taxis

When you travel alone taxi drivers become a kind of link to the world.

While the other day I found a grumpy one, most of them here have been very kind, like the one who waited outside Club Gricel for me just to be sure everything was ok. (no mi gusta el barrio).

My favourite taxi driver was the one in San Francisco who, realising I was the right age took me past Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin houses and over the bridge without charging me an exorbitant rate. In fact she turned off the meter and did it out of love for some part. Then there was the taxi drive from New Delhi to Jaipur.

In New York the taxi drivers, once they realised I was not American, talked to me openly about racism in the USA.

Here, and in Spain they teach me Spanish words like confundo for example. One particular one in Spain talked at length to me and I tried to understand. I thought he was talking about la crises economic but I finally realised he was talking about the lot of a twice divorced man and women´s love for money. Sigh.

They are a good way to interact with locals and mostly they are very nice and kind.

PS. Yesterday´s driver not only refused the tip but also reduced the fare to the next lowest 10 AND thanked me. WOW now that´s a first.

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