Johannesburg Cab Driver….

I popped to nitequil before I got on the plane to JoBurg and slept the entire trip. I woke up feeling a little better {though that lasted about ten minutes before the beast was back roaring its ugly head.} We are on a plane with the South African Pumas, which I think is a national rugby union team. The night before we tried to book airport transport to the place Victoria is housesitting in the lovely suburb of Melville. We never received a confirmation from the company and indeed there was no one waiting at the airport with a sign that said Sharif or Jackson. So we head out to the taxi rank to try to catch a cab. We walk up to one cab driver and the guy managing the taxi rank, who whistles for a second cabbie to join the conversation (apparently his car is first in line so he is going to be our driver.) Now it’s time to negotiate the rate the lead man at the taxi rank.

“Oh, we go by a meter.”

“Well, this is kind of far, so can we do a flat rate?”

“You want a flat rate?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a lot.”

“What’s a lot?”

“280 rand.”

That’s on the high end of the range we were told it would probably cost, but still reasonable all things considered.

“Okay, let’s go.”

At this point our cab driver looks really excited, which makes me think we just overpaid for the cab, but we are tired, groggy, and sick and just want to get to the house to rest. The taxi rank manger asks the cabbie if he knows how to get to where we are going and he says “yeaboe, yeaboe.”

As soon as we pull out of the airport the cab driver is on the cell phone calling someone to ask for directions. He was speaking in Zulu, so originally I wasn’t sure what he was saying until he clearly said the street name. Marcus and I looked at each other like “this Joker doesn’t know where he’s going!” Next thing we know we are on the highway headed towards Pretoria, which is a completely different city. He eventually swings around and calls again for directions. Now I’m not sure what the confusion is, but next thing I know he’s handing us the phone. I’m so over this cab ride, so Marcus takes the phone and explains again the address and which suburb it’s near. We settle back in our seats, thinking falsely that we are now headed in the right direction. We took a nice thirty-minute scenic tour of Johannesburg before the cab driver pulled over and asked a man selling flowers in the street for directions. About ten minutes later, after I ask him to please call someone to look up directions, he pulls over and asks another guy on the street for directions. Finally, we are on the right street! Almost there. Oh wait ! a major thoroughfare bisects wait the street. We only had the option of going left. Now it is obvious we need to make the first u-turn and pick up the street on the opposite side of the thoroughfare. But what fun would that be? Next thing we know we are headed three blocks past the first u-turn and then I feel myself losing my patience. I say, “I think you need to turn around. We need to be headed in the other direction to get back on the street.”

“What? Where?”

Marcus says, “You need to turn around. You were on the right street, you just need to get back to the other side of it.”

“I don’t know. Which way? You need to help me. You have to tell me where to go.”

“Stop Here. Turn Around.”

He pulls over to and starts to turn around. “You have to tell me where to go.”

My patience has run its course and I am done. “What! This is ridiculous. You should not have taken us in your cab if you couldn’t get us where we needed to go. You should not have told the other cab drivers you knew where you were going when you didn’t. We’re not from here – how are we supposed to know how to direct you to a place we’ve never been to before?”

“If I didn’t take you in my cab then I wouldn’t be working. You have a flat rate so it’s no problem if we get a little confused. You are not paying a meter – I gave you flat rate. It is only costing me petrol. You have to help me.”

“Turn Around.”

And therein lies the problem. He had no idea that his service was unacceptable. He needs the work and would rather scramble around the city with angry passengers than let another driver take the fare. I can’t even imagine how quickly things would have gone downhill if we hadn’t negotiated a flat rate.

{Sigh}