World Cup Diary July 5: Getting Lucky on the JoBurg streets

World Cup Diary / Dave Farrar / 05 July 2010 / Leave a comment Free £25 Bet

Punters queue at a typical South African taxi rank

Close encounters with South African taxi drivers, part II.

"I've had a few interesting taxi rides myself in my five weeks in Jo'Burg. The drivers are great value, although have turned cackling into an art form, and seem to almost deliberately want to make you feel nervous."

I enjoyed my fellow diarist Jonathan Wilson's description of his tortuous taxi ride on his way to meet me last week.

I can confirm, in fact, that I enjoyed reading it a lot more than I did waiting around Seventh Street in Melville for an hour: a time I spent being grinned at unnervingly by a gap-toothed security guard, being asked if I wanted to try some "herb", nearly having a fight with two aggressive lesbians, and giving some money to a man in red slippers. Jonathan, however, is always worth the wait, although our consensus that an Argentina v Holland final was highly likely and massively desirable was blown out of the water on Saturday afternoon.

I've had a few interesting taxi rides myself in my five weeks in Jo'Burg. The drivers are great value, although have turned cackling into an art form, and seem to almost deliberately want to make you feel nervous. You're hugely security conscious anyway in this city, and two nights ago I wondered if it was really necessary for a man called Herman (you always find out their name and number, in case you need them again) to take a route involving dark back streets, remove his sign from the roof, and spend the journey laughing like a Bond villain, and telling me "what goes around, comes around." I thought I was toast, honestly I did.

My best ride of all, though, came last night. And mainly because true stories like this are rarely so pure, and never blessed with such a beautiful lack of self-awareness. I was in Sandton, in the north of the city, and wanted to head back to the place where I'm staying in horrible, edgy, Braamfontein. Here's how the conversation went, and, trust me, the pay off is worth waiting for:

Taxi Driver: Where d'you want to go boss?
Me: Braamfontein
TD: Oh! Braaaaaaaaaamfontein? You staying there?
Me: Yes mate, it's a long story, can we go?
TD: Yeeeees!!! Da Braamfontein Express!
Me: (Silently) Jesus.
TD: So are you enjoying your time here in my city?
Me: Yes. I mean I never feel that safe, and I don't like that we can't walk around, but it's been fun. What do you make of the security here? Have you had any problems in your taxi?
TD: For the World Cup, it's fine, there is TOO MUCH security. All these guys, telling you where you can and cannot park your taxi. But before, I have many problems.
Me: Really? Like what?
TD: Well, I take people everywhere, and not every taxi driver does that. I'll even go to places like Braamfontein....
Me: Thanks for that....
TD: ....and so there is trouble. Three times in the past year I dropped people off and they ran away...
Me: And did you chase them?
TD: Ha, haaaaaaa! Chase them? You must be joking! No, I have to leave them, I cannot leave my taxi. I think it probably cost me about a thousand rand in all....
Me: God, that's a lot, isn't it?
TD: Yeees. And that's not all.
Me: No?
TD: Another time, I stopped at a Macdonalds Drive Thru with these guys who seemed ok, like they were tourists. I went to go and use the bathroom, and I came back and my taxi was gone. They had stolen it.
Me: So, did you have insurance?
TD: No, I couldn't afford it. Eventually they found my car in another part of town, with the lights broken and the bumper broken, and it cost me four thousand rand to fix it...
Me: So, you haven't had a very good.....
TD: And that's not all. You know that everyone here talks about car jackings?
Me: (Shifting nervously in my seat) Yes
TD: Well, it's not so much of a problem now, because they attack people with the big, nice cars, the fourbyfours, but earlier this year I was attacked twice in one weekend. They left my car, but they took all of my takings. About two thousand rand.
Me: Were you scared?
TD: No, not really. These guys, all that they want is the money, you know, they don't want to kill you, it's too much hassle.
Me: But still, you've had a bad year. Two carjackings, your car stolen, and people running away without paying three times. At least you haven't been hurt yourself I suppose.
TD: (Moving his right arm towards me, which I hadn't previously seen) Apart from this (it's in plaster)
Me: Bloody hell, how did that happen?
TD: I got jumped when I was walking down the street. They took my money and I tried to fight, so they broke my arm.
Me: (as we're pulling into the place that I'm staying) Man, I'm so sorry. Listen how much do I owe you for this?
TD: Two hundred and fifty rand.
Me: Well, here's three hundred mate, and thanks for getting me home safe. You take care of yourself.
TD: Thanks, man
Me: By the way, my name's David. What's yours?
TD: My name is Lucky.

And, ladies and gentlemen, I promise you, from the beating heart of this crazy, crazy city, that is a true story.

Tags: Jo'Burg, Sandton, World Cup