A tale of four taxis

Let me start out by saying that traffic down here is absolutely crazy. There are lanes. There are traffic signs and signals.

But nobody pays attention. The only hard and fast rule seems to be: stop at stop lights.

A road can contain as many lanes of traffic as can fit in it. If the road you’re in can fit 5 cars and 3 motorcycles, it doesn’t matter what has been painted on the ground…5 cars and 3 motorcycles will squeeze in.

As chaotic as it sounds, it actually works pretty well. We’ve seen remarkably few accidents considering the crushing volume of traffic that Bogota accommodates.

Today I want to talk about taxis. There are hundreds of them down here, if not thousands. We have been using them to get EVERYWHERE. Bogota is fairly spread out. We are staying in an apartment near the city center and sometimes our errands have meant that we’ve had to go to some far-flung areas. If it weren’t for taxis, it would be a lot harder to get around.

After more than a week here, the three of us are feeling fairly comfortable with getting around on our own. At first, we went everywhere together. It was all new and different and we wanted to be safe. Now that we know how things work, generally, each of us has been taking solo trips during the daytime.

I still need the rabies vaccine. I had my first two shots when I was back home in Charlotte, and was instructed to get my third shot either the Friday after I arrived, or the following Friday. This morning I set out in a taxi to head to Cruz Rojo Colombiana, the Colombian Red Cross. I walked out of our apartment and hailed a cab. One pulled over, and I hopped in and gave him the address.

30 minutes later, I arrived. I paid 12,000 pesos, which is about $4USD, and set about asking for information about a rabies vaccine. It turns out that they didn’t have it…they were out. The woman I spoke with was kind enough to write down the address of another place that might have it. I left the Red Cross and hailed another taxi. I gave him the new address and off we went.

It took about 15 minutes to arrive. We pulled over near a bridge and the driver began saying something. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but it seemed like he was telling me that if I walked across the bridge, the place I was looking for would be on the other side. Traffic looked pretty backed up, so it seemed like it would be quicker to walk across to the other side. I thanked him, paid, and got out of the cab.

One leisurely saunter to the other side of the street later, I discovered a private elementary school with a guard out front. I showed the guard the address I was looking for, and he shook his head, saying he didn’t know where it was. The area was fairly deserted, so I felt safe pulling my phone out. I tried to find the right street…and it turns out I was nowhere near it. I was trying to reach Calle 73. I was actually on Calle 72c. On top of it, Calle 73 was nowhere near where I was. Apparently the cab driver hadn’t been able to find my address and decided to ditch me.

Let me reiterate. HE DECIDED TO DITCH ME!

Not cool, random cab driver. Not cool.

Fortunately, I have a taxi app on my phone and I was able to hail another cab pretty quickly. After trying to find the address on my own, I decided just to go back to the apartment and do some more research for the address online. I hopped in and gave him the address of the apartment we’re staying in.

About that time my phone started to blow up with text messages from Elizabeth about motorcycle tires. We’ve found motorcycles, but they are basically street bikes with street tires. We need tires that are a little more durable since we don’t know what the condition of these roads is going to be as we travel around South America. Elizabeth and Josh spent some time yesterday morning tracking down tires only to discover that the place they were told to purchase tires from could not get the tires anytime soon. I think they said the soonest they could get tires was August.

That was clearly ridiculous, so we needed to find another place to purchase tires. Our contact at the bike shop gave us the address for another place. My phone was blowing up with messages because Elizabeth was asking Josh or I to go to this other place. She sent out the address, and it was on Calle 76, not too far from where I was. I volunteered to take care of it, so I gave the driver the new address and off I went.

It took an hour or so, but we got the tire situation squared away. I lucked out because the guy that owns the tire shop speaks English; it made taking care of things relatively straightforward. He found some tires that would work for the kind of terrain we should be encountering, and ordered them from a supplier. We’re supposed to go back in the morning and pay for them.

Errand completed, it was time to head back to the apartment. I hailed another taxi.

This final taxi driver was a pretty cool guy. He was very talkative in spite of the fact that I don’t speak Spanish very well.  He taught me a couple of words (like semáforo, or traffic light) and told me a better way to provide my address to other cab drivers in the future. He talked about his cousin that was born in Queens and now lives in Texas with his family. The cab driver has never been to the US. He asked if I liked Colombia, and I told him that the people were very friendly and the country was beautiful.

It was a fairly positive interaction. Before long we arrived at the apartment and he helped me look up the correct price in the price guide. I paid him and got out.

From one standpoint this was a big waste of time. I left in the morning, having one objective in mind and utterly failing to accomplish it. However, we were able to get a tire supplier figured out. It took a lot of time riding in taxi after taxi.

It’s still kind of fun.

I like that my time isn’t reserved all the time, and that I can take half a day to work on something…even if it wasn’t what I originally set out to do.

We should take delivery of our bikes on Thursday. I’m excited!