Leaving Madrid ::: Cabby

Rather than attempt another 20 minute walk to the train station that would surely take several hours, I decided to hail a cab when leaving Madrid. This time I made sure how much. Cabby said no more than diez. I took that as a promise.

The ensuing ride could be considered fun in any amusement park. Getting out of the narrow streets took some waiting, but as we approached the stop light, he hit the gas when he saw a man crossing the street on a no-walk sign.

Stopping just short of hitting him, the two men shook fists and screamed at each other. Cabby got the last word in, yelling "Imbecil!" and then sped around the corner.

Let me tell you, Cabby could hold his own in competitive driving. Fastest car on the street, he easily passed everyone, swerving in and out of traffic. If there was a jam-up he would just pretent there was a lane between two cars and snake his way through.

I stiffled giggles the entire 5 minutes it took to get to the train station.

When we came to the train station the meter was well under 10 euros. Apparently I don't get the cab fare system though, because this was the second time that the meter jumped a full 5,50 euros when it's time to pay up. I tried to say, "No, no!" with my best Spanish impersonation. But he shrugged and said "Traffic, what can I say, eh?"

I'm kind of a pushover, so I let it go. No more cabs for me, unless I can't help it.