Haggling For A Taxi In Senegambia

Gambian Cab 300x225 Haggling For A Taxi In Senegambia

At something to one in the morning we left to go and look for a club in Senegambia (the touristy area) We had planned to go to the Viviane concert for the second night in a row but sleep prevented this from happening AGAIN.

We hailed a taxi from outside the hotel which took us directly to the tourist strip. There were not many people out as most of them were probably at the concert. We started off drinking at a Pizzeria. The man serving the drinks seemed to take a liking to me and served me a triple shot instead of a single. (RESULT!) He said he was 28. I thought he was lying because he looked about 40. Deborah said that he must have just had a hard life. Anyhow it made me chuckle. When he served the next drink as a single instead of adding a little extra I was time to move on.

The club was directly next door. Deborah and I spent most of it outside as the nighttime temeperature was about 27 degrees, humid and there were no fans in the club. I would have fainted if it had been full to capacity! Whilst hanging outside people watching and the like we spotted the shark teeth (I forgot to mention that bit) fat nyash girls. We said hi to the first one we saw and she gave us a look like, “Who the frigg are you.” I was confused. The plane wasn’t that full. I said to her,

“From the plane.”

She acts like she can’t recall. I don’t know if she is serious or not but I am not interested in this whole big song and dance. So she is screwing up her face for a minute or two and then she suddenly “remembers”

“Oooooh oooh yeah.”

It seems fake, but then what would the point of that be? She then calls her sister and we get into a conversation with them. They say that they are there for two weeks and were there 3 weeks ago. Sounds like they come a lot. Deborah asks them if the nature of their visit is for business or for pleasure. After they have just said they go clubbing every night, one of them makes a serious face and says,

“Business, we are looking to buy land.”

Something just told me the girl was a liar. She then says she works in marketing and starts talking about their property in London and Dublin. I wonder how old they are but don’t ask. Despite their size they both look like teenagers to me. One looks about 17-18 and the other 19-22. Deborah reckons they are both in their mid twenties.

We only stay at the club for about an hour. We leave the Irish on the dancefloor sweating it down to the bashment music. Outside the club we cross the road to where some taxis are parked. We had paid 50 Dalasis to get to the club now they were trying to charge 200. Deborah puts on a Nigerian accent to haggle with them,

“Come on now, mek it 40″

One of them answers,

“No 150″

“Make good price, give me last”

“150″

“Last last”

“100″

This guy refuses to budge so we try our luck with another driver. They are all friends and sticking together. They must figure that if they make a united stand and refuse to take us for less than 100, we will have to relent as it is in the early hours of the morning and we won’t find any other cabs.

All of a sudden another cab pulls in to where we are off the main road. We run to the window to try and negotiate with him before the vultures swoop in on him and tell him not to take us for less than 100,

“Bakau, how much?”

“100″

“40″

“75″

“50″

“75″

“50″

“Ok”

Deborah and I jump in and the car zooms off just in time to get away from the vultures who were banging on the windows and cussing our driver in Wolof for poaching us from them.

The journey started off well. The taxi driver was talkative and was trying to persuade us to go to another club but then a nice situation turned into a very bad one.

That will be in the next blog (It was going to be in this one but it was getting rather long)

When the cab driver turns psycho… Whatchu gonna do?

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