Hey Mr. Cab Driver

Saturday 3 April
Buenos Aires

So, hungover and tired we checked out of our hostel and went over to Justin’s apartment. From there we tried to sort out an apartment but with no luck. Instead we booked into a hotel in Recoleta for a couple of nights.

That evening we met up with Aaron for the infamous BA pub crawl. Now Alain and Ryan had been complaining about BA taxis and how they had been ripped off. From what I could remember I had never been ripped off by BA taxis. But on our way to San Telmo our driver took us the wrong way and stopped somewhere that wasn’t even in San Telmo. We had been perfectly clear on our directions so I made a note of the meter and tried to say in Spanish, we won’t pay anything more. It was 15 pesos. By the time we reached our destination it was 25 pesos. We paid 15. As we got out of the cab the guy tried to protest but we just walked away and he pretty much realised the situation and didn’t do anything.

Starting in a restaurant in San Telmo we were given free beer (for the entrance fee) and free salty pizza. It turned out that there was almost no women in the 60 or 70 or so people there. Luckily Justin started talking to two English girls that made up at least 50% of the women there, and they joined our group.

We then proceeded to various bars around San Telmo and consumed a large variety of differing drinks. By the time we arrived at the last bar I was pretty wasted. I went to the toilet but the door didn’t close properly. There were some girls watching and laughing so I said “Es muy grande para tu” which isn’t particularly correct grammar (I think) but they got the message and laughed. And then one of them told me it was another’s birthday, so I obliged and gave her something to remember me by. I got some evil looks from a guy standing nearby – I think it was her boyfriend.

I rejoined the group and we headed off in a bus to a nightclub. This was a long way away as it seemed to take ages. But we entertained ourselves by singing random songs and taking stupid pictures.

Then we arrived at the club and things got a bit hazy. There was some drinking and dancing. I think I had just about decided to stop drinking when Alain gave me another bottle of Heineken. Oh well, when in Rome I thought. I took one sip and then had to rush to the toilet. This remains the first and only time I have ever been sick from alcohol.

Shortly after that we took a cab ride home with a dodgy 60 year old cab driver who tried to sell us cocaine. In addition to that when we paid he tried to tell us that the 100 peso note we paid him with was fake as a corner had been torn out of it. I remembered clearly that the note wasn’t torn when I gave it to him so, as I knew he didn’t speak English I calmly turned round to the others in the back and said “Everyone get out of the taxi now,” which they did, and then we walked away with our change and with the cab driver still pretending that we had given him the note which we hadn’t.

Thinking back on it later I think there was one occasion when a cab driver tried to pretend that I had given him the wrong note and I was pretty sure I hadn’t so I ignored him and walked out that cab as well, and nothing came of that either. It’s nice to think that I had foiled three attempts to rip me (and others) off, and two of those were on the same day.