The infamous Egyptian taxi driver.

I recently read a blog post written by a friend of Patrick’s sister, who lives and works in Libya. In it, she describes the traffic in Tripoli in all it’s terror-inspiring madness. You can read her blog post here.  The picture is all too familiar to us here in Alexandria, especially the bit about every journey feeling like a fairground ride, with the added dimension of possible death.

It is fair to say that most taxi drivers here (with a few honourable exceptions) are entirely mad – not so much as a screw loose, more like one single screw holding their sanity together.

However it is necessary to award them a certain degree of admiration for their death-defying antics. A particular favourite of mine is what we have termed the “Magician Manoeuvre.” In one hand he holds his mobile phone so he can update his wife that yes, he is still driving down Abu Qir Street, as he has been all day; in the other hand he waves a lit cigarette; with the other hand he adjusts the radio, and with the fourth hand he changes gear. In between calls to his wife he sings along to the radio, gesticulates at people trying to  cross the road, chats to his passengers or shouts greetings to fellow taxi drivers through the open window. Throughout the whole process he weaves constantly back and forth across 3 lanes of traffic, dodging cars, motorbikes, bicycles, pedestrians, traffic cops, horses, donkeys, fruit and veg handcarts, kids playing football, etc.

A skilled driver does not let such a minor thing as lanes interfere with his quest. He thinks nothing of nipping into the fast lane for 2 seconds to overtake a solitary car, before cutting back across 5 lanes of traffic to make a right turn.

Here’s a fun game: Taxi Tat Bingo. Last week we rode in a taxi with 4 sets of furry dice, 2 dangly Quranic verses, 3 pictures of his kids, a fake-fur dashboard cover with matching parcel shelf, a golden tissue box and 7 auxiliary mirrors. There was no air freshener or 4x4 sticker, or it would have been a full house.

The Overcharger. You know you’re going to be overcharged by a couple of subtle signs: the driver changes the music to Celine Dion or Whitney Houston, and tries to befriend you in a particular type of English used only in taxis, by touts at the pyramids, and by young men in Luxor.

Our strangest (and scariest) taxi ride happened a few weeks ago. A few minutes into the journey, the driver pulled over, said “two seconds” and disappeared, leaving the engine running. When he reappeared he was clutching something in a plastic bag. It turned out to be a can of beer, which he opened and polished off as we continued on our way (making all the manoeuvres described above). I shut my eyes and prayed… and thankfully the back streets were relatively empty. But we decided to get out of the taxi before we got to Big Scary Main Road, as for once it was less scary to cross six lanes of traffic on foot than with a drink-and-driver.

Anyway, onto those notable exceptions:

• Patrick's new best friend: one morning, Patrick forgot his bag, and had to get out of the taxi on the way to classes and go back for it. In his second taxi, the driver started chatting in Arabic. “Where are you from? Ah, England. Welcome to Egypt! We are very pleased you are here! Do you like Alexandria? Oh, good, I am very glad!...” etc etc. When they got to the language centre he refused payment, because he was so happy that Patrick was studying Arabic.

• The philosopher: a few days later our driver started speaking to us in English. At first (of course) we suspected that he might be an Overcharger, but no. It transpired that he studied philosophy at university, and we were treated to some choice (long) quotes from Bertrand Russell. Nothing like a bit of philosophising before breakfast.

• The good driver: we were privileged to experience Alexandria’s one good taxi driver  - possibly the only one who has actually taken driving lessons. He stopped at traffic lights (the only one doing so), did what the traffic police asked, stopped to let old ladies cross the road – and made sure other drivers did the same. He might be related to this guy here

Anyway, it turns out that driving carefully and respectfully is a much more effective way of earning a higher fare than regaling us with Misses Dion and Houston, or shaving 5 seconds off the journey time by cutting up 14 vehicles and a donkey in a diagonal screech across the wrong side of the road. We voluntarily paid this guy double for the joy and delight of arriving with our nerves intact. Now if only a few other taxi drivers would follow his example!!