Guadalajara taxis are supposed to have meters, but most of them don’t. So the first thing you do, before getting into the cab, is negotiate the fare with the driver.
It’s usually a crapshoot. Sometimes you win, and sometimes you lose.
Recently I went to see a photo exhibition at Casa ITESO Clavigero. My Spanish-speaking neighbor had called the cab for me, and the driver wouldn’t accept less than 80 pesos.
When we arrived at the casa, all I had was a 100-peso bill. The driver took it gladly. When I asked for change (“¿Cambio?”), the driver gave it to me grudgingly.
For the trip back to my apartment, I hailed a cab on Avenida Chapultepec. I handed a piece of paper with my address written on it through the window.
The driver studied the address and scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Cuarenta,” he finally replied.
Yes, the inbound journey cost me half what the outbound journey had.
spreading her father’s ashes
near the mango tree
Text and photo © 2016 by Mark M. Redfearn, all rights reserved