Athens Taxi Ride - Extreme Sports
Athens is a huge, congested city and the local taxis are your
main means of getting around. The average Athens tax ride is
inexpensive, just bring your helmet.
Living on the Edge
I had just arrived in Athens with a couple who'll remain
nameless. [He's now a respectable doctor and married to someone
else.] My buddy, "John", had a Greek friend who lived in town
named Stavos. We were going to stay with him and explore Athens
before heading to the islands.
Stavos had gone to college with us in California and more or
less been raised there. After experiencing the finer points of
higher education [fraternity parties, etc.], he and his brother
had started a snowboard company in Athens. Who could possibly be
buying snowboards in Greece? It turned out Stavos and his
brother were selling them throughout Europe, not in Greece.
Anyway, Stavos collected us in a friend's car and took us to his
small studio. We decided to catch some winks and then head out
for a night on the town. Thus, we would experience an Athens
taxi ride for the first time.
Taxi driving is a competitive sport. I am convinced there is a
World Cup of taxi driving and drivers practice on the streets of
their location. San Francisco and New York taxi drivers are an
elite group, while taking a taxi in France is a good way to see
the Eiffel Tower while going the wrong way down a one-way
street. In Athens, it was all about speed.
Being an idiot, I yelled out "shotgun" as the taxi pulled to the
curb. I should've guessed my triumph wasn't a good thing when
Stavos just smiled. In we went and Stavos gave the driver our
destination. For the next fifteen minutes, I feared for life
itself. Mine and others.
Our driver was apparently convinced he would get a bonus if he
beat a certain time. We peeled out at the curb and the race was
on. Through the tight, winding streets of Athens we went. As is
the nature of chaotic Athens, the roads are packed with cars,
buses, people and very brave cyclist. Considering this an
obstacle course, a driver whipped through the throngs at over 80
miles per hour. Most of the time was spent in the SLOW lane,
where less cars were. I still have nightmares about the faces of
cyclist staring at me as we passed them with maybe 5 inches to
spare. Frozen pictures of terror. Throw in cars starting to pull
out in the road and you have the white knuckle event of the year.
When we finally pulled up to the club, I started breathing
again. As I pulled my hand off the handle on the door, I left
impressions. Standing outside of the cab, Stavos asked me if I
wanted to sit in the front on the way home and started laughing.
It took two drinks to calm my nerves. Come hell or high water, I
was walking home.