What I've learned from a cabbie

By Alexandra Graff
LONDON--

London is the city of transportation. With the London Underground trains shuffling people from one side of the city to another and looming double decker buses around just about every corner, London has the people-moving concept down. But the city’s greatest transportation accomplishment is the taxicab.

I have ridden in taxis in several cities, including New York and even Seattle (yes, they exist in Seattle), but nothing compares to the London taxi experience. With occupied taxis everywhere, the only tricky part can be finding one empty. But once hailed, I discovered there was no need to worry about the driver not knowing how to get to the destination, which was a relief since I certainly didn’t know.

I learned cabs with the 'taxi' light off are occupied.

After jumping in the cab, which is surprisingly spacious inside, I rattled off my destination, and without any hesitation the driver sped and swerved down streets that seemed to stretch and wind on forever. No GPS required, the London cabbies seem to know every street and landmark the city has to offer. In fact, the drivers have “The Knowledge,” or at least they have passed “The Knowledge Test,” which is a exam that requires knowing every street in the city. Preparation can take two to four years.

But even more impressive than their street smarts were the drivers themselves.

Although I didn’t get any of the cab drivers’ names, their personalities still remain engrained in my vision of London. In my experience, there are two types of cab drivers: the get-you-to-your-destination-in-silence type, and the chatty cabbie. The latter is considerably more fun.

So while I sat in the back of those famous black cabs feeling infinitely more lost with every turn, several drivers thought it best to tell me about London.

One particularly heated driver decided to go on a rant about the apparent fox infestation in the city after I was stunned at seeing a small-dog sized red fox on a street corner.

Lines of taxis often wait outside train stations to pick up passengers.

“Oh, they’re pests,” the driver hollered with a thick accent (Cockney? East End? I'm too new to tell) through the plastic divider. He then went on to explain how they are vicious dog-and-cat attacking beasts and not the cute fluffy animal I gaped at.

Another driver sent me into a fit of laughter describing the annoyances of having to kick out late night couples who try to get a tad too cozy in the back.

And then there was the driver who listed all the types of items people leave in the cab when rushing out at their destination. From expensive Prada sunglasses to wallets to coats, the driver explained the exhausting process of trying to return people’s forgotten treasures. Of course, that was the ride when I almost left my phone in the back seat, much to the driver’s amusement.

Apart from the risqué stories and lively accounts, some cabbies decided to give me advice about places to avoid and places not to be missed. One even pointed out architecture and sites along the way.

A glance down some streets seems to reveal only cabs. 

For being a mode of transportation, I thought taking a black cab would simply be an iconic must-do while in London, like riding a double decker and navigating the tube. But never did I expect it to be so entertaining or informative. I was most pleasantly surprised.