The other day when we landed in San Juan, we went by taxi to the little beach community of Condado. It's really a part of greater San Juan and it's two-thirds of the way from the airport to the cruise ship docks in Old San Juan. The taxi ride was somewhat exciting. Lanes on the freeways there are about two feet narrower than the ones here, the traffic moves like downtown Atlanta (i.e. 70 mph). Backups are frequent and there is a lot of squeeling of tires. When the cars stop, motorcycles squeeze between the lanes at breakneck speed, zig zagging to miss the rear view mirrors on the cars. Then in a flash, you're flying again. Our driver was fairly skillful probably because he had been driving at least 100 years. I've seen Egyptian mummies who looked younger. He also spoke a little English.
Okay, so far. We got to Condado alive.
The next day, the lady at the desk at the guest house where we stayed, called us a cab. This time the driver spoke no English, but seemed to understand when I said, "Take us to the cruise ship dock," and my wife added, "The Veendam, Holland America line." I think the only word he understood was "America" which sounded like American Airlines to him. Off we went like a shot. I soon realized that this guy had the skill of Jeff Gordon and Mark Martin. He missed everything. Usually it was by an inch or less, but he missed cars, trucks, motorcycles, pedestrians, seagulls -- everything. So I started to enjoy the ride. Then I noticed something. We were supposed to be headed west which should put the mid-day shadows on the right side of everything, but the shadows were on the left. We had to be going east! So I said, "No, el aeroporto. El barco grande." Then added, "San Juan viejo."
He really looked shocked for a moment. Then he and someone on the radio had a fast, emotional conversation on the radio, after which he made a deluxe U-turn and we took off in the other direction. It was the last lap at Daytona. We were even scaring native Puerto Ricans. We were hanging on, expecting each moment to be our last. By the time we stopped at the dock -- in a large puddle -- I think I saw steam rising from the tires. Or maybe my glasses were fogged. Anyway, I doubled the tip. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't speak English.
How"roller coasters are tame now"ard