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Taxi Travails: Avoid these Mistakes

I want to alert folks to two incidents of taxi troubles I had during my recent travels. The first was in Istanbul while readying ourselves for our Venice Simplon-Orient-Express from Istanbul to Paris. After a day out seeing local sites like the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia and Grand Bazaar, we got in a taxi and gave our hotel destination, the driver asked with what currency we would pay and we said with US dollars. We then were driven in what seemed to be an unecessarily circuitous route, because he claimed there was excessive traffic. At the end, the fare was far more than it should have been so I said I needed to use my credit card which was in US dollars. He argued, insisting on cash, and was unwilling to take the credit card (in spite of it saying on his windows he did.) He told us to go to an ATM to get cash. At that point, we exited the vehicle and gave him the same cash as we had been charged for a similar taxi trip, and walked down a street toward our hotel where no vehicles could drive.

In Paris, I found a great live jazz venue, Le Duc des Lombards. After the main act and the jam session, I went to the nearby taxi rank (stand) where there were numerous taxis picking up passengers. I got in a vehicle that looked like the other taxis, but made the mistake of not looking at the meter when I got in, which I normally do. Already en route, I realized there was no meter. When we got to my hotel, he told me a ridiculously high fee for the same route I had taken earlier. I mentioned there was no meter showing the fees, and he claimed he was Uber. I told him I did not request Uber and that because I got in his vehicle at the taxi rank, I would not pay the amount he was trying to charge. I gave him an amount similar to what the charge was for the taxi to the jazz club, and then exited the vehicle.

Attempts by both drivers at continuing to be argumentive and trying to insist I pay more were ignored in both instances, and I went in a direction where neither could drive and where there were plenty of pedestrians.

Tags: Istanbul, jazz, leducdeslombards, Paris, Quality of life, taxi, Taxitroubles, transport, transportation, Travel, Turkey, uber, Venice Simplon Orient Express

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Categories Activities, France, Istanbul, jazz, Paris, Solo female travel, Taxi perils, Turkey

Thanksgiving Reminisces

23 Nov

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

Not long after I moved to Spain six years ago, (from the Central Coast of California), a Norwegian friend expressed interest in trying an American Thanksgiving. I was happy to do it, and invited a group of friends, not anticipating some of the challenges to come. While this year does not allow for Thanksgiving and other holiday get-togethers, I am reminiscing and laughing about a couple of past Thanksgiving celebrations.

It took some effort to find some of the American ingredients, like canned pumpkin pie filling, spices like sage for the stuffing, but found a whole turkey at the local carnicería (butcher.) When I purchased the turkey, I was asked if I wanted it cleaned. At first I said no, then asked to have her remove the remaining feathers and pins.

Surprise Thanksgiving morning as I began to prep the turkey, and discovered the giblets (internal organs) were not in the usual bag as in the U.S., but were still attached to the cavity of the turkey, so I had to detach them. No bueno. There were items inside I had never seen in the U.S. bag of giblets. Worse yet was the head was still attached, and I had to detach it, which took over an hour. I began to think there would be no turkey for dinner. Finally, got it in the oven, but the electricity in the stove and other appliances kept shutting off due to too much electrical demand, (a repeated experience at my dinner parties.)

In the end, it all worked out and the guests expressed pleasure at all the traditional American Thanksgiving offerings. Or perhaps they were afraid to give me their real opinions. I doubt I will ever make a whole turkey again.

I am reminded of my last Thanksgiving in the U.S. before I moved to Spain, which I wasn’t sure would happen. My three sons had other commitments on Thanksgiving, so I asked if they wanted a family Thanksgiving on an alternate day. All three enthusiastically agreed so they found a mutually agreeable date. Even with the standard Thanksgiving dishes, the dinner was atypical in their chosen topic of discussion: best and worst U.S. vice-presidents. I could add nothing elucidating to the conversation. As I was putting all the dishes on the table, I remembered the bread was still in toaster oven; I have an unfortunate habit of burning bread. My middle son remarked, “It’s not dinner until Mom burns the bread.” Good times.