You haven't lived until you have taken a ride in a South African minibus taxi. Today I decided to take a taxi to work, well because of some economic reasons my car was not going to do the job. I traveled from Pretoria to Randburg on the R511. I figured that this is the only route taxis to Ranburg use since there were a hell of a lot of taxis on this particular road. It started off when I first had to catch a taxi from Sunnyside to Marabastad. Apparently that is the only place you will get taxis to Ranburg. I got to Marabastad at around 06:20 hoping to get a taxi at around that time because I ussually leave Pta at 06:30 to get to work at 08:00. Unfortunately I was not sufficiently informed about the whole process of getting on a taxi
When I got there, there was one hell of a queue. And it was moving a snail's pace, if at all it was moving. There came a taxi only every 10 minutes. I was I think 60th in line so I was resigned to the fact that I am going to be late for work. I was so pissed I even thought of staying away today. Anyway finally, after a loooong wait I finally got onto a taxi. It was one of those rundown ones which look as if they might fall apart at any minute (today was definitely going to be my day). Before this particular one there had come nice looking ones but when it was my turn to get on I get an accident waiting to happen. Anyway I wasn't going to cause a whole rawkus by complaining because I wasn't really going to achieve anything. I have heard of the taxi driver's attitude and it is bad.
We left Pta and got onto the road. I thought we were going to ride at 40khm the whole trip but the speed of that taxi was unbelievable. These taxi drivers must be going on some extreme driving course of some sort to qualify to be a taxi driver. The way they navigate their way out of heavy traffic would fill even Schumi with awe. The robots don't seem to bear any significance to this driver. Green means go through. Amber means speed through. Red means blast through. And the taxi stops anywhere anytime. And other motorists HAVE to give him the right of way, always, and it seems as if they are aware of that fact because no one ever hoots at him they we normal drivers get hooted at. Throughout the journey I had my heart in my throat, praying that I would at least survive the seemingly inevitable accident even if I do lose a couple of llimbs. I pity myself that I have to repeat this whole trip when I knock off.