Foursquare follies
We’ve got a new game, my day driver and I. A game where cabbies shine.
Foursquare, funking off the iPhone’s GPS and social networking. It’s a scavenger hunt, it’s a map of your day, it’s a point-scoring exercise, it’s gathering facts and sharing info.
Kiva Cabbie
I can help. My passengers sometimes give me tips. The businessmen and the government officials so rarely tip that it is a cause for wonder when they do. But those who pay the fare from their own pocket, those who are least able to afford a generous gesture, they are my best tippers.
Red van, red tape
Some burgers rely on quantity for their value. Or the variety of ingredients. Much as I like pineapple, bacon, cheese, pickles, tomato and egg piled high for a huge calorie fix, my Brodburger was exactly right on the quantity and variety. Not too heavy, not too unwieldy.
Just right. The perfect mix of homemade ingredients, freshly prepared and simply presented. I was licking the last juices from my happy fingers when my next radio job came in, and I was on the road again.
Himalayas
The Himalayan Mountains have moved to Canberra. Yup. Speed humps at Canberra Airport. In particular the last one when exiting the airport. For the life of me I can’t understand why they built that thing so friggin high. My taxi full of passengers and luggage has absolutely no way of clearing this obstacle without scraping the bottom of the car out. Once again it is quite obvious that Steve Byron does not have a clue.
Rush job
We were sitting there, just enjoying the still, when a man comes running in from the darkness, smack into the automatic door, which of course was locked while the operator was outside. He looked around, and my companion sighed, got up, handed me the cigarette and went off to serve the guy.
Song of America
I’ve been in some magical places in my time. A New Zealand cave with a galaxy of glow-worms lighting our upturned faces drifting in a boat down an underground river. Kissing my wife on top of the Eiffel Tower. Seeing sperm whales off Kaikoura. Standing before Sagrada Familia in awe. The laser light show over Hong Kong Harbour.
Breakfast blues
Three young people from the post-midnight cab rank. They were in a good mood, continuing a conversation about tummy rumbles as they hopped into the cab. Young man beside me, sweet young thing in the back, and another young chap beside her.
Golden Horn
“He blows a golden trumpet,” I tell the passengers, and out of all jazz musicians, I think I love him most of all. He also sings, and some of his love songs are classics, full of emotion and wordplay. My kind of music.
Looking for Blogmerica
This is going to be my travel blog. Not a list of what flights I took and what places I staid. No, this will be a collection of snapshots of places and meals and songs and snippets of history. Maybe others will like it, maybe I can attract other writers to contribute. Maybe it will end up as a rich, spicey, gumbo stew of American tasty treats.
Cheeseburger in Paradise
Kansas City – in Kansas – on a Saturday night. We headed off to Legends, a vast shopping mall built around a racetrack and sportsfields. An island building in the huge carpark, Cheeseburger in Paradise was our destination. There were thirty hungry BookCrossers to be fed. Just one of those convention meals that arise.