How Malta White Taxi Driver Ripped Me Off, Nearly Killing Me
Oh, the infamous white taxis of Malta …
There probably isn’t a single person who has lived on this rock for over a few years and doesn’t have a story to share that involves the white taxis. Needless to say, these stories are usually quite negative in nature.
My ‘Malta White Taxi’ Story
I admit — the title of this article may have been a bit too much of a ‘click-bait’. Did a white taxi driver hold a knife against my throat? Not quite. But he sure did put me in grave danger, which sadly is very common.
My story begins in Paceville, like many of them do. I was being a responsible citizen and decided to hitch a taxi home, rather than driving. Unfortunately, though, my first preference eCabs gave me a 45-minute waiting time, and wanting to get home sooner, I opted to give the white taxis a(nother) chance.
So there I was — in front of the Bay Street Complex — looking for my new master for the next 20 minutes. I’ve already learned long ago that all taximeters installed in Malta collectively “break” on every Friday at 5pm, and remain broken until Sunday afternoon. So there I was, negotiating a fixed price.
“At first, I thought my driver had some car troubles or had run out of petrol”
5 minutes in, I managed to talk the price from Paceville to Mosta down from the original 45 Euros to 30 Euros, which is “only” €17 more expensive than eCabs. But keen to get home, I didn’t really care too much and off we went.
The Ride From Hell and a Surprise Passenger
This is where the “life-threatening” part begins. And again, my apologies to all the action hunters who wanted to read about a driver pulling a gun on me — didn’t happen.
What did happen was reckless driving like I’ve rarely seen before. Not only did the driver nearly run over an (admittedly, drunken) guy on his way speeding out of Paceville, but the moment we reached the Regional Road, his speedometer stopped showing two-digit numbers.
Now those of you who know me are well aware that I’m not the calmest driver myself. I do deem some of the speed limits here significantly too low. But even my manic tendencies certainly don’t involve going 135km/h on the Regional Road, or worse — 130km/h on Triq Dun Karm — a road that has roundabouts once every few hundred meters and has the speed limit of 60km/h.
Having politely suggested the driver to take it easy (in honesty — brick walls have been more responsive to my suggestions!), I fastened my seatbelt and held on. Until we stopped.
“You said me this exit. Now I waste 5 minutes. This 5 more Euro”, he yells back in his broken English.
At first, I thought my driver had some car troubles or had run out of petrol, but as it turned out — we stopped to have a little chat with someone who was hailing a cab on the side of the road. And having learned that this someone goes in the same general direction as I did, on he jumped. For another 30 euros of pocket money for the driver!
And there was me thinking this kind of stuff only happens in places like Egypt or Greece — where the culture is, well, a bit “different”.
Take the Second Exit — No — The Other Second Exit
Speeding along with my driver up front and my new (forced) friend next to me on the backseat, we reached the edge of Mosta, where I live. This is where the compulsory “where do I go from here” part starts — with me explaining which turns to take, and the driver trying to comply to the best of his abilities.
For the sake of clarity I have to add that as an old habit of sorts, I do always give my taxi drivers the exact address when jumping in. Is it ever of any use? Nope! :-)
Luckily, I was neither completely hammered nor lost, so being quite confident in my navigation skills, I was happy to oblige.
“Nik had his nose broken, several front teeth gone, a number of serious wounds and a black eye”
“Take the second exit off the oncoming roundabout”, I said.
“…!…h98@jfls..”, he responded.
… only to proceed to the roundabout and — take the third exit.
“You took the wrong exit boss”, I said.
“You said me this exit. Now I waste 5 minutes. This 5 more Euro”, he yells back in his broken English.
I argued a little bit, trying to explain that going to the next roundabout 100 meters away and turning around most certainly didn’t take anywhere near 5 minutes — and even if it did, it was him who screwed up (so perhaps he should apply a discount to the bill instead, for wasting MY time? — didn’t tell him that), but the level of response was once again comparable to one you’d expect to receive from a dish of vegetarian lasagne.
The Sweet Farewell
I won’t bore you with the details of my driver getting lost once more (as “just drive to the Mosta rotunda” is clearly a task too difficult to follow), but we finally arrived.
If I had 30 Euros of exact change in my pocket then the story would’ve probably ended here, but I didn’t. Instead, I gave the driver a 50-Euro bill and, sure enough, received €15 of change.
Having gotten rather agitated (but not for one second impolite or rude), I figured I most certainly won’t leave it like this. So we proceeded into what was a good 5-minute discussion that of course led nowhere.
At the end, I only managed to “win” by threatening to call the police, at which point the driver mumbled something and (literally!) threw a 5-Euro bill at me on the backseat.
And mind you — all this while our other passenger was still in the car, witnessing all of it.
Others Haven’t Been As Lucky
My story may have been agitating or disturbing, but at least I was never at risk of physical violence. This can’t be said for some others, unfortunately.
This photo is of a friend of a friend, who was allegedly “savagely beaten” (sic) by the driver of a white taxi last autumn in Paceville.
Nik had his nose broken, several front teeth gone, a number of serious wounds and a black eye — injuries that could’ve easily led to permanent disability or death.
There are several “stories” circling around about the reasons for this, but at the end of the day, none of it matters. Unless their life is put in immediate danger, no person should ever deliver a beating like this. And this is especially true if that person is running a public transportation vehicle.
Bottom Line
One only needs to Google for about a minute to find a number of stories and reports similar to this one, so it’s certainly not an isolated event.
My honest recommendation to those needing to use taxis in Malta is to use a reputable taxi company like eCabs or Yellow Cabs and avoid white taxis like the plague. You’ll get better service, better prices, and often better cars, so there’s really no reason not to.
Got your own Malta white taxi story to share? Shoot through a comment below!
