Had no transport available to me today so I had to take the taxi to and from school. It was a very.. interesting experience.

On the journey to school, the taxi driver was lethargic, to say the least. The traffic was pretty bad on the way to school and I noticed that the driver seemed to be slow to start moving after stopping and would only move after the angry blaring horns of the cars behind us prompted him to. During one of these stops, I looked over at the driver to see what was going on.

To my amazement he was nodding off in front of the wheel, his head angled down, eyes closed. I only realize now that this should have put me into panicohmygodimgonnadie mode, but at that time, I was only bemused by this fact. Quite worrying about what that says about my outlook on life. Happily (or unhappily, depending on what you think of me) I made it to my destination alive and in one piece. Come to think of it, I ought to have given the driver an extra 50 and told him to get himself some coffee.

The driver of the taxi I took to my house though was quite the opposite. He was ANGRY. By my count, he shouted out in anger to two people enroute (even lowering his window to facilitate the shouting) in addition to the curses he muttered at the traffic. The curses to the traffic I could understand, but was it really necessary to roll down his window to shout?

Public transport. Where every trip is a new adventure.