Kerre Woodham: Worst cab off the rank

Photo / Rotorua Daily Post

It used to be a relatively simple exercise, using cabs. You'd ring them, they'd come to your door and for a reasonable fee, they'd take you to where you wanted to go.

And with the advances in modern technology, you'd think it would be even more simple these days. Navman and Google Maps and BlackBerries - hell, you'd imagine cab companies would be ringing you before you even knew that you wanted to go out.

But instead, I've been having hassle after hassle with cab drivers who have such limited knowledge of the city's streets, it's a wonder they don't have their names and addresses pinned to their shirts in case they get lost. And it's not like I'm putting them through their paces.

I live in Grey Lynn. I don't go far from home. It's not like I'm asking them to take me to a cul de sac in Waiou Pa. On one occasion, I ordered a cab to the airport and the driver asked me which way. "Do you mean the route I prefer?" I asked. "No," he said, "which way is it from here? I'm new."

Another tore off towards Point Chev when I asked to be taken to SPQR on Ponsonby Rd. When I remonstrated with him, he executed a dangerous U-turn and screamed down suburban streets at 80km/h, muttering darkly in Korean.

And last Friday, when a mate and I were heading out to Tim Finn's concert at the Windsor Castle in Parnell, the driver was completely stumped. "Where's that?" he asked. "I imagined you would know," I told the driver. "No," he said, "I don't." "Can't you ask someone?" I said through clenched teeth, "or look it up in a map book?" He looked blank. "I need a street address," he said.

He was about to make me get out in the pouring rain to go back inside, turn off the alarm, turn on the computer and find the address myself until my friend, sifting through the Filofax in her mind, recalled she'd once lived in Parnell for a short time and vaguely remembered where it might be. Off we went and $28 later, we were at the Windsor. Which is on the main drag. And which looked like it had been there for a while.

Surely it's not unreasonable to expect the driver to have some idea where the fricking place was?

The drivers are all, to a man, lovely. Clean, well-spoken and they were probably rocket scientists in their home countries. I don't want to get thin-lipped and snakey. After all, it's not their fault.

The hiring process at this particular cab company is faulty. And it's not like I use Dodgy Bastard Cabs. There are only three I use - but after two years of appalling service, that's it. It's Corporate all the way from now on, and if they're not available, I'll use Co-op because they, at least, have Navman. And if they're not available, then I'll just stay home. It's not worth the aggravation.