Taxi Drivers in Uzbekistan

The Bad

Having found the local price for the fare from Samarkand to Shaqrisabz (4000-6000cym), I approach the taxi stand and ask how much it would cost for three people (Alice, Georgie and myself) to go there. One of the drivers offers to take us for 25,000 cym each. I tell him fifteen thousand, he agrees, I say total. He thanks me for the insulting offer talks about his starving children and storms off. Ten seconds later another driver approaches me and says he’ll take us.

Along the way he says he’ll be charging us for every stop we make. He insists we make a stop at a spot where they shot the Hollywood blockbuster Apache and proceeds to have a long smoke. He makes another stop to take in the view from the top of a pass, it’s beautiful but we didn’t ask to make it. He makes a final stop to negotiate the price of mutton meat. When he asks me to pay for the three stops, I tell him that I owe him for one stop, and that he made two of his own and wasted our time. I tell him we’ll call it even and leave him at that.

We organise a cheap price to Boysun from Guzor as the driver lets us crash at his place along the way. His family is incredibly nice, but the following day, he’s back again in taxi driver mode and starts trying to rip us off everywhere we go.

We organise a car to from Boysun to Termiz for six thousand cym each and the driver takes us to the hotel (instead of the Avtovokzal five hundred metres prior) and demands twenty five thousand total. I tell him eighteen, he insists on twenty five. I tell him eighteen, he asks for twenty two, I tell him eighteen. He’s holding my phone and makes a gesture as if to take the eighteen and my phone as payment. I make a gesture as if to break his nose. He takes the eighteen.

The driver from Bukhara to Khiva jokes around with us a lot, telling us how cool we are to be travelling with him. He drinks our water and coke. When we arrive at our guesthouse in Khiva, I forget my laptop in the car and ask the administrator to give him a call; I figure since he drove us to this hotel, they’ll have his number.

When he shows up five minutes later with my laptop, he asks for money for the delivery. Thinking he’s joking, I tell him he’s too nice and reach for the laptop.

Driver: No seriously, give me some money for returning it.

Me: That’s the typical Uzbek attitude, how much are you going to give?

Driver: Yeah it’s unfortunate, give me some money?

Me: How much?

Driver: As much as your heart desires.

Me: My heart doesn’t want to give you any money.

Driver: Give some anyway.

Me: Here, have a thousand.

Driver: Don’t be cheap.

Me: Typical, have two.

Driver: Two thousand for a laptop.

Me (getting pissed off): Fine, take three.

Driver: One more won’t hurt your finances.

Me (biting my tongue to keep from cursing the c*nt): Take your money and get out of my sight.

The Good

When in Termiz, we need to organise a taxi for the day to see the sights around the city. Our hotel administrator says it should cost 10-12 thousand cym total. After the fifth taxi driver to laugh at our offer and counter-offer twenty thousand, we’re about to give up when driver number six agrees to the price.

The driver ends up taking us to all the sights we wanted (palace of forty wives, mausoleum complex and Afghan border) and throws in some extras out of his goodwill (holiday house of the president, another mausoleum we hadn’t even heard of). Best of all, when we’re done sightseeing, he offers to take us for a swim an extra twenty minutes of driving. At the end of the day, when he drives us to the Vokzal (train station) he gives us a big bag of grapes from his own garden. When we pay him, we give him a 50% tip, he trusts us so much he doesn’t even bother counting the money we gave him. Turns out the driver, Tolik, is not a taxi driver by trade, he’s a dyno mechanic who’s just out earning a bit of money for his family.

When leaving Qarshi for Bukhara, we’re offered a price of twelve thousand cym. Since it’s a bit expensive, we try and negotiate. The head of the taxi stand refuses to budge on the price. One of the drivers organises to meet us outside of the shared taxi stand and take us for ten thousand cym. Anton, the driver, ends up spending an hour and a half with us in Bukhara trying to find a cheap hotel and even offers to take us to the nearby lake for the cost of petrol alone.

And the Smelly

Every driver who tries to rip us off happens to be fat. Every driver who’s fat happens to be smelly. The best of all is the guy from Termiz to Qarshi. He’s very fat and very smelly. He offers us a reasonable price and spends the next five minutes telling us how he doesn’t want to rip off foreigners.

The car breaks down along the way, the front left (driver side) suspension breaks, the driver’s weight may have played a part in it.