Taxi Journey From Hell

So picking up from where I last left you, it was 5.30am, I was tired and stressed from not having slept as I stayed up all night packing, also slightly fraught with worry that I was taking too much stuff and may not be able to fly. I was also suddenly lumped with an unexpected taxi fare. I thought – Ahh, Screw it. I’ll deal with whatever Virgin Nigeria come up with. Beg, plead, cry, whatever I have to. I could also snooze in the car for a little bit till I get to the airport. Wrong!

This young-ish Asian (Indian) dude pulls up and picks up the luggage. It’s pitch black but he doesn’t put on the full light beams in the car. He also starts tearing off at an insane speed. I was a little concerned but I thought, hey, he’s young, no cars on the road, he probably also has sharp reflexes. Wrong!

First Indication, he RAN A RED LIGHT AT A ROUNDABOUT. I was like Dude! You just ran a red light – and he was like yeah well, there was no one there so it’s ok. At this point I mentally shrugged and thought, hey it’s your license, your points, so … (shrug). I lay back and closed my eyes for a second. I opened them just in time to see that again at a roundabout, he hadn’t stopped to give way and some car had nearly barrelled into my side of the car. At this point I jerked screaming awake. I had to look and see how he was driving so he wouldn’t land me in some morgue by accident.

The back windscreen was misty and he couldn’t de-cloud it so I couldn’t see behind me. I made him put his full beams on so I could at least look out and see the road in front of us. At this point he asks if I mind if he smokes. I did mind but I thought you know what – if this helps him focus and drive properly then it’s a small price to pay. The cold air drafting in from the open window made it impossible to even relax so it was good I could watch what he was doing. I just mentally told myself that I would sleep on the plane.

We got onto the motorway and the real trouble began. This dude was straddling lanes like he was on a horse. I could see cars swerving to avoid us and either trying to overtake or fall back. Everyone just gave him a wide berth so they could see what he was doing. At one point, he was driving on the hard shoulder and I had to point it out to him. The dude didn’t know where he was going. I had to keep directing him – “you need to be in the last lane cos we’re exiting soon”; “You’re straddling lanes, and that car needs to overtake you”; “SLOW DOWN!!!!” At one point I just started to pray that “Please lord, let me just get to Gatwick safely. I promise never to drive like a maniac or speed stupidly if I get there in one piece. I mean, wouldn’t it just be too ironic if I die now, here, and not make it to Nigeria after all the stress I’ve been through? Please let me just get there in one piece”.

We continue driving erratically, and there are cars zooming, honking. I didn’t even want to shout too much incase he got more disorientated or took his eyes of the road. At one point, he suddenly stopped. ON THE MOTORWAY. I had to shout “Why have you stopped??” and he was like “OH! My mind! I’m sorry I was thinking of something …” and then launches into some story about how he just got married etc. In my mind, I’m like Dude – shut the fuck up and just drive. (Please please lord, this guy must be high, please please please, let me make it there safely!!. I’m too young too die, too fresh, too clean and I have to rock my new shoes – ok just slipped the last one in but you know what I mean).

The mad driving continued until I saw the bright lights of the airports and the cars queuing for the departure. I was never soo relieved to get out of the car. The guy now started begging – please please, not to report him, he’s just really disorientated; he didn’t know what came over him etc etc. I just said, fine, please just park somewhere and sleep/rest whatever. Don’t drive back like that (and have some stupid accident). I paid him his money and I left.

I managed to check in ok and there was no issue with my luggage or the weight (damn my mother for stressing me out). Naturally by this point, I was fucked! I was soo tired and wrung out. I found the nearest lounge, popped myself on some sofa, set my alarm and dozed. Woke up just in time to see my flight was about to start boarding. Finally got on the plane and proceeded to sleep most of the way there.

There in began the adventures of Noni in Nigeria. More coming soon.