Taxi Driver Online

A London experiance from 1994.
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November 29, 1994, Tuesday

HEADLINE: A fare cop; Taxi drivers are at war everywhere. In London, minicabs are paying hotel staff backhanders to steal trade from black cabs

BYLINE: MARIE WOOLF

Standing in the lobby of the Cumberland Hotel - a four-star establishment in Marble Arch, central London - we looked, so we imagined, like archetypal ladies who lunch. But we were here not to examine hemlines, but claims that in hotels throughout the country staff are making deals with taxis in return for lucrative tourist fares.

At 7.30pm, after taking cocktails in the hotel bar, Nicole, a French fashion writer, and I strolled up to the nearest staff member.

''Can I have a cab to the airport, Heathrow?'' asked Nicole in broken English. ''I need one in 20 minutes.''

Without hesitation he directed us to the rank of waiting cabs outside - the correct procedure according to the Licensed Taxi Drivers' Association (LTDA).

We clutched our shopping bags and headed outside, wondering whether claims by the LTDA that the Cumberland was one of the hotels where ''backhanders'' were being given were unfounded. Then, as we stepped out in front of the rank, we spotted two porters loitering nearby.

''We would like a cab in 20 minutes. Where can we get one?'' Nicole asked. Behind us were about six black taxis waiting in the rank.

The doormen, stifling a grin, instructed us to return at 8pm. When we returned a licensed black cab - with pounds 4 already registered on its meter - was standing by the kerb.

Chattering away in French about ''shopping'', '' 'arrods'' and ''Buckingham Palace'' we were whisked towards Heathrow. The driver, oblivious to the fact that we understood every word he said, rang a friend on his mobile to boast about ''the second airport job he's given me'' from the Cumberland that day. He was pleased with the pounds 35 fare he received (pounds 10 more than the estimated fare in light traffic).

The next day I informed the hotel of what had happened. The duty manager agreed to investigate the incident and prevent it happening again.

Our next stop was the Marble Arch Marriott Hotel, the site of a recent picket by the LTDA. There we asked one of the lobby staff if we could have a taxi to Heathrow - despite the fact that there is a rank about 50 yards away. He said he would call one for us and a black cab sped up about 25 minutes later. Pretending that we had missed our flight, we asked him to drop us at a second Marriott hotel in Grosvenor Square.

There he handed to us a privately printed card - ''Airports, Theatres, Beanos, Coast Runs'' - and told us to phone him on his mobile in the morning and he would take us to Heathrow - an act that the Metropolitan Police Carriage office says is illegal.

The manager of the Marble Arch Marriott hotel said he would investigate the matter. ''The critical thing for us is customer service. We think our staff should call taxis for guests if they ask for them. But as far as I'm concerned if there's a rank, the taxi should be off the rank.''

At the Grosvenor Square Marriott an obliging member of the lobby staff ordered a minicab for us. The driver said it would cost us pounds 30 for a trip to Heathrow - pounds 10 more than the fare quoted by his company. Balking at the price, we asked ( with French accents) to be taken to a West London nightclub.

According to his company controller, this two-mile journey would cost about pounds 6. But after being driven straight past the club and miles out of our way we were charged pounds 15.

When we told the Grosvenor Square Marriott, they took the matter seriously. A manager said she would investigate immediately.

At the club Nicole and I made a beeline for the bar, only to discover that after our expensive investigation we could not afford a drink.
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1994 or 2004? same then, same today.

The 'faces' will always be there, whether it be Taxi's or Minicabs.

The Hotel trade survives on low pay and are becoming ever more reliant on tips to make there chosen trade viable, so if a taxi driver offers you a bung of £10 for a 'flyers' you can bet your bottom dollar they'lll strike a deal.

The porter at the Westbury in Conduit street (an east European) hailed me on a Sunday evening during the world cup when cabs were in demand,

'eets a flyer boss' he says.
'and?' says I.
'weel you keep me sweet boss?' he says smiling.
'sorry, no chocolate in here mate' says I (smiling)

Needless to say the next time I'm passing the Westbury on a wet night, I'll be sure to wave back when he waves at me to stop.