Dublin Taxi Drivers and Thick Accents
Taxi drivers seem to suffer nearly as much scorn as lawyers in our culture. Everybody, whether they live in London, Toronto or Nipising, seems to think that their taxi drivers are the worst. Check out Joe’s recent post about trying to get a taxi with booster seats in Ireland:
When I arrived at the rank the first taxi driver refused to take us because he didn’t have booster seats for my children (aged 3 and 5, no that he asked or cared). The rest of the rank then proceeded to refuse in the same way with mutterings of “2000 euro fines”. In the end we abandoned the rank and got my sister to drive in and pick us up.
That just became reason #35 on the con side of parenting.
Regardless, it reminded me of a story about taxis and living in Dublin. Most taxi drivers are from the north side of the city centre, and have a remarkably thick accent (and plenty of slang). Multiply the accents in The Commitments by five, and you’ll get a sense of what I’m talking about. Of course, over time, you get accustomed to these accents, and can more or less understand them.
We didn’t have a car in Ireland, but we’d often have visitors coming over from Canada. We’d usually go out and meet them at the airport, and take the taxi back into town together. I’d usually sit in the front seat while our guests would sit in the back. I’d have a chat with the driver about football or traffic or the EU or whatever he wanted to complain about that day.
The Canadians in the back seat would eventually stop their own conversation and listen intently to our chat. Eventually, one of them would always turn to Julie and say something like, “wow, Darren learned to understand a new language”. In their defence, to the unintroduced ear, the most intense accents can sound nearly
unintelligible.
