You learn a lot about a city by driving around it at night. Sydney is a 24-hour town. Tourists make the mistake of assuming Sydney has always been so vibrant and cosmopolitan but of course it's a relatively recent phenomenon. As with London and New York, the red light district is now the place of choice for late night partygoers. No longer is it inherently dangerous to pick up fares in Kings Cross. Sure, there is still an element of hard core druggies and prostitutes there, but the overriding danger is long gone. Where else in the world could you find a council library sharing the block with up market nightclubs, a strip joint and a heroin-injecting room? The injecting room in question is a No Smoking environment, by the way.
The Olympics was the catalyst for a lot of this "clean up". By the summer of 2000, Sydney was noticeably cleaner - late night hotels, alfresco dining, even coordinated traffic lights. Other previously seedy areas have also been gentrified - districts like Bondi, White Bay and Rozelle (now euphemistically called Balmain), Redfern, Chippendale and Alexandria - with the conversion of commercial buildings and factories into housing. More people are living downtown and on the city fringes, close to the employment, education and entertainment. The majority of these residents don't have a car: it's more economical to rely on taxis and public transport.
Beyond the 24-hour city centre, only the regional areas of Manly, Parramatta, Bondi, Penrith, Cronulla and Liverpool have comparable night activities. These areas provide enough entertainment for most and it's not uncommon to encounter young people in their late teens who have never been into the city on a night out. Such is the sprawling nature of Sydney.
Sydney doesn't just party later, it works around the clock, too. White- collar workers are expected to stay until the job's done and emerge from offices at all hours of the night. Instead of overtime they are given a cab fare home. Cabbies love 'em! But it doesn't matter how much you earn, few people in Sydney seem to be able to save money.
Of course, driving at night brings an element of risk, and you have to know how to handle troublemakers. I rely on a two-stage strategy. First, I gauge the strength of a threat by starting a conversation. You can quickly tell the difference between harmless banter and serious intent. If there is intent, then a golden rule is immediately employed: I terminate the fare cutting my losses with a free trip. Occasionally, when trapped, I simply drive like a (controlled) maniac, thereby transferring the fear to them. Tough guys don't wear seat belts. Early in my driving days, I persevered with drunken arseholes threatening, in one case, to slice me up, and in another, to shoot me. With the latter I drove like a bat out of hell, impressing him enough that he tipped me heavily and requested my number for future work.
I have had a few celebrities in the back of my cab. I probably don't notice half of them because I tend not to pay much attention to people's faces in the dark, unless they misbehave. Some I have recognised include radio presenters Merrick and Rosso and Murray Wilton, the Irish pop star Brian McFadden, entertainer Barry Crocker and playwright Andrew Upton. All on their best behavior. Then there's been some NRL players on their Mad Mondays: the less said about them the better.
More memorable and rewarding for me is when I've been able to identify a passenger's problems or unhappiness. It's usually about relationships. If I can relate to their situation enough to offer some worthwhile comfort or advice, it's immensely satisfying to have them leave the cab with a happier or more hopeful disposition. I once picked up a kid with Down's Syndrome travelling alone one night after his brother's wedding. He was heading home to his mother who'd refused to attend the wedding because she didn't like the bride. It was heart-breaking. We ended up talking about the Grand Final instead.
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