Legions of them, mainly in the form of green and yellow Volkswagen Beetles, scurry to hustle passengers from the ruins of Teotihuac n north of the Federal District to the canals of Xochimilco to the south, traversing the city laterally from the airport's barrios to tony Polanco. At last count, the government estimated 86,000 legitimate and 26,200 rogue cabs were on the roads. Rich and poor alike take cabs, whose metered fares start at 4.80 pesos and increase in half-kilometer intervals of 0.50 pesos, much lower than taxi rates in most U.S. cities. There is no per-passenger hike, either. This observer once saw 11 people, though mainly children, emerge from a single Volkswagen Bug cab at the Barranca del Muerto metro station one Saturday morning.
Drivers can be as varied as the passengers they ferry.
Some are downright cranky, while others suprisingly friendly. Thousands of aspirants currently are wending their way through Mexico City's byzantine bureaucracy in the hopes of winning one out of the 18,000 available cab concessions. No beaded seat massager can alleviate the discomfort of being seated for so long. Tourist business is slack, as well, after the U.S. and Canadian embassies urged citizens not to hail street cabs. For others, cab driving can be a last resort to dreams deferred.