βοΈ Plane β $120 Journey: 1:24 π Coach β $44 Journey: 6:45 π BlaBlaCar β $30 Journey: 5:50
I’ve been using BlaBlaCar since 2011, back when in Russia it still went by the name Podorozhniki.
Tens of thousands of kilometres behind the wheel and in the passenger seat. I’m fond of the format: you’re travelling, and you don’t need a box set β your fellow passengers will tell you everything, from family drama to the philosophy of life on a cornfield.
In Europe the service has rather gone downhill: instead of a cosy ride share, it’s mostly dreary coaches now. Less road trip, more National Express to Luton at five in the morning.
In Mexico, BlaBlaCar is thriving like a cactus after a rare shower β in full bloom and smelling of roses.
The choice came down to price and comfort. The coaches are actually decent, with recliners. But the bus station was a 5 km trudge away. Hence BlaBlaQuack.
A distinguished don pulled up at the hotel in his RAM β a pepelats, as Russians would say, after the flying rust bucket from a Soviet sci-fi comedy. Think Reliant Robin with ideas above its station. A vehicle with character: it rattled, it farted, but it went.
He dropped me at Mexico City airport. All very proper, bar the traffic jams slow-roasting us like a Sunday joint.
After that, the tried-and-tested routine: the metro to the hotel for $0.27. Uber wanted $20.
#blablacar #mexico
