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Quo Vadis, Karwa?
Stepping out of the Paranormal, it's usually not too hard to find a taxi within a few minutes. Better still, there's a fair chance the driver will know where you want to go, and how to get there, even if you're a bit vague on that yourself, or rendered speechless by Happy Hour. Be glad you're not in Doha! There, the fleet of unroadworthy orange taxis has been decommissioned, and with them has gone the knowledge of Where Places Are. Yes, they had no AC, and yes, many of the drivers were, shall we say, ancient and pungent, but they knew where they were going. The new, official, green taxi fleet is a repository for monumental geographical innocence. It's not the drivers' fault. You bring fifty guys from Kerala, sack the ten who have never driven in their lives, and put the remaining forty into shiny new Toyota Camrys. And that's it. On your way, boys - drive. Then there's the language problem. In a country where Arabic and English are the business languages, it's not especially helpful only to speak Malayalam.