cab ride

When we were traveling around Spain and Portugal we put a lot of trust in our taxi drivers. They know where they're going. We didn't.  So, upon arrival in a new town we'd hop in a cab and ask the cabby to take us to whatever hotel we had lined up for that night. For the most part this worked out just fine. Until we arrived in a town call Faro in southern Portugal. We had just emerged from the train station and were a weeeeee bit hungover from a few too many glasses of wine the night before. We had just finished a grueling 3 hour train ride and were ready to get to our hotel and lay down. We walked directly to the line of yellow cars out front, threw our bags into the trunk of the first cab in line and hopped into the back seat. Michelle told the driver the name of the hotel. "Oh, Si!" he said and started the engine. I settled in for a long ride thru a new city. He pulled away from the curb and into traffic for approximately 2.5 seconds. He then pulled back to the curb and cut off the engine. He looked back at us in the rear view mirror...expectantly. We looked back at him...baffled. Are we stuck? Did the engine die? Do we have a flat?     ?      Silence... just that look... in the rear view mirror. Finally he said with a Portuguese accent "We are here!"     HUH?         No, we're still at the train station...right? So i looked out the window and sure enough there was our hotel...right next door to the train station. That ride cost us about 3 bucks. Nice Mr. Portuguese cabby. Nice. You could have just pointed.