Trying to get a taxi
in Newbury feels like time travel

There are some things Britain does brilliantly.

Country pubs. Old market towns. Sunday roasts. Queuing.

And then there is trying to get a taxi in Newbury.

If you are used to living somewhere where transport means opening an app, seeing a price, tapping a button and watching a little car move towards you on a map, Newbury can feel like you have accidentally travelled back twenty years.

The first surprise is that Uber isn't really part of the equation.

Your instinct is to pull out your phone, open the app and expect half a dozen cars to appear nearby.

Instead, nothing useful happens.

So you move on to the traditional method: finding the number of a local taxi company and actually calling someone.

Already this feels strangely nostalgic.

How much will it be?

This is where things get interesting.

With Uber, whatever you think of surge pricing, at least the deal is fairly clear.

You put in where you are.

You put in where you are going.

It tells you roughly what it will cost.

In Newbury, asking the price of a taxi can feel more like opening negotiations at a Moroccan market.

"How much to East Ilsley?"

There is sometimes a pause.

You can almost imagine somebody staring thoughtfully into the middle distance.

"Erm... £35."

Why £35?

Who knows.

Maybe there is a meter.

Maybe there is a tariff.

Maybe the price has been carefully calculated using mileage, waiting time and local licensing rules.

But as a passenger, it can occasionally feel as though the number has simply materialised in the driver's head.

Ask the same question another day and you half expect a completely different answer.

The strangest part is that, because there is no app sitting between you and the driver, you have almost no idea what the journey is supposed to cost.

You just accept it.

Then comes the payment question

You've successfully found a taxi.

You've successfully agreed on a price.

You arrive at your destination.

Then comes the question that, in 2026, still somehow needs asking:

"Do you take cards?"

Sometimes the answer is no.

Not Apple Pay.

Not contactless.

Not a card reader.

Cash.

Actual physical money.

This creates another problem.

Who carries cash anymore?

There was a time when leaving the house with a wallet containing £30 or £40 was completely normal.

Today, I can leave home with nothing except my phone and barely notice.

I can buy coffee with it.

I can pay for parking with it.

I can get on public transport with it.

I can pay for something costing thousands of pounds with a tap or a digital wallet.

But apparently a short taxi ride through West Berkshire may still require a £20 note.

Don't worry, I'll take you to a cash point

This is my favourite part.

You explain that you don't have cash.

You assume this presents an insurmountable technological problem.

But no.

The taxi industry has developed its own ingenious solution.

They will drive you to a cash point.

Think about the absurdity of that for a moment.

We have reached a point where the technological solution to not accepting digital payments is to use a car to physically transport the customer to a machine that dispenses paper money.

You are now effectively taking a taxi journey within your taxi journey in order to pay for the taxi journey.

And presumably the meter is still running.

It is beautifully British.

The problem is not really the drivers

To be fair, most of the drivers themselves are perfectly pleasant.

The problem is the experience.

There is little of the transparency and convenience people have become accustomed to elsewhere.

You don't necessarily know exactly when the taxi will arrive.

You don't always know what it will cost before booking.

You may not know whether you can pay by card.

There is no live map.

There is no automatic receipt.

There is no driver profile.

There is no obvious feedback mechanism.

And if plans change, you are back to making phone calls.

None of these things seemed unusual fifteen or twenty years ago.

Now they really do.

Newbury isn't exactly the middle of nowhere

That is what makes it particularly strange.

Newbury isn't some isolated hamlet halfway up a mountain.

It is a prosperous town in southern England, sitting on the M4 corridor, surrounded by major businesses and within commuting distance of London.

It has Vodafone's historic UK headquarters nearby, a racecourse, a railway station with direct services towards London and plenty of people who expect modern digital services.

Yet getting home after dinner can still involve phoning a taxi office and making sure you have enough banknotes.

There is something wonderfully contradictory about it.

You can spend the evening paying for everything with your phone, then suddenly discover that the final eight miles home require the financial infrastructure of 1997.

What people actually want is very simple

It doesn't even have to be Uber.

Local taxi companies could provide essentially the same convenience themselves.

Let me book on my phone.

Show me the car coming.

Tell me the price.

Let me pay digitally.

Send me a receipt.

Done.

I don't particularly care which company provides the service or whether the driver's car has an Uber sticker on the window.

What people have become accustomed to is not necessarily Uber.

It is certainty.

You know somebody is coming.

You know approximately when they will arrive.

You know how much you're paying.

And you know you can pay for it.

Until then, carry a £20 note

Newbury is a great town and West Berkshire is a fantastic place to live and visit.

But if you're heading out for dinner and planning to get a taxi home, there is one piece of advice worth remembering.

Charge your phone.

Book early.

Ask the price before you get in.

And whatever you do, find some cash.

Because otherwise there's a reasonable chance your journey home will include an unexpected sightseeing trip to the nearest cash machine.

Welcome to the future.

Almost.