A Mile Is Still a Mile: In Defence of the Short Local Cab

There's a particular tone people use when they ring for a short trip. It's half-apologetic, half-defensive: "Sorry, it's only up to the top of the road." Or "I know it's not far, but...". The apology arrives before the address does.

We'd like to retire it. A short journey isn't a cheeky request or a moral failing. Around Ware and Hertford, it's often the most sensible part of someone's day.

The apology we hear most often

Somewhere along the way, we all absorbed the idea that a taxi is for occasions: airports, weddings, the Christmas do. Anything under a mile and a half starts to feel like an indulgence, and the person booking it feels obliged to explain themselves. Meanwhile the same person will happily pay for next-day delivery on a phone charger without a flicker of guilt.

The logic doesn't really hold. A cab is a service you buy because it solves a specific problem. The length of the trip isn't the measure of whether the problem was real.

Where the "it's only a short walk" argument falls apart

It's usually true that the distance is short. It's the rest of the sentence that's wrong — the assumption that short distance equals no difficulty.

The weekly shop. Try carrying four bags from Ware High Street back towards the far end of town, or from Hertford's Fore Street up into Bengeo, and see how far the "it's only a mile" argument gets you. Add rain and it gets shorter still.

An injury, temporary or otherwise. Crutches, a walking boot, a bad back, a hip that's been playing up since March. Half a mile on a good day is a different proposition on a bad one. This is also the group that gets forgotten in conversations about taxis: people who can walk a bit, but not that bit, and not with shopping.

Weather with an attitude. Winter pavements in Hertfordshire are a genuine hazard — wet leaves, ice in the shaded bits, puddles that turn out to be potholes. Nobody needs to justify not wanting to slide down Port Hill with a bag of shopping in each hand.

A connection that doesn't wait. The 08:52 into Hertford North and a 09:05 appointment the other side of town. Or a train into Ware with twenty minutes to make an onward connection. These are the trips where eight minutes in a car replaces a forty-minute walk plus a wait, and where the maths is straightforward.

On minimum fares, and asking a straight question

Short trips do have a floor. Most firms apply a minimum fare, because a five-minute journey still costs the same in fuel, insurance, licensing and the driver's time as the first five minutes of a longer one. That's not a penalty aimed at short-hop customers; it's just how the arithmetic works.

The sensible thing is to ask when you book. "What's the minimum fare, and what would that trip cost?" is a perfectly reasonable question and any decent local firm will answer it without a sigh. What you shouldn't have to do is guess, or worse, pad the story out to justify the request.

The awkwardness belongs to the customer, not the driver

Here's the bit people don't believe: drivers genuinely don't mind short fares. A run from Hertford station to a street off Castle Street is a job. It's ten minutes of work, it's local, and it might be the first of six short jobs that evening that add up to a decent shift.

What drivers do mind is being treated like a last resort — the hesitant phone call, or the customer who feels obliged to explain their medical history before giving a postcode. Neither is necessary. Give the pickup, give the destination, and let the driver do the rest.

When we'd honestly tell you to walk

Being fair means saying so. If it's a dry Tuesday afternoon, you've got one light bag, no deadline and no mobility issue, then walking from Hertford's Maidenhead Street down to Hartham Common is a nicer use of fifteen minutes than sitting in traffic. There's no shame in that answer either.

A local firm that only ever says "yes, book a cab" isn't being helpful. It's being a vending machine. The value of a local service is knowing the streets well enough to say "honestly, you'll be there in ten minutes on foot" when that's the truth.

The bigger point: taxis are infrastructure, not treats

For anyone without a car — and there are plenty of households across Ware, Hertford and the villages in between — the short trip isn't a luxury at all. It's how you get the shopping home, how you get to an appointment when your knee's gone, how you get a child and a buggy through a downpour without arriving at nursery soaked.

The short hop is the least glamorous thing a taxi firm does, and quite possibly the most useful. So next time you ring and start with "sorry, it's only a short one", skip the apology. We'll see you outside in five minutes.