Will Mexico City's careering, polluting, dinosaur microbuses finally go extinct?

Decrepit green coating? Check. Loud ’80s music? Check. Doors wide open so you can say hi to the driver from the sidewalk? Check. The driver also happens to be on the phone? Check.

You have successfully ticked all the boxes of an authentic microbús in Mexico City.

For “Latin America’s smartest city”, the small, overcrowded buses are dinosaurs of sorts. Usually, Mexico City likes to brag about its transportation system, which is made up of 195 metro stations, 6,000 shared public bikes and fast-lane bus system. But the microbús stands out for its looks, pollution levels and unruliness. So politicians are looking for ways to get rid of them.

The system of microbuses was developed organically and under limited governmental supervision. To hop on one of these vehicles, all you need to do is stand by a street corner and wave. But to get somewhere specific – like, home – it’s best to pray to God (or Google Maps), because the bus won’t follow the same route back and forth. Official maps do not exist and different lines sometimes share the same route number.

But the greatest charge against them is pollution.

Mexico City is not exactly known for its pure air, and all 35,000 microbuses roaming around the metropolis emit more than 1.5m tons of CO2 per year, as well as particulates and Nitrogen Oxides. This is mainly due to the vehicles’ age: most of them are more than 20 years old (think Spice Girls era).

But not only do they pollute, microbuses have a knack of rebelling against traffic rules.

Mexico City's infamous traffic. Image: Carlos Van Vegas.

When they’re not driving through red lights, they drive sluggishly to make sure no potential passenger is missed.

The habit of speeding, changing lanes and abruptly breaking is driven by a fierce competition between microbús drivers. Because they evolved from collective taxis back in the 1960s, microbuses are privately owned. Drivers buy their own buses (or “rent” them from small companies), get a license from the city’s Secretary of Transportation and work on a route which is often already occupied by other drivers. And since their pay is correlated to the number of passengers they pick up, it is not uncommon to see them race each other down the streets of Mexico City.

The government’s initial and rather ambitious goal was to get rid of 20,000 microbuses by 2018. The local authorities encourage drivers to buy greener vehicles by simply not renewing their licenses and by launching a campaign to collect the rolling carcasses for scrap metal. In June 2017, only 30 per cent of the objective was achieved – leaving 14,000 microbuses to eradicate by the deadline next year.

A microbus in action. Image: Fabz.

Raising the fee of microbuses would perhaps work better. On April 27, 2017, a ride on a microbús went from four to five pesos, with the official reason being that higher gasoline prices demanded higher fares. The very next day, there were 200,000 more people choosing to get around town via the metro. But that option is available only to the 13 per cent of residents living near a metro stop.

When the iconic microbús goes extinct, what will people use? Both politicians and city dwellers may deride microbuses for the reckless driving habits of the drivers and the foul and toxic stench of their diesel engines, but the truth is – they’re indispensable.

With more than 21m people living in Mexico City and the urban surroundings, the sprawling “Valley of Mexico” is twice the size of London.

Mexico City's colonial core. Image: Jeff Kramer.

For the 13m who live on the outskirts, public transportation is practically nonexistent, except for the few bus and fast train lines – meanwhile, current governmental plans to develop transport capacity seem inconclusive.

All in all, a timid eight per cent of the capital’s population opt for government-controlled metros and buses while more than 50 per cent hop on licensed microbuses daily. So, as battered and unglamorous the microbús may be, it fulfills the transportation needs of the majority of the capital’s residents.

For the time being, the four-wheel dinosaur reigns supreme in Mexico City’s transport landscape. With no viable alternatives, the extinction of microbuses can wait.

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Where actually is South London?

TFW Stephen Bush tells you that Chelsea is a South London team. Image: Getty.

To the casual observer, this may not seem like a particularly contentious question: isn’t it just everything ‘under’ the Thames when you look at the map? But despite this, some people will insist that places like Fulham, clearly north of the river, are in South London. Why?

Here are nine ways of defining South London.

The Thames

Image: Google Maps/CityMetric.

It’s a curvy river, the Thames. Hampton Court Palace, which is on the north bank of the river, is miles south of the London Eye, on the south bank. If the river forms a hard border between North and South Londons, then logically sometimes North London is going to be south of South London, which is, to be fair, confusing. But how else could we do it?

Latitude

You could just draw a horizontal line across a central point (say, Charing Cross, where the road distances are measured from). While this solves the London Eye/Hampton Court problem, this puts Thamesmead in North London, and Shepherd’s Bush in South London, which doesn’t seem right either.

Image: Google Maps/CityMetric.

And if you tried to use longitude to define West and East London on top of this, nothing would ever make sense ever again.

The Post Office

Image: Wikimedia Commons.

Some people give the Post Office the deciding vote, arguing that North and South London are defined by their postcodes. This does have some advantages, such as removing many contentious areas from the debate because they’re either in the West, East or Central postcode divisions, or ignoring Croydon.

But six of the SW postcodes are north of the river Thames, so we’re back to saying places like Fulham and Chelsea are in south London. Which is apparently fine with some people, but are we also going to concede that Big Ben and Buckingham Palace are South London landmarks?

Taken to the extreme this argument denies that South London exists at all. The South postcode region was abolished in 1868, to be merged into the SE and SW regions. The S postcode area is now Sheffield. So is Sheffield in South London, postcode truthers? Is that what you want?

Transport for London

Image: TfL.

At first glance TfL might not appear to have anything to add to the debate. The transport zones are about distance from the centre rather than compass point. And the Northern Line runs all the way through both North and South London, so maybe they’re just confused about the entire concept of directions.

 

Image: TfL.

But their website does provide bus maps that divide the city into 5 regions: North East, South East, South West, North West and the Centre. Although this unusual approach is roughly speaking achieved by drawing lines across and down the middle, then a box around the central London, there are some inconsistencies. Parts of Fulham are called for the South West region, yet the whole of the Isle of Dogs is now in North East London? Sick. It’s sick.

The Boundary Commission

One group of people who ought to know a thing or two about boundaries is the Boundary Commission for England. When coming up with proposals for reforming parliamentary constituencies in 2011, it first had to define ‘sub-regions’ for London.

Initially it suggested three – South, North East, and a combined North, West and Central region, which included Richmond (controversial!) – before merging the latter two into ‘North’ and shifting Richmond back to the South.

In the most recent proposal the regions have reverted to North Thames and South Thames (splitting Richmond), landing us right back where we started. Thanks a bunch, boundary commission.

The London Plan

Image: Greater London Authority.

What does the Mayor of London have to say? His office issues a London Plan, which divides London into five parts. Currently ‘South’ includes only Bromley, Croydon, Kingston upon Thames, Merton, Sutton, and Wandsworth, while the ‘North’ consists of just Barnet, Enfield, and Haringey. Everywhere else is divvied into East, South or Central.

While this minimalist approach does have the appeal of satisfying no-one, given the scheme has been completely revised twice since 2004 it does carry the risk of seismic upheaval. What if Sadiq gets drunk on power and declares that Islington is in East London? What then?

Wikipedia

 

Image: Wikimedia Commons/CityMetric.

The coordinates listed on the South London article lead to Brockwell Park near Herne Hill, while the coordinates on the North London article lead to a garden centre near Redbridge. I don’t know what this means, so I tried to ring the garden centre to see if they had any advice on the matter. It was closed.

Pevsner Guides

Image: Wikimedia Commons/CityMetric.

Art historian Sir Nikolaus Pevsner might seem an unlikely source of help at this juncture, but we’ve tried everything else. And the series of architectural guides that he edited, The Buildings of England, originally included 2 volumes for London: “The Cities of London and Westminster”, and “everything else”. Which is useless.

But as his successors have revised his work, London has expanded to fill 6 volumes: North, North West, East, The City, Westminster, and South. South, quite sensibly, includes every borough south of the Thames, and any borough that is partly south of the Thames (i.e. Richmond). And as a bonus: West London no longer exists.

McDonald’s

I rang a McDonald’s in Fulham and asked if they were in South London. They said no.

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