Heraklion is waking into a 48-hour taxi blackout, as drivers declare a strike on December 2 and 3. The morning begins with a long motorized procession rolling out from the airport — horns, banners, diesel, complaint sheets flapping in the wind — heading straight into the city center to deposit demands and block half the city just to make sure nobody can ignore them.
During these two days, taxis remain off the streets except for emergency medical transport and a few school routes. Everyone else is left improvising: walking, cramming into buses, calling friends, or dragging suitcases across sidewalks that were not designed for dragging anything.
Taxi owners insist their profession is being pushed toward extinction. They blame a government that reacts only when cornered, inspections that might as well be fairy tales, contradictory legislation that nobody can interpret, and the explosion of pirate I.X. vehicles stealing work openly, aggressively, and without the slightest fear of consequences. And yes — this part is true. The illegal transfer market is thriving, growing like mold in humidity, functioning in plain sight while the state observes the situation with the enthusiasm of a sleeping cat.
But baby — and here is where Argophilia earns its reputation — justice goes both ways. If we are going to talk about truth, we are going to talk about all of it.
Taxi drivers speak passionately about the need for “fleet modernization,” as if Heraklion were full of rusted tin cans wheezing their way up 25th of August Street. But anyone who has ever stepped outside can see what the fleet actually is. Mercedes E-Class, Audi A6, Skoda Superb, Volkswagen Passat, the occasional BMW — a small parade of mid-to-upper-class sedans that many Cretans could not dream of affording even used.
- Mercedes E-Class
- Audi A6
- Skoda Superb
- Volkswagen Passat
- A sprinkle of BMWs for flair
This is already a luxury fleet.
Most Cretan households cannot afford these cars even second-hand.
So when drivers say they need to “modernize,” we have to ask:
Modernize into what, exactly?
A Rolls-Royce?
A Bentley?
Are we aiming for a Maybach line-up at the airport?
Hybrids?
Please.
Passengers are not sitting in the back longing for a Prius.
Nobody has ever entered a taxi in Heraklion and whispered, “If only this were a Prius.” This is not about environmental virtue; it is about survival — a system of taxation, debt, and economic pressure that squeezes small professionals until they rattle. If the unions said plainly, “We can’t carry the financial load anymore,” everyone would understand. But hiding behind green-transition keywords only adds another layer of absurdity.
None of this erases their suffering. The profession has been in slow collapse since 2010. Drivers drown in EFKA debts, tax burdens, bank refusals, seasonal instability, and a legislative environment that seems to change direction every time the wind shifts. Many drivers genuinely fear losing their homes. The pain is real, and the fight is not fabricated.
But—and this is the piece of truth that never appears in their announcements—there is a parallel reality on the streets of Heraklion, and the public sees it daily. Double-parking in every imaginable location, from bakery doors to roundabouts. Parking in handicap spaces because “it’s just one minute.” Driving the wrong way down one-way streets with the confidence of a man who believes the laws of physics apply only to others. Stopping in the middle of the road to smoke, chat, adjust paperwork, or simply contemplate life. Turning sidewalks, pedestrian crossings, and intersections into spontaneous taxi stations. Treating traffic lights as mood indicators rather than rules.
These habits are not crimes against humanity. But they erode trust. And trust, once gone, is expensive to rebuild.
Then there is the matter that truly damages their reputation: overcharging. Not theoretical, not anecdotal — real. Too real. A short ride that should cost six euros becomes twelve, “because traffic,” “because luggage,” or “because I decided.” My own son was overcharged. If this happens to local children, imagine tourists arriving with zero understanding of local rates. Overcharging is not survival — it is self-sabotage, and it is one of the reasons pirate taxis flourish. People run toward predictability when official channels feel unpredictable.
This is not disrespect. This is accountability. A profession cannot demand strict enforcement against illegal operators while bending the rules whenever convenient. You cannot shout “respect the law” while treating the road like your personal chessboard.
Meanwhile, the illegal taxis thrive for simple reasons: people love clear pricing, predictability, and the absence of drama. Uber did not destroy taxi industries worldwide; taxi industries destroyed themselves by refusing to modernize the service rather than the vehicle. People do not care what engine is under the hood — they care whether the fare will double by the time they reach the port. Also, we don’t have Uber in Crete.
Today, the city feels the strike immediately. Tourists drag luggage across cracked pavement. Locals cram into buses they have not used in a decade. Streets clog as the taxi procession turns major roads into a parking lot with banners. The city improvises transportation because taxis are the backbone of mobility — until they vanish.
Taxi drivers deserve many things: protection from illegal competitors, consistent inspections, rational taxes, legislative clarity, and financial structures that do not crush them. But the public deserves something too: fair pricing, traffic-law obedience, professionalism, transparency, and a service that does not depend on the mood of the day.
And then comes the plot twist — the part that turns the whole situation into tragicomedy.
Even during the strike, if you call certain taxis, they still come.
We tested it. We called Knossos Taxi — casually, without mentioning the strike — and the driver accepted the fare instantly, without hesitation, without a question. We cancelled, politely, with the classic “Ah, wait, my husband just came home,” but the point was proven.
If a strike collapses the moment the phone rings, why should anyone take it seriously?
If the profession does not respect its own protest, why should the public treat it as sacred?
Heraklion needs taxis. Taxi drivers need justice.
But justice goes both ways. And so does responsibility.
You heard it from Argophilia — where we tell the truth, no matter how difficult, inconvenient, or absurd it may be.
