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Johan Kruseman
We ordered a tuk-tuk for 1,300. When it arrived, the driver immediately informed us that the road was closed because of rain, which meant a major detour and, unfortunately, a doubling of the price.
Having taken that exact road the day before — easily one of the best roads in Sri Lanka — I suggested that it might still be passable. After a brief pause, we decided to try anyway.
During the ride, he kept reminding us that we were entering the jungle, that there had been heavy rainfall, and that this was all very risky. Strangely enough, we didn’t encounter a single puddle. No mud, no fallen trees, not even a damp leaf.
As we got closer to the destination, he suddenly put on a look of complete, performed astonishment — the kind that would earn a cum laude diploma from a drama academy.
“Oh! There are even tuk-tuks coming our way. We must have been very lucky.”
At the end of the ride, I thanked him, smiled, and gently mentioned that it wasn’t very nice to abuse the trust of travelers for a bit of extra money. He happily agreed — and then cheerfully asked for a five-star review.
A lesson in opportunism at the highest level.
