Covert operations, untraceable cabs and legal loopholes: Liverpool’s broken taxi system

Dear members — picture this: it’s a busy Friday night on Bold Street. You’ve had a few drinks with some mates and you’re calling it early — sensible. You pull your phone out, give a local cab firm a call and a few minutes later, your ride arrives. It has Wolverhampton plates. Strange, no? In today’s piece, we unpick exactly why there are so many Wolverhampton minicabs driving around Liverpool, and dig into what that means for the average Merseyside passenger. 

Members, this is a big one: today marks the day The Post is no longer a diminutive one man band but a sprawling two — yes two! — piece jazz ensemble (not to forget our wonderful team of editors and freelancers). Today’s piece is by Abi Whistance, the first of many, and she’s set the bar high! If you’ve any juicy tips or leads for Abi to chase up, or just want to say hello, you can email her at abi@livpost.co.uk. 

Editor’s note: We hope you’re enjoying The Post. The support of our paying members has been incredible in the past few months, and we’ve made our way to the precipice of 1,100 members way ahead of schedule. That growth has allowed us to bring in Abi, which in turn will mean we can take on larger projects, including the kind of long-term investigations and scrutiny of institutions this region desperately needs. We can’t thank you enough. If you aren’t yet a paying member, do consider signing up today. A subscription (only £1.25 a week!) would give you access to the rest of this story, as well as 16 editions of The Post every month. 

I’m sat in the back of a taxi at Wolverhampton train station, offering to pay a hefty fare back to my parents’ house in Staffordshire. Normally I’d bat my eyelashes and ask my dad for a lift home instead, but this time my journey serves a purpose.

My driver, Hardev, has been driving in the city for over 30 years, but in the last decade or so the pace of business has fallen off as Wolverhampton has been pedestrianised. Some of his colleagues have started accepting work in other cities, just to make ends meet. 

Other cities like Southampton and Manchester. Other cities like Liverpool.

But are drivers really commuting that far to work in Liverpool every day? Surely it can’t be worth the petrol money?

Those questions are how I found myself sat in Starbucks on Myrtle Street this week, drinking lattes with two members of Liverpool’s Taxi Alliance group.