The television screen shows a taxi trying to ease its way through Belgrade's gridlocked streets at midmorning.

A sunset trip along the waterfront could be quite romantic if it wasn't for the occasional blaring horns of taxis and microbuses trying to get past.

A taxi, trying to avoid the chaos, hit the crash barrier and catapulted over the edge, smashing into an upstairs window of someone's house.

A taxi, trying to pull up in front of the huge arched entrance, was stalled by a truck that swung in from a pillar of the elevated.

One must picture 2,000 taxis trying to unload frantic visitors for shows that have to go off precisely on time because of the models' schedules.

My taxi, trying to reach its destination before curfew, cut through a poor neighborhood of Cairo.

Even from a distance, in a moving taxi, trying to look askance with nonchalance, they were able to see that his face was so fat it made his eyes into squinting, smiling slits.