After decades of travel, I still fell for a taxi scam that cost me $1500

Sue Wallace

April 24, 2026 — 5:00am

No doubt, somewhere in Santiago, Chile, a slick conman is still dining out on how two jet-lagged Australians paid nearly a million pesos ($1500) for a lift from the airport. It should have been $40.

Embarrassing? Yes. After all, we’re both seasoned travellers, each with five decades of international travel racked up, but we still got stung. Yes, we should have known better.

We let our guard down. We’d come straight from celebrating my husband’s milestone birthday, by train from Albury to Melbourne, then jumped on the plane the next day. Arriving at Santiago’s frenetic Arturo Merino Benítez International Airport, we battled jostling crowds, screaming children and wayward luggage trolleys with minds of their own.

Dodgy Wi-Fi meant plans for an Uber ride were scrapped – our first mistake. Instead, we went to an “official” taxi office and received two white tickets, a reasonable quote and instructions to go to gate three. Payment would be on hotel arrival. In hindsight, maybe those white tickets were code for “here come a couple of suckers”.

Pushing two suitcases loaded with cold-weather gear for an Antarctic cruise, summer clothes for hiking in the Atacama Desert and Patagonia, plus carry-ons, we were eager to get to our accommodation. Too eager.

“This way, this way,” yells an “official” driver with smouldering Latino looks, flashing his credentials and quoting the same price in a private van. So we follow him to a sleek Mercedes with a driver, and he hops in too. Mr Smoothie – let’s call him that for now – points out landmarks and tells us about Santiago. Laughing and joking, it’s a jolly atmosphere.

On arrival, my husband produces a credit card and Mr Smoothie swipes it on a portable machine, then says it isn’t working. He tries again. Another credit card is handed over and it works. My husband asks for receipts. From there it goes rapidly downhill. He tries to take a photo of the official’s lanyard, then threatens to call the police, as I panic kerbside.

Mr Scammer – a suitable name change – shoves my husband out of the car and we realise we have been scammed as they take off at high speed. There are three amounts together totalling $1500 on the credit cards.

Ever tried to contact your bank at 2am in Australia? Not easy. And, yes, we had registered our overseas travel. Fill in a form, get a police report and contact your insurer was the varied advice. It’s complicated, as the card was used by us, at the hotel, while in our possession – not lost or stolen, plus a fake website and no receipts. It’s still ongoing.

We were advised not to go to the police, which would take many hours, and we had an early morning flight the next day. It seems scams at Santiago airport are common with warnings online, which we should have checked to avoid such a saga.

My husband was last scammed 50 years ago. He was wearing a heavy tweed suit purchased at Harrods to impress his family of wool growers. On a milk-run flight back to Australia, he bought a coffee at Athens airport. It wasn’t until he was back on the plane, tweed suit intact, that he calculated that he had paid $35 in drachma.

He’s been on the lookout for that cafe owner when visiting Athens since. But no more. It’s that South American conman he’ll be searching for when he next sets foot in Santiago.