Here’s me, running down the hot sunny streets of San Francisco, laden with a rucksack and shopping bags, chasing a taxi that has just deserted me in a lay-by.
Rewind to earlier that week: I was in San Francisco for Figma Config, wandering towards the conference, when I first noticed these white Jaguar SUVs patrolling the streets. They had Dalek-like sensors perched on their roofs and cameras pointing in every direction. They looked like something out of a sci-fi film, and as one passed by, I saw that the driver’s seat was empty and realised what they were – functioning autonomous taxis.
That discovery instantly piqued my curiosity. In every Uber I took, I quizzed the drivers. Had they had any encounters with Waymo taxis? What did they think? Surprisingly, the general vibe was positive – no major complaints, no horror stories. At my hotel, the concierge told me most guests still didn’t trust them (“You wouldn’t get me in one if you paid me”), but some guests only used Waymo because they were clean, smelled good and were cheaper than Ubers. I now really wanted to try one out for myself.
So, on my final morning, before heading to the airport, I decided this was my chance. After grabbing some souvenirs from Pier 39, the Alcatraz tourist hotspot, I downloaded the Waymo app, linked my Google account, – Apple Pay already set up on my phone – and within seconds I was ready to go. Just as with Uber, I tapped to order a car. The app gave me a four-minute wait time and even told me that my initials, AT, would appear on the LED ring around the sensor dome as it approached.
But I happened to be waiting in a chaotic tourist lay-by filled with coaches, Ubers dropping off passengers, other Waymos picking up, and people everywhere. My car arrived in a slow-moving procession of vehicles edging up the lay-by.
I walked alongside it, phone in hand, repeatedly pressing the “unlock” button as it kept flicking between active and inactive. Every time I tried, the door wouldn’t open.
By the end of the lay-by, the Waymo gave up before I did – it simply drove off, crossed six lanes of busy traffic (including tram lines), and parked down a side street. So now it was me versus a six-lane road, arms full of shopping bags, trying to catch a robot car before the countdown expired and my ride was ultimately cancelled.
I dodged traffic, ran up the pavement and found the Waymo, but I still couldn’t get in. A passer-by told me the door handles “pop out when it’s ready”. Just as I was fumbling with them, two coaches full of tourists rolled up behind the car, their impatient driver leaning on his horn. The Waymo, apparently stressed by the situation, fled again – back across the six lanes and into the lay-by I had originally been waiting in.
This time it pulled over to wait for me right at the lay-by entrance, blocking the coaches again. I ran back across the road, and when I approached and pressed “unlock”, the handles finally popped and I got in. A crowd formed around the car within seconds, tourists snapping photos of me as if I was boarding a spaceship. Then the door shut, the horn-blasting world disappeared, and I was suddenly in cool, air-conditioned calm.
A soft voice greeted me:
“Hello from Waymo. This experience may feel futuristic, but you still need to buckle up. We’ll do the driving – don’t touch the steering wheel or the pedals.”
Just like that, everything was forgiven.
