The Driver with the Sign

There’s always a moment when you wonder whether or not the driver with the sign will be standing there waiting for you, so when he is, there is always a sense of relief. Funny really because if I was on my own, I’d be more than capable of finding my way to my hotel. But when the trip is organised by someone else, I go on to autopilot and just expect things to be done for me. I have to admit on this trip I didn’t even know the name of the hotel I was staying in. I just knew what time to be on the plane and that someone would pick me up at the other end.

And there was my name in bold letters on a white board with a female driver in a resplendent uniform waiting for me. If you’d thought I’d been sexist saying he earlier, it was because I must have done 50-60 trips like this and never has my driver been a woman. But this one was.

We walked to the car exchanging pleasantries, yes the flight was comfortable, yes the weather is cold etc etc.  I was a bit taken aback when I saw the limo waiting for me. 50 trips, never a woman and never a limo but hey there’s always the first and it’s about time I got the recognition I deserved.

The drive to the town was like any other drive from any other airport, except I was reclining in the most comfortable car I’d ever ridden in. Snowflakes drifted to earth from the grey sky above but to say it was snowing would be exaggerating.  We pulled up outside the Hilton Hotel.

‘Here we are.’ The driver announced.

Again I was a little surprised, this was not the normal treatment I got. I usually stay in good hotels yes, but the Hilton? Really.

I approached reception a little nervously, this seemed wrong, but the receptionist smiled and confirmed my room and the porter led the way up to the penthouse suite. Or should I say, the penthouse, SWEET.

I was in luxury, the room was bigger than my apartment back home, three rooms, two toilets, a bath separate from the shower, a free mini bar, a Nespresso machine and more light switches than I could count. The bed felt like lying on a cloud, I sank in to it and closed my eyes, gosh sleep would soon be here. But no, I wanted to have a shower and try the coffee, sleep could wait.

I stared out of the window in the luxurious dressing gown still tingling from the shower. I was drinking my second silky coffee and watching the world feeling just a little like George Clooney. I felt like a king - a king who was about to be dethroned.

The knock on the door was not a polite 5 star guest rat-a-tat-tat but an angry you don’t belong here hammer. I opened it to see a burly security guard and what turned out to be the hotel manager, both standing there looking none to pleased.

‘Get dressed and come with us please.’ The manager said.

‘What’s going on?’ I replied.

‘Just do it.’ He said, he didn’t look like he’d take a no for an answer, so I just did it.

We walked in silence along the corridor to the lifts, the silence continued as we descended into the bowels of the hotel, We went into a room that looked like a police interview room. The security guard stood by the door looking menacing. I’m sure his mother loved him but I can’t think for the life of me why?  The manager signalled to me to sit down. I sat down.

‘What’s your name?’ He said.

‘Gareth Davies’ I replied.

‘Your real name?’ He looked at me angrily. I didn’t know what to say.

‘Gareth Davies.’ I repeated, what else could I say?

‘Stop playing games mister.’ The manager said, a glint of violence in his eye. ‘Tell me your real name.’

I was beginning to wonder what they put in the Nespresso, beginning to worry for George Clooney’s well being.

‘I’m not playing games I said, ‘My name is Gareth Davies.’

‘Well, if you are Gareth Davies how come I have a very angry man in my office claiming an imposter has taken his car and checked into his hotel room.’

‘How do you know he’s not the imposter?’ I said brazenly, wondering where the braveness came from.

‘He showed me his booking confirmation, passport and credit card.’ The manager said.

‘Oh’ I said. This was all falling into place now, of course there is more than one Gareth Davies in this world, but I never expected that one would fly to the same airport on the same day at the same time as me. I thought the limo and Hilton were too good to be true and they were.