Matty J was actually the second person I already knew on that training trip. Back in 2005 when I travelled around I came across Laura a few times - she was the person travelling back from Pamplona with Tash in the Greatest Love Story Never Told. She'd emailed me in early 2006 to say she'd also been accepted, which had gone a long way to alleviating any stress I had about the upcoming training. Matty had been a driver back in 2005 but after a change in policy could no longer drive. Given his natural charisma they'd asked him if he'd like to come back as a guide, something that we were all glad he'd done. Over the coming month Matty would speak so highly of the returning drivers and guides that you couldn't wait to meet them out on the road.
While a driver in 2005 Matty had provided one of those low-grade highlights that sticks in the memory. Coming into Nice from La Spezia I'd spent a bit of time down the front of the coach chatting to Matty and the guide. Matty kept going on about this great bridge in Genoa. Watch out for the bridge, he said. You gotta see this bridge.
Naturally I kept an eye out for this you-beaut bridge, making sure I stayed awake as the distances to Genoa counted down. Soon enough we saw Genoa to our left as we skirted around the edge of town - hang on a minute, we're now in town and where was this bridge? I asked Matty about it in Nice later that night and it turned out he'd missed the turn, left the autostrada, had to find somewhere to turn around then finally got back on the bridge, which to be fair was a very nice bridge.
Back in London and there were 13 of us on that first day, 12 on the second - and that's the way it stayed until the very end. After the second classroom day we had a spare day to finalise our preparations for the actual trip around Europe, so naturally a few of us decided to have a few at the St Christopher's bar. During the meal breaks Matty had insisted that everyone needed to have a nickname by the end of the training trip. Had to be done. Part of the gig.
Sitting at the bar at St Christopher's bandying names about Kellie (who incidentally never got a nickname outside of "Kel") looked across the table, pointed her finger and said:
"I have a nickname for YOU. You're Frodo."
That was it. Matty picked up the ball and ran with it, to the extent that people I'd worked with for a number of years had to think hard if they ever had reason to use my real name.
A COUPLE of days later we all met at head office to begin our trip through Europe. While it sounds like a great trip - four weeks around Europe with a crew that would turn out to be great mates - there really wasn't a lot of fun involved. We were up and on the
Each day at least one guide was deemed "Guide of the Day". The idea was that the guides would run the day the same way they would on the road. You had to be at the pick-up place 30 minutes before departure, clean-shaven, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Those of us who'd travelled with the company were up first, which is how I ended up being Guide of the Day for the Amsterdam-Berlin leg.
It started off pretty well - I joined the crew (which now included the trainee drivers) down at the breakfast room of the Hans Brinker, then decided I'd use the bathroom and clean my teeth to get rid of the egg smell from a couple of hard-boiled eggs at breakfast. Unfortunately my timing wasn't the greatest, as I only realised after sitting down to ponder life, the universe and everything that I realised it was already 0755 and that I should already be out the front collecting everyone's keys and guiding them to the coach.
When I got out of the bathroom the Boss was waiting for me - she was not a happy camper and seeing me with a toiletries bag probably didn't help my cause. I copped an earful for not being at the pick-up at the correct time and that while she had some of the keys she didn't know where all the others were. About the only thing that saved me was that I'd collected most of the keys at breakfast and handed them over straight away.
So on my big day in charge I'm already in trouble. I manage to get through my Germany spiel at the border, but feel a little more confident as we approach the final service stop, a former East/West German border post called Marienborn. I'd been lucky enough to have Kim as my guide when I'd done this talk the year before and she really set the scene for us as we approached the remnants of the Iron Curtain across Europe. I used my memory of that talk, a little bit of research, a little bit of previous knowledge and just a hint of journalistic license, I managed to give a spiel that not only finished at the exact moment we'd pulled into the services, but that also drew a round of applause from the Boss. It was the confidence boost I'd needed - all of a sudden the morning's dramas seemed a lifetime ago.
Time off the coach was fast-paced. We only visited many of our day stops for a couple of hours - in that time you had to find out information about the hostel, find the nearest facilities (internet cafe, laundromat, supermarket, ATM etc), check out the sights, get back on the coach, share the information then get ready to be called up for a spiel. Service stops were similarly-paced: go in, find out where the toilets were and how much they cost; what food was available and any quirky things about how to order it; and anything else to watch out for (like Old Mate grabbing your bags). It was only in the overnight stops that we had the chance to really take in our surrounds, which is where most of my favourite memories of the training trip come from. I can remember sitting down with Louise at the Hotel Sacher in Vienna chowing down on a Sachertorte on a glorious spring day; a few days later I was running through Munich's English Gardens, trying to stay warm in the middle of a snowstorm that I was definitely not prepared for. Probably the best part of the trip though was being taken up the Jungfraujoch - the bosses were realistic enough to realise that most of us wouldn't spent $150 or so to take one of the world's great train rides 3571m up, so they paid for us to go on our free day in Lauterbrunnen.
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| Top of the Joch. |
The problem with such a rushed preparation - especially at the day stops - was that you didn't get to see all the major sights. During training I didn't make it into the centres of Dresden, Bern, Avignon or Tours; of those during my guiding career I only ever made it into Tours and that for a very short time before gastro struck and I had to rush back to the hotel. Avignon was my own fault though - I was Guide of the Day again and rather than send myself out to the Palace of the Popes or the Pont Saint-Bénézet I decided the small village of Villeneuve would be my research topic. Very nice, very pretty, but useless for people who come to Avignon to visit Avignon.
At least twice during the training we were taken out specifically to get drunk. While this sounds pretty sweet, the rationale behind this was to see both how we'd react while drunk, as well as how we'd pull up the next day. It was during the first of these nights that John became Timberlake (mostly shortened to Timbers) - with his glasses off and hoodie up, he busted out a few dance moves in an Amsterdam nightclub that were the envy of someone somewhere.
After four weeks of pretty hard slog we headed back to London. Between Paris and Calais we had to complete our final tests - 200 questions, pass mark 100, fail and the last four weeks were a waste. After re-boarding the coach in Dover we were given the order to come down to the Boss, get our results and (hopefully) get out first sequences. I was last on the list, so tried to get a couple of hours kip before going down. I couldn't, partially because my dorm mates were making lots of noise, partially because I was nervous as hell, but mostly because Matty had given me an Irn-Bru to drink and that stuff is like Red Bull for Scots.
I eventually gave up and headed downstairs to join those already celebrating. While down there Laura came up to me and said we'd tied for first on the test and that she was hoping to beat me (all friendly banter). My look of relief must have been pretty strong because she then realised I hadn't been given my results! When it was finally my turn to go down the Boss confirmed I'd finished equal first, and that I'd be working the very first day of the season, taking one of two coaches travelling between London and Paris.
Holy shit! The first coach!
With my results done we went down to a small private area for what proved to be the very last time we were all together, a point the Boss mad to us before we started getting hammered. She was right - two were sacked during the season, while one didn't even make it to her first assignment in what was the only ever recorded case of someone not being happy with being sent to Greece to work.
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| The crew. |
