Read before
you ride.
Schiphol without the stress, Amsterdam for people who work here and people who visit, the cars we drive and the events we drive to — written by the people who dispatch the cars.
Schiphol is one terminal, three departure halls and a great deal of walking. Here is how it fits together, what to expect on arrival, and how to leave it behind in the shortest possible time.
Visitors from the United States ask our dispatch desk the same handful of questions — about tipping, taxes, the word “limousine”, and whether anyone will understand them on the phone. Here are the answers, from the people who drive the cars.
A lie-flat seat from Dubai, Doha or New York ends at a jet bridge on one of Schiphol’s non-Schengen piers. What happens between that bridge and the car decides whether the journey stays premium. Here is how it goes, seen from our side of the arrivals doors.
Every booking comes with a private ride page. Here is what it shows from the moment you confirm to the moment you are dropped off, what each status means, and how to hand the link to the person who is actually travelling.
The Netherlands has a second airport worth knowing about, and it sits on the doorstep of the country’s technology industry. A practical guide to EIN, its single terminal and the drives that follow.
Three of the country’s great collections stand on one square, the rest are scattered along the canals and across the IJ. Here is how the art city fits together, and how a car turns four addresses into one unhurried day.
Ranks, meters, apps and pre-booked chauffeurs all exist side by side in Amsterdam, and each is right for a different moment. Our chauffeurs share the roads with all of them; here is the honest version of how they compare.
Seven seats, seven bags and a door you walk through rather than fold into. From the chauffeur’s seat, here is what the V-Class actually carries, who it suits, and the moments when a second car is the better plan.
For a few weeks each spring the flattest part of the Netherlands turns into stripes of colour, and the roads around Lisse fill with people trying to see them. A car that waits changes the shape of that day entirely.
Nobody is promoted for booking a car well, and everybody hears about it when one goes wrong. This is how ground transport in Amsterdam looks from the booker’s desk — consolidation, guest bookings, invoicing, roadshow days and knowing where your traveller actually is.
Every class but one now has electric cars in it — Mercedes EQE, EQS and EQV, BMW i5 and i7. Here is what that means once the door closes: the silence, the smoothness, the charging you never see, and the days when we still send a car with an engine.
People assume the job is driving. Driving is the part most applicants already have. The rest — the minute you arrive, the things you do not say, the way a suit sits at six in the morning — is the job, and this is what it looks like from the inside.
A taxi and a chauffeur both put you in a car with a driver, and the difference is not the badge on the bonnet. It is when the price is decided, who is standing there when you arrive, and how much of the ride was planned in advance.
RTM is small, and that is its entire argument. A guide to the terminal, the arrivals door, the business aviation side and the drive times to the cities it serves.
A chauffeur price is not a mystery and it is not a meter. There are four ways the number is built, one surcharge that can change it, and nothing else. This is all of it, with the arithmetic shown.
Our chauffeurs spend a good many mornings at clubhouse doors with four bags and four people who are about to do business. These are the six courses they drive to most, and how the day works when someone else holds the keys.
The Netherlands is small enough that almost everything worth seeing is a morning away from Amsterdam. These are the runs our chauffeurs know best, with the travel times we actually plan for.
A child seat is the one thing on a booking form that cannot be improvised at the kerb. Here is how restraints work in the Netherlands, which of our cars take which seat, and how to plan a Schiphol arrival around a toddler who has not slept.
If you have only ever used a taxi rank or an app, a chauffeur booking works differently from the first message onwards. Here is the whole sequence, including the parts people are too polite to ask about.
Amsterdam keeps its offices well away from its postcards. A working week here is spent on the southern ring, in a conference hall on the Europaplein or in a converted timber dock on the IJ — and the driving between them is the part nobody plans for.
Ask anyone in this trade to picture a chauffeur car and they picture the same one. Here is what the S-Class actually does for the person sitting behind the driver — and the two occasions when we send something else.
A private terminal, a membership for the border, a wall of lounges and a handful of priority lanes. Each is sold by somebody different, each solves a different ten minutes, and none of them drives you into Amsterdam. Here is the map.
The rail link south is genuinely good, and we say so. But a timetable measures a narrower thing than your day. Here is the comparison as our chauffeurs see it, with the minutes at both ends put back in.
A booking form takes a minute to fill in. The work it starts runs from that minute until the car door closes behind you. Here is the part of the ride you never see — dispatch, assignment, tracking and the messages in between.