It’s 9 a.m. on a Friday, and I find myself in a mirrored suite on the 31st floor of Wynn Encore Las Vegas, watching an Englishman named Andi McCann move gracefully across the carpet.

“It’s similar to dancing; when the head moves, the body follows,” he says, turning his torso like a matador towards the November sun streaming through the large windows. “Make it a fluid motion; it’s theatre!”

This isn’t an audition for Cirque du Soleil: McCann is teaching me the art of opening a door. As a driving coach for Rolls-Royce Motor Cars since 2005 and its exclusive trainer since 2012, McCann trains chauffeurs serving affluent clients in locations from Texas to Taipei and Saudi Arabia to Singapore.

They master the proper, Rolls-Royce-approved techniques for loading luggage, handling umbrellas, chilling champagne, navigating security issues, and yes, even opening doors.

“Opening a Rolls-Royce door should happen smoothly and in a single motion,” McCann states, his refined accent as polished as his crisp white shirt. “It’s all about the legs and arms.”

As companies like BMW AG and Mercedes-Benz Group AG strive towards full autonomous driving, and Elon Musk promotes driverless technology via his robo-taxis, McCann operates in a uniquely different realm.

He distinguishes himself from two dominant philosophical camps in the automotive world: the full-self-driving proponents led by Musk’s Tesla Inc, envisioning cars as automated mobility pods.

Read: Rolls-Royce set to cut 2,500 jobs as CEO extends efficiency push [Oct 2023]

Conversely, there are those like Porsche AG, who champion full engagement in front-seat driving, pledging never to forsake the manual gearbox that enhances the thrill of their 911 sports cars.

Rolls-Royce embodies a third philosophy, recognizing that a significant portion of its clientele will prefer the back seat over the front.

Of the roughly 6,000 vehicles the company delivers globally each year, about 20% are purchased by owners who hire chauffeurs. This figure rises further among buyers of the $575,000 Phantom extended wheelbase sedan. McCann’s objective is to enrich their experience during the ride, made possible by a skilled driver.

“We create the world’s finest motorcars,” he asserts. “The driver is the weak link.”

Training drivers may seem old-fashioned, but it’s increasingly relevant. Part-time chauffeuring is on the rise globally, especially in Asia, where new wealth in China and Korea has fueled Rolls-Royce’s year-on-year growth in 2023, and in the Middle East, where custom commissions have reached record levels in both quantity and value, as detailed in the company’s latest annual report.

It’s not just the elite clientele of Rolls-Royce that is behind the wheel. On October 28, luxury chauffeuring company Blacklane GmbH secured €60 million ($65 million) in funding from investors, including a subsidiary of Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund. This Berlin-based organization enables clients to connect with professional drivers through a mobile app, website, or hotline, worldwide.

The appeal of a chauffeur lies in the personalized attention and care they provide — a certain warmth and intuitive understanding that no sophisticated robot could replicate.

Having a private driver goes beyond mere transportation from point A to point B; it enhances the entire experience during the journey.

McCann likens a chauffeur to both a traveling concierge and a time-saving asset that enhances daily efficiency.

Wealthy individuals who demand the finest chef, massage therapist, and bodyguard also value the service of one of McCann’s protégés; for them, the ultimate in automotive luxury is being driven by a human. I came to Vegas to see if I could prove my worth.

The day commenced with a historical overview. Standing by a screen, McCann displays faded images of elegant coaches; one features TE Lawrence — Lawrence of Arabia — with his Silver Ghost, circa 1916.

Initially, he explains, chauffeurs didn’t actually drive cars; they operated trains. The term originates from the French chauffer — “to heat,” relating to the stoker who managed the fires on steam engines.

As horseless carriages became popular in the early 20th century, owners from Bristol to Bombay anticipated their stable staff and local station workers to drive these new vehicles. Consequently, Rolls-Royce established academies where clients could send their stable hands and valets to learn everything from vehicle maintenance and operation to proper etiquette, determining where the lady of the house should sit.

Many of those lessons are still applicable today.

“Striving for perfection is essential to luxury; everything you do must be sharp, effortless, professional, and safe,” McCann tells our class of seven, who are set to spend two hours learning the fundamentals before testing our driving skills at Valley of Fire State Park. This session is a condensed version of the exclusive courses Rolls-Royce offers to its VIPs; fees are not disclosed publicly.

“If you’re on time, you’re already late,” McCann informs us. Another of his guiding principles: “While there can be ‘what ifs,’ there should be no excuses.”

I take notes as the day progresses. McCann outlines several protocols: luggage should be lifted, not rolled, to prevent tracking dirt; bags must be stowed before passengers board to mitigate theft risks. A chauffeur needs to be meticulously aware of the rear-view mirror, positioned to avoid direct eye contact with passengers (this is for safety and discretion).

And this surprising rule: Never ask about your passengers’ flight.

“That’s the worst thing you can ask anyone,” McCann responds to my quizzical expression. “When was the last time you left a metal tube saying, ‘I had a fantastic time’? By asking, you’re essentially encouraging the client to stretch the truth.”

He keeps going, and I maintain my notes. Focus on personalized touches, such as the client’s water preference (sparkling or still? Pellegrino or Perrier?); place bottles in the door rather than the cup holder to leave room for the client’s own drink. Remember the names of cherished pets. Level the air vents and adjust headrests. Ensure that music, if played, and climate conditions are to the client’s liking.

“Our refrigerators are set to two temperatures, six and 11 degrees Celsius, one for vintage champagne and one for non-vintage,” he elaborates. “Know the expected arrival time and adjust accordingly. If it’s evening, they’re likely to prefer vintage, so that temperature should be warmer.”

Driving is, of course, part of the job. But I hadn’t realized that proficient driving starts with proper seating. I’ve never focused as much on limb placement as I do when I slide into an emerald green Cullinan parked outside the Wynn. McCann instructs: arms extended and shoulders relaxed, hands positioned at 9- and 3-o’clock, thighs parallel to the ground, pelvis uncurled. My toes gently touch the pedals.

This isn’t how I typically approach getting into my own Rolls-Royce, a vintage 1975 Silver Shadow. I suddenly realize I’ve been treating my car as if I’m participating in an off-road endurance rally, all late-braking and whiplash.

Technically, I remind myself, that might be acceptable, considering Lawrence likely drove his Rolls-Royces hard during his storied desert adventures. But today is different, and I don’t wish to be perceived this way by McCann. Cringe. A major mindset adjustment is necessary.

“Any tension in your body will transfer to the car,” he cautions. At that moment, I feel so tense that beads of sweat are forming down my spine. Apparently, I’ve been completely misguided in my own RR, and it’s a wonder I haven’t had an accident or developed debilitating sciatica in the process.

As we weave through the outskirts of Vegas, he whispers in my ear that I must pass the Whiskey, Gin & Tonic, Champagne Test. I need to brake delicately enough that a champagne coupe on the car’s hood stays spill-free. He suggests starting with whiskey in a conventional glass, then transitioning to gin, and finally onto bubbly. While this feels theoretical at this moment, I am eager to try this with my Shadow upon returning home.

I envision success: Gently ease onto the brakes with the grace of a ballerina; focus like a surgeon. Maintain the fizz in the glass. Breeeatheee.

“Don’t let poor driving affect your good driving!” McCann jolts me from my daydream, reminding me to maintain a greater distance from the Prius ahead.

As we venture beyond Vegas, we encounter stretches adorned with red mountains and Joshua trees. I can feel my grip on the steering wheel loosening and my balance improving as we navigate curves.

Finally, I spot our lunch destination where we’ll reunite with the class. Undeterred, McCann continues coaching: Never begin or end a journey in reverse. Unload passengers first, then back up if required, ensuring that the Spirit of Ecstasy remains facing forward. It’s a sign of respect for Eleanor Thornton, the real-life inspiration for the iconic ornament that has adorned cars carrying monarchs and celebrities since 1904. “You could be asked to leave an event for parking her against the wall,” he warns. I sense he’s not joking.

We exit the vehicle, and McCann produces a lint roller, listing essential tools for chauffeurs: a pocket knife, microfiber cloths, alkaline water, a USB filled with music…

I’m beginning to understand that, for passengers, luxury embodies absence — specifically, the absence of dirt, disturbance, annoyance, and disarray. A skilled driver shields you from such concerns, allowing you to embrace the day ahead; under their guidance, the car becomes a sanctuary.

Moreover, the craft of chauffeuring resonates with a deeper concept, celebrating the artisans who create order and beauty from raw materials. It’s akin to Martha Stewart with her manicured garden; Lucien Freud with his oil paintings; the $4,400 Loro Piana cashmere throw. Such aspirational spaces and items stem from humble crafts — gardening, painting, weaving — meticulously executed and thus highly valued.

McCann demonstrated that chauffeuring honors our human connections and the dignity inherent in perfecting an age-old trade. It feels like a counterargument to a cold, automated future. I was resolute in refining my driving skills to earn my place among such distinguished company.

Before leaving Las Vegas the next morning, I swing by the valet desk to retrieve a package. Inside is a solitary white glove adorned with a gold RR pin, elegantly framed in black and signed by McCann — the unmistakable sign that I have made the cut! I’m ecstatic, albeit a bit surprised.

Once back in LA, I test my newfound knowledge by grabbing an authentic champagne coupe from my kitchen and placing it on the hood of my Rolls-Royce, parked quietly behind my home… If I’m honest, I’m still not fully meeting McCann’s rigorous standards yet. But I’m dedicated to improving.

© 2024 Bloomberg

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