The Stuff of Nightmares

Dennis had the sort of face that made you want to smile when you saw it. It wore a quizzical expression, probably because he peered over his spectacles at you rather than through them. I was never sure whether he looked over them because the lenses were so dirty or whether they just didn't work for him any more. In either event, they were just one of the many attributes that made Dennis a very popular human being and the complete package when it came to tour driving. When regulars booked their next tour, the first question they always asked was not what's the hotel like, but will Dennis be driving it? Dennis was the life and soul of every trip, an excellent driver, a great entertainer and a great asset to any company that he chose to work for.

The brand new Volvo executive touring coach was cruising down the Austrian Autobahn at one hundred kilometres per hour. Twelve tons of people, luggage, double glazing and engineering excellence pushing through fresh mountain air with graceful velocity. The sun shone and the forty nine passengers glowed with content at their lot. The traffic was light, the scenery was picture book and the prospects for the coming ten days were tantalising. Dennis checked his instruments and grinned, everything was just as it should be; oil pressure, temperature, air tank capacity and fuel gauge. He pulled the flexible microphone arm across and pressed the on switch....'ladies and gentlemen, as you can see through your executive windows on your executive coach, you are now entering paradise.'

His passengers giggled with delight at Dennis's comment and waited expectantly for more. The engine pitch lifted a semi-tone as the powerful power train responded to a steep autobahn incline, still comfortably maintaining the one hundred kilometre maximum permitted speed limit. Dennis re adjusted the microphone to continue his routine, looking into his interior mirror for signs of encouragement from his audience. Instantly, his split second lack of concentration was piercingly punished by an horrendous scream from the front seat passengers.....the brow of the hill had been concealing a stationary queue of traffic; the last thing they would ever see.

Dennis gasped with horror as his nervous system hurled him upright in his bed. He sat there trying to gather his senses, sweat trickling down his forehead, his whole body racked by the shock. He stretched out an arm for his glasses and picked up his wrist watch. It was 05.15 and the nightmare had struck again. The same nightmare on the same unfamiliar stretch of road. He fell back into the pillow and tried to control his breathing. At 6am he decided to get up and spend an hour preparing the coach before breakfast. Today they were visiting Saltzburg.

By the end of the week the tour highlights had been visited, bars of Mozart chocolate and cows that mooed when you turned them over had been packed away for the return journey and Dennis had endeared himself yet again to his latest brood. They had come to understand more of the man, some of the ladies especially recognising the vulnerability that hid behind the constant good humour and steamed up spectacles. To some it was clear that Dennis needed them every bit as much as they needed him, that they were feeding off each other, taking what they needed. The more clinical even secretly wondered how long anybody could give so much of himself without paying a heavy price.

Their last night in the hotel bar had been memorable for its jollity, good humour and karaoke. Nobody did a funnier Elvis than Dennis, especially after several litres of local encouragement. It had been very late before everyone finally retired and consequently the first few hours of the return journey were dulled by the lasting effects. Heads sagged and eyes drooped and the on board coffee machine and chemical toilet brought into urgent service. Dennis ate up the miles in his usual relaxed manner as the passengers gradually recovered their composure.
Nobody noticed the diversion he'd taken when their planned route had
been closed due to a rock fall and soon Dennis and his passengers
were making the most of a new stretch of autobahn which would take
them out of Austria and on towards Munich.

After a jovial lunch stop at an impressive new service area the executives continued their journey towards the border in satisfied comfort. Dennis put on his best sixties hit CD and the coach purred softly towards Deutchland.
Gradually, the flat terrain they had been driving along began to
incline and the Volvo adjusted itself automatically to meet the
challenge. A long gradient panned out in front of them and
inexplicably, as the coach climbed ever higher, so did Dennis's heart
rate. He wasn't immediately sure what was happening to him, but then
a dreadful fear began to fill his mind and a rare sense of near panic
take control of him. As they neared the blind summit instinct took
over and Dennis reigned in the Volvo's huge ego; slowly applying the
electric retarder brake and slowing the impetuous ascent. As they
cleared the brow of the summit they were startled by a huge tail back
of traffic which stretched away into the distance. Dennis slowed to a
stop and looked into his interior mirror. His audience gazed back,
glowing with admiration. 'Sometimes,' he said into his microphone,
'this job can be the stuff of nightmares.'