Applying yourself
Commitment to the cause is part of the game
We get about a hundred applications a year to be a Tour Leader with Motorrad Tours. We interview about 20, invite four or five to our annual training and assessment centre, send one or two on a training tour and, on average, over the last decade, we’ve recruited one new tour leader each year. A lot of the initial applicants fall at the first hurdle when they realise we are not here to provide them with a free holiday. When asked for their CV, a riding history, current first aid and RoSPA certificates and a brief answer as to why they want to be a Tour Leader, half drop out. Many simply don’t respond, but of those that do only a select few make it to the interview stage.
A successful interview leads to three days at our annual Training and Assessment Centre. Seventy-two hours of classroom, scenarios, role play, riding and fixing bikes all while under 360° assessment from the existing team. It is a strenuous and exacting few days, and not uncommon for candidates to excuse themselves when they realise the demands of the role and what we require. But it’s proven pretty reliable in finding the right people to join the team. A successful candidate then leads a tour with an experienced Tour Leader along as a customer. They are there to mentor, coach and assess the rookie and, along with customer feedback, will be a major contributor to deciding if they clear this final hurdle and join the team.
What many candidates don’t appreciate is the sacrifices that the role requires. The upsides of being a Tour Leader are clear: travelling the world, riding a new BMW, getting paid, etc. The downside most people seem to focus on is dealing with an accident. This is part of the job but is, thankfully, a once-in-ablue-moon occurrence.
The sacrifices required of a Tour Leader are daily and range from small to large. Tour Leaders’ wants and needs are secondary to those of the customers. You ride at the pace that the people who want to ride with you are happy with, not the pace that you would enjoy. The nicest hotel room, the seat at dinner with the view, always taking the last meal, whether it was what you ordered or not are small, daily sacrifices, but even these flummox some candidates.
On a training tour in Scotland staying in a remote lodge, a customer in a single room said it had an aroma of oil. The rookie checked for extra rooms, but we had filled the lodge. His conclusion: “Nothing we can do,” which is where his mentor stepped in. “Have our room,” he offered, a twin which the rookie and Tour Leader shared. The customer gratefully accepted and they helped move his luggage. The Rookie was taken aback. “Where are we going to sleep, there is just a single bed in his room?” The answer, of course, was one in the room and the other on the floor or on a sofa in the lounge. “Oh, and don’t let the customers know this under any circumstances!” instructed the Tour Leader. This rookie didn’t join the team…
Sometimes the sacrifices can be larger, or at least potentially so. Staying in Dien Bien Phu, Vietnam, the weather took an unexpected and distinctly cold turn. Checking ahead to our hotel in Sa Pa we were told the weather was -2°C and foggy. The mountainous road into town was frozen and had been blocked for most of the day by accidents, with queues tailing back for several kilometres. None of this sounded good. We could skip Sa Pa but this would miss some stunning terraced paddy fields, and potentially the UNESCO listed Dong Van Karst Plateau, which is a highlight of the trip. After due consideration we set off the next day following our planned route. The customers were all briefed and the hotel in Dien Bien Phu forewarned that we might be back for a second night. Our lunch stop was where we left the plains and started to climb into the mountains that form the border with China. With all the customers safely at lunch, I headed off. The plan was a simple one. I would ride an hour ahead of the group. We provide everyone with route notes plus GPS routes and mapping, so many customers spend much of the time riding independently anyway.
My hour head start meant I could encounter any dicey issues before the customers. “If you see me riding back towards you, or I am upside down in a ditch, STOP!” There are no ice warnings on our route and few crash barriers between you and the cliff dropping to the valley floor. There are, however, several beautiful waterfalls that cross the road. Ice and a precipitous descent were real risks. Therefore my potential sacrifice that day would be me and/or my bike. Not that I had any intention of descending the mountain Italian Job style!
The ride was freezing and, in places, very foggy, and we arrived in Sa Pa cold and wet. The customers rolled in a short while after me with the support truck close on their tail. On arrival the hotel served something akin to hot mulled wine, a roaring fire and homemade fresh hot crisps... lovely. The next day the fog had cleared and we wandered the stunning Sa Pa valley among the terraced rice paddies chatting with the indigenous Hmong people. The sacrifice, or at least potential sacrifice, was definitely worth it.