Lounge Singer Van Morrison

If you need anything . . be my guest
THE phone rings and a guest wants to know where he can grab a bite to eat. It has to be Italian . . . but, you know, not too Italian.

Seconds later, an e-mail arrives and the secretary to the businessman who is due to stay in the hotel next month wants an itinerary planned for his family. Can Edinburgh Castle be opened privately just for them - and trips to the theatre have to include the best seats in the house.

The phone rings again and England rugby coach Andy Robinson's wife needs a car to pick her up from the airport. Then, before you can pause for breath, a member of the England rugby team's entourage comes to the desk to ask where the players can go for an undisturbed walk before they face Scotland at Murrayfield.

The requests are endless and it's enough to have even the most organised professional buckling under the pressure. But, for the slick concierge team at the Balmoral Hotel, it all seems to be in a day's work.

These are the guys who can get you the tickets you can't buy, the seats others would kill for, the presents you can't find or couldn't think of, the table you can't reserve. And thanks to the new BBC series, Hotel Babylon - which portrays the indulgent world of a high-class hotel - they are enjoying a much higher profile.

Veteran head concierge Joseph Winders, who's been looking after guests for 20 years,

said: "We get inundated with restaurant requests and ticket requests, as we're the font of knowledge of Edinburgh, as well as knowing our hotel inside out.

"Regular guests will bypass reservations and come direct through me.

"Guests come to us to plan holidays, plan their itinerary. We're travel agents, personal shoppers, confidants."

There is a team of 20 in the Balmoral concierge department working 12-hour shifts, five days a week and no two days are ever the same.

When George Clooney stayed last year, he asked Joseph where he could sit and have a quiet pint in a "real traditional Scottish pub". Later that day he drank at the Abbotsford in Rose Street.

When Julia Roberts visited she wanted a mini kilt and so Joseph set up a private fitting. Beyonce Knowles, Pink, Kylie Minogue, Tom Jones, Eddie Izzard, Graham Norton and Julian Clary have all called upon the concierges' expertise. And when the Rolling Stones stayed Joseph made sure Mick Jagger had a bike machine and treadmill in his suite.

Joseph, who only admits to being fortysomething, says: "I enjoy the role of the concierge - you really are all things to all men. You're the first and last point of contact and being an ambassador for the hotel is great.

"We all just really love dealing with people, and seeing their faces light up when they think they've asked the impossible and we've made it the achievable.

"Guests always ask for tickets to a sold-out concert or event. Any good concierge has contacts he can call upon."

In the past, Joseph has had to organise last-minute Valentine's Day dinner reservations to top restaurants, buy romantic gifts for unsuspecting wives and even organise a private charter plane so a husband celebrating his 40th birthday could live out his dream of joining the Mile High Club.

"There are some risque requests I couldn't repeat," he admits. "In a hotel we like to say we never say no, but sometimes we have to."

The key to the job, I am told, is to make sure things are done for the guests. Plan their trip, book their flight tickets, arrange a hair cut, send flowers, order a limousine . . . the list is endless. "Everything is possible," says Joseph.

And so my shift starts with helping to produce six tickets for Saturday's sold-out rugby international. But, a couple of phone calls to ticket touts desperate to flog the few remaining tickets and a haggling session on prices the tickets were procured and the guests delighted.

The phone never stops ringing. Guest after guest rings for suggestions on how to spend their day, what shops to visit, which excursions to go on, what restaurants to eat at. Taxis are ordered, reservations are made. All the big restaurants, shops and taxi companies are on speed redial. When guests aren't coming to pre-book taxis to dinner, the theatre or the airport, the concierge desk turns into an information desk providing directions to the sights of the Capital, from Harvey Nichols to the Castle.

My head is spinning with the sheer volume of work to be done and the lack of time to do it in, but there is no time for a quiet moment. Even when the desk is free and the phone's not ringing, there's work to be done.

The e-mail basket is jammed with requests from future guests wanting added extras such as champagne and canapes on the day of arrival, hair appointments booked and opera tickets. Some regular guests even request Joseph and his team turn into travel agents and book their flights, transfers, meals and accommodation.

There's a 24-hour turnaround time on e-mails and, in between the team's other jobs, they have to respond to requests as soon as possible.

I try out one but am soon overwhelmed. The guest wants me to plan an itinerary for a long weekend, from breakfast at 9.15am every morning through to drinks after dinner in the evening. And she wants a response in a couple of hours. I give up and leave it to the professionals.

It's all thirsty work and after two hours I am desperate for a drink and a sit-down to recharge the batteries. But the concierge team soldiers on. And after the manic check-out period around noon comes the even busier check-in period around 2pm. Guests have all sorts of questions and requests and we are their first port of call. Well, my more experienced colleagues are. I, on the other hand, panic, avoid eye contact and pray I'm not asked for help.

THE rest of the team simply take it in their stride, smiles never leaving their faces.

"Our motto is service through friendship," laughs Joseph. "There are misconceptions that concierges are money driven. Some probably still see us as the grumpy luggage carriers, whereas we look after the porters and we're more desk-bound. But there is constant interacting with the customers. Don't you just love it?"

Er, no. I'd much prefer to hide behind the computer with a comfy chair and rest my weary feet.

"I've always enjoyed dealing with people and when I got into this I enjoyed the challenges and problem solving," says Joseph. "Plus, I love meeting new people. It's the perfect job."

Now it takes an experienced concierge to show regular guests or VIPs to their rooms, so I was prohibited from moving, which was just fine by me.

Instead I accompanied deputy head concierge Andy Fraser as he met an English couple returning for a weekend's break and to ask how he could be of service.Thankfully they didn't need anything so it was back to the concierge desk to take more calls and e-mails. A nanny is needed and so the hotel's baby sitting company is telephoned.

A hotel recommendation is requested so a flick through the two folders brimming with up-to-date menus from all Edinburgh's restaurants is needed before names are selected.

Four hours later, I'm knackered. I'm mentally exhausted, and my feet are killing me. Joseph and his team, however, are in their element chatting animatedly to guests, answering the phones brightly. Then the England rugby team walk past and I fail to notice them, much to the disapproval of my mentors. A concierge should always know his or her guests, you see.

But when they walk through the revolving door and one of the team trips over, whacking his forehead off the glass, the comedy moment makes me laugh along with the other players. Another no-no. A concierge is always professional. Never laugh at your guests. Ever.

So, do they ever have fun? "Oh yes, every day," says Joseph. "We really do enjoy our jobs.

"I remember when Van Morrison came to stay a couple of years ago, and he ended up in Palm Court on the piano singing his songs in the early hours of the morning. It was one of those moments that's priceless. It was us, a couple of his entourage and Van Morrison. In what other job can you experience that for free?"