Driving force: scooter cabs

How are your customers getting home this Christmas? This is the time of year, more than any other, when some may be tempted to reach for their car keys after a few glasses of mulled wine. Some licensees, however, believe they have found a way to take a stand against this potentially disastrous course of events.

An unusual type of taxi company has been revving its engine in recent years. Scooter Man and Drive-U-Home offer chauffeurs who arrive on scooters or motorbikes to drive customers home in their own cars. The drivers fold up their two-wheelers, place them in the boot of the customer's car and whisk them home.

For many pubs, it is only to be expected that customers arrive by car. There is something about these heady days of mistletoe and merriment that makes drink-driving a real possibility, and one which publicans must confront.

Promoting Scooter Man or Drive-U-Home on your premises is far from pure benevolence in keeping with the season of goodwill. It could boost your profile, and even earn extra revenue, with Drive-U-Home offering five per cent commission on bookings made by your customers. Licensees and staff booking with Scooter Man for personal journeys also get 10 per cent off the standard fare.

Both companies target pubs. Scooter Man has around 550 licensees in cities across the UK signed up to its Scooter Partners Scheme, a group of pubs that, says Scooter Man director Robert Williamson, are keen to promote the anti-drink-driving message and get their customers home safely.

Drive-U-Home has a similar list of more than 300 pubs, mainly in the London area. Those who have signed up receive free advertising and point-of-sale material.

Both companies insure vehicles for up to £50,000 damage, and require customers to register as members. Fares are cheaper than a two-way journey in a black cab.

Scooter Man is also sponsored by Budweiser. "It's a good link-up with our ethos on responsible drinking," says Oliver West, Budweiser consumer marketing director. "I would be pleased if people were to see this service and decide to use it."

Licensee's view: Henry Africa's Hot House Bar, Bristol

Henry Africa's Hot House Bar in Bristol is one of many pubs whose customers have used Scooter Man since the company expanded outside of London. Its general manager, James Maloney, has been signed up with Scooter Man since the company launched in the city earlier this year.

The bar now sees customers making up to 10 bookings with Scooter Man each week.

As well as displaying Scooter Man posters, Henry Africa's ran a series of promotions in May, with customers taking advantage of free bookings, and the event covered in local newspapers.

"It has caused quite a stir in Bristol," says James, "and there has been a lot of interest from customers. They find it a novelty when they get the text to say the driver has arrived. They all gather round laughing."

He is advertising Scooter Man within Henry Africa's Christmas promotions. The bar also features adverts on big screens, and clips of the scooters are woven into this.

"I think it will really take off over Christmas in here," James says. "For office workers, it means they don't have to get a taxi back and return for the car the following day. You have to be aware that there will always be people in your pub who have come in the car."

Licensee's view: the Star and Garter, Soho, London

Licensee Kelvin Barrow says he has found Scooter Man "a very good service" since he started promoting it in the Star and Garter two and half years ago. He is a loyal customer himself, regularly ordering a driver to take him home after a few drinks in his pub following a shift.

Kelvin says the driver has been late so rarely "I would not even worry about it." The customer base at the Star and Garter, near Oxford Circus, is largely commuters, and based around lunchtime and evening trade. Yet, come the weekend, Scooter Man makes pick-ups there, with customers staying into the evening.

Kelvin places the firm's posters and flyers around the pub. He says customers often come to him, asking for information.

There are misconceptions about the service, he believes. "People think it's going to be an astronomical cost. They're also put off by the 'scooter' label, much like when minicabs were introduced and people thought they were literally Minis!"

He takes a firm stance against drink-driving. "I believe people should stop drinking altogether when driving," he says. "One beer can be too many - it's so difficult to calculate from individual to individual how many drinks they can have."

A job for Scooter Man

This was always going to be the litmus test for my trial run with Scooter Man (SM). The crunching gravel underneath my trusty old banger's wheels announces our arrival at our destination. Driver Harry has to get up a tight, twisty drive and squeeze into a garage before he can collect the fare.

My bumpers are at stake, Harry's credibility is at stake, the health of the passengers in the back is at stake.

I eye the crumbling pillar that is a telltale sign of how difficult residents find navigating this path. "Your tyres need some air," Harry says. Genuine observation of my lax attitude to vehicle maintenance, or an excuse in preparation for an accident?

The car is an extra layer of paint away from the walls, but Harry passes the test with as much style as it's possible to muster in an R-reg Nissan Micra. He even leaves comfortable room to open the passenger door and get out once inside the garage.

Harry had picked me up after my night out in Greenwich. When my phone rang to tell me the driver had arrived, I peered out through the pub window to see him perched, like a circus clown, on a comically small bike.

His hands a blur, he disassembled the monkey bike within three minutes, placed the parts into bags and layered them like blocks from the videogame Tetris into my boot. He had weaved between traffic to get here from SM's base in Battersea Park in 25 minutes.

Greenwich to Lewisham was far from the most testing job he had done, he said. He was once asked to drive from London to Oxford in sleeting rain.

Outside my garage, he sat back down on his reassembled bike. "It's always satisfying when it starts again," he says (surely the kiss of death?)

One attempt. The engine makes a sad, spluttering noise. Two attempts. Nothing. Three attempts. Harry looks worried. Fourth attempt. It finally starts, and he's off into the night to ferry more customers from pub door to front door.