Michelle, the long way down to Gatwick

"You look like you have been awake since yesterday." Michelle says it kindly, takes your coat, and within five minutes has found you water, a menu and a comfortable chair. Tall at 173 cm and curvy, she wears her dark brown hair long and sleek, and her eyes are a warm brown. Her style is soft and romantic, rose tones and cream, a cashmere wrap over a fitted dress, small pearl studs she never takes off. Late twenties, a Chelsea resident, and elegant from the first hello.

Nurturing and chatty is an unusual pairing, and it works. Michelle notices when someone is tired, hungry or homesick and fixes whichever it is, all while telling a story about the day her dinghy capsized off the south coast. She sails whenever the wind cooperates. Museums fill her rainy days, and she collects odd facts from them the way other people collect fridge magnets. Mixology is her party trick. Her English is lively and warm, and conversation with her never once stalls.

Gatwick is a planned trip for her, and she treats it like a small voyage. The Hilton London Gatwick Airport is linked to the South Terminal by a covered walkway, so an early flight tomorrow means nothing more than a short stroll. She arrives by train with a travel kit of bitters in her bag, turns the minibar into something interesting, and orders room service with real authority. Three hours is the airport minimum including travel; she fills them with food, laughter and just enough calm for you to sleep afterwards.

Airport details, terminals and timings are on the Gatwick page. Send your flight and hotel through booking a day ahead and the desk will set it up.