A roadshow is a schedule pretending to be a journey. Six meetings, four postcodes, a lunch that will overrun and a train at the end of it. The transport is not the hard part; the sequencing is. A day built by someone looking at a diary rather than a map will fail somewhere around meeting four, and it will fail quietly until it is too late to fix.
This checklist is for whoever builds the schedule — an executive assistant, a syndicate desk, a sales director planning a week of client visits. It covers ordering the day, deciding how much slack is honest, briefing the chauffeur properly, looking after materials and people, and having a plan for the moment it starts to slip. Most of the work happens before anyone gets into a car.
Sequence by geography, not by diary
The instinct is to book meetings as counterparties offer them and then hope the day joins up. It rarely does. Lay the confirmed meetings on a map before you accept the times, and cluster them: the City in one block, the West End in another, Canary Wharf as its own half day rather than a stop between two others. A single badly placed meeting can cost ninety minutes.
The same logic applies across a multi-city week. Two cities in a day is workable if the meetings sit near the stations and the middle of the day is protected. Three is usually a fiction. Decide the geography first, then negotiate the times around it, rather than accepting every slot offered. Counterparties are far more flexible about time than they are about date.
- Every confirmed meeting plotted by address, not by company name
- Meetings grouped into geographic blocks with a single move between them
- Outlying locations placed at the start or the end of the day
- Realistic city-to-city transfers, including the walk at each end
- The immovable appointment identified, so everything else flexes around it
- The final departure, with its own hard deadline
Buffer that is honest, not optimistic
Every roadshow schedule contains a lie about how long meetings take. An hour in the diary is seventy minutes in the room, plus five minutes of goodbyes at the lift, plus the security desk on the way out. Multiply that by six and the day has lost an hour it never had. Build the buffer where it will actually be used rather than spreading it evenly across the morning.
The useful rule is to protect the immovable points and let the flexible ones compress. If the last meeting is with the most important client and the train is at six, the slack belongs in the afternoon rather than the morning. And a genuine gap somewhere in the middle — twenty minutes with the car parked and nobody expecting anything — is worth more to the day than one extra meeting.
- Extra minutes at the end of each meeting for goodbyes and lifts
- Building security and reception check-in at every arrival
- One genuine gap for calls, notes, or simply catching up
- Slack concentrated before the immovable point, not spread thinly
- A latest departure time for the final leg, agreed with everyone

Brief the chauffeur as you would a colleague
A chauffeur who knows only the next address is a taxi. A chauffeur who has the whole day in front of them can position the car, find the right entrance while you are still inside, and tell you honestly whether the next leg is twelve minutes or thirty. Send the full itinerary rather than releasing it one stop at a time. It changes what they are able to do for you.
Include the things that are not addresses. Which meetings might overrun. Who is joining and leaving during the day. Where the car can wait near each building. Whether anyone needs to make a confidential call between stops. A professional chauffeur uses all of it, and none of it needs to include what the meetings are actually about. Discretion is assumed in both directions.
- The full itinerary with addresses, times and expected durations
- The named passengers, and where any of them join or leave
- Buildings with awkward entrances, barriers or security procedures
- Where the car may wait near each stop, if you already know
- Which meetings are most likely to run over
- One contact who can be reached by message all day
Looking after the people
Six meetings is a physically demanding day, and people perform worse at the end of it than at the beginning through nothing but fatigue and low blood sugar. Water in the car, a proper break somewhere in the middle and food that is not a sandwich eaten in traffic all pay for themselves in the last two meetings. It is the simplest performance improvement available to any schedule.
It matters more when the team includes people who have flown in that morning. Jet lag, an early start and an unfamiliar city are a poor combination, and the fix is a schedule that starts slightly later and a car quiet enough to close your eyes in. Ask the visiting team what time they actually landed before you finalise anything, rather than after the itinerary has gone out.
Recovering a day that has slipped
Assume it will. The question is whether the slip is noticed at meeting two or meeting five. Agree in advance who decides what gets cut, shortened or moved, and make sure that person is on the message thread with the chauffeur rather than sitting in the meeting that is overrunning. Decisions made forty minutes late are barely decisions. Someone outside the room has to be watching the clock.
Have the fallback ready rather than inventing it. Which meeting can become a call. Which can move to tomorrow morning. Which one you will simply arrive late for, having sent a message. And what the true last-possible departure is for the train or the flight, because that number is the one everything else has to respect. Written down beforehand, it takes seconds to act on.
- One named person empowered to shorten, move or cut a meeting
- A ranked list of which meetings are protected and which are not
- Meetings that could convert to a call from the car
- The true last-possible departure for the final leg
- The chauffeur kept informed as soon as anything changes




























