Outcall, when one of you is already tired of travelling

Outcall settles the question of who travels, and on a working week that question has already been answered badly several times. One of you has crossed the city twice a day to reach a conference floor. The other has walked eight kilometres between canals. Outcall means that at nine in the evening neither of you goes anywhere: the address in the booking thread is where you already are, and she is the one with a journey to make.

There is no address to be given

The house keeps no premises at all. No studio, no rooms held for the purpose, nowhere a visitor could be sent. That is a deliberate shape rather than a missing piece. For a couple whose evening is already short, a journey out and a journey back would eat the free hour they arranged the booking around, and the hour would then be spent in transit instead of in the room.

What the room needs to be

A bed, a door that closes, somewhere to put a bag down, and heating you can turn up. A hotel room, an apartment let for the week, a company flat or a friend's spare room all work. What matters is that both of you are behind the door and that whoever wrote the first message is one of the two people there. The age rule applies to everyone in the room.

The city, and the airport separately

Central Amsterdam runs on the arrival window of forty to sixty minutes from a confirmed booking to a knock at the door. Schiphol and the hotels beside it are outside that figure and are arranged on their own footing, with the journey time agreed with you in writing before the hour is fixed, which the airport entry sets out. Nothing further out than that is reached.

What it asks of the two of you

Very little, and all of it fits in one message. The full address with a floor and a room or apartment number. A phone left face up, ideally the phone of the partner who is not in a meeting. A line about the entrance if the street door locks after a certain hour. The booking page sets out the six things an opening message needs.