SENA Limo

We’ve been using Estavam’s services consistently for about seven years for SFO and OAK, and local jaunts. We have also used his bigger vehicles for family events. He is, without a doubt, the most professional, conscientious and personable driver around.

I have used Sena for many years mainly to and from SFO. Estavam Sena and his wife are gems — always on time, reliable, reasonable.
I can’t imagine a better service.

We’ve used Sena for years, generally to go to Oakland Airport. Estevam Sena and his crew have always been timely and courteous. He’s never turned us down. He has water, magazines, and other creature comforts in his limos – generally Town Cars.

I should have known better. More importantly, I should have listened to the people that told me not to hire a limo off of a local website, but this guy made the cheapest offer, so I went with it. Hiring a limo is not a luxury my friends and I have ever afforded ourselves. This was a special occasion– we splurged.
Our driver was supposed to arrive at 8:30 in the morning. At about 8:00, he called to tell me he would be ten to fifteen minutes late. I wasn’t thrilled, but at least he called. He then proceeded to call me at ten minute intervals to tell me where he was prior to his arrival.
At 9:00, he shows up. We now have two hours to get to our first reservation in Napa. He makes me sign some form, explaining in broken English that it is for insurance purposes and makes me prepay for twelve hours.
I fork over six hundred bucks, reiterate that we are going to be late and we pile in. He proceeds to drive a little third-​worldishly over the Golden Gate while we drink mimosas and get jostled around the back seat for an hour.
Once we reach Napa, he asks us if any of us need to stop to use the bathroom. We say no. He stops nonetheless. Ok, I understand, dude had to pee. That’s not a big deal. We loiter for twenty minutes or so– he has already had plenty of time to visit the bathroom. There was no line. Finally, he emerges from a nearby café grinning with a latte in hand.
We now have about ten minutes to reach our first winery. Someone pulls up directions on their phone and starts telling the driver where to go. The driver misses the winery, turns around and has me stick my head through the partition between the seating area and his part of the limo and help him look for the correct street. I begin to mutter obscenities in French.
Fast forward a few wineries. We’re all drunk. We’re a bit rowdy, we pull into the last of our stops. The road forks. He goes the wrong way for the seventeenth time that day. We yell in unison. He begins to back up. Someone in the back tells him he’s clear… as I mutter «we’re going into a ditch.» There’s a thud. Once he has safely maneuvered the vehicle out of the ditch, yells at me for telling him to back up.
He spends the rest of the day driving at a snail’s pace. We back up traffic. People are honking, yelling and giving us the finger as we putter along. Again, I engage in French-​obscenity-​therapy. He turns around and, in broken English says «I speak French.»
P. S. I don’t want to give this guy any stars, but this is my first Unilocalage and that doesn’t seem to be an option.