(MONEY Magazine) – At the renowned Oriental Hotel in Bangkok, a guest wanted to go sightseeing--on an elephant.

A South American traveler staying at Miami's luxurious Grand Bay Hotel had an imperative need for three goats--Nubian goats.

A gallant gent at Dallas' Mansion on Turtle Creek demanded "the evening of the decade" for his beloved--flying by helicopter to a luxury yacht, with a sumptuous dinner for two accompanied by live music.

A newlywed at the chic Hotel Eden in Rome longed to visit the city's ruins with his bride--in a Ben Hur-type chariot.

Charged with satisfying these extravagant demands, and dozens of simpler ones each day, is an elite band--those efficient, coolheaded kings and queens of can-do, the people sporting crossed golden keys on their collars who preside over the concierge desks of the world's finest hotels.

You have probably already had a concierge fulfill your workaday requests for limousine rentals, city tours, restaurant and theater reservations, hairdressers, personal trainers, travel arrangements, repair of damaged luggage, shipping packages home and the dispatch of birthday flowers to overseas destinations. But you could have just as well commanded the likes of the following--and more: a team of bodyguards, tickets to a sold-out Tokyo sumo match or even the location of a relative's grave.

In their busy, kaleidoscopic days, concierges also see to it that the special small needs of VIP guests are gratified. When Mary Stamm, 48, head concierge at the Mansion on Turtle Creek, learned that Elizabeth Taylor was coming for a stay, she phoned colleagues in Los Angeles for tips on amenities to please the star.

"The concierge at the Bel-Air remembered that Liz liked pistachio nuts, but he couldn't recall what type," says Stamm. So she provided Taylor with two bowls of pistachios--one unshelled, salted and red, the other shelled, unsalted and plain-colored. "When I checked her room to see which one she preferred," Stamm says, "I saw she'd gotten into both."

It is the challenge of offbeat and extraordinary requests that really gets the creative juices flowing for the best concierges. "The stress of the unknown is a thrill," explains concierge Alain Lehaie, 58, of the Hotel du Cap in Antibes on the French Riviera.

Calm, low-key Andrew Lomars, 52, at Miami's Grand Bay, is still shaking his head about the Colombian guest who wanted three Nubian goats to ship back home to a friend whose son could not drink cow's milk. The man insisted, of course, that the Nubian goats have pedigree papers. From the day of the request until Lomars took possession of the goats, the search consumed three months, much of it spent tracking down a reliable source. After Lomars finally found one in West Palm Beach, Fla., he had a carpenter custom-build a crate and commissioned a freight broker to obtain a shipping license and arrange air transport. On the final day, Lomars drove to West Palm Beach, helped load the goats, and then drove to Miami International Airport.

"As I went down I-95 with the animals in back," he recalls, "I said to myself, at least this will make a good story." The cost: $900 for the goats, $500 for the crate and about $2,000 for airfreight and broker services. Lomars had received an advance $500 tip, "about 50[cents] an hour," he figures, but "it's all part of being a concierge."

Mary Stamm remembers receiving a telephone request on a Wednesday from a guest arriving at the Mansion on Turtle Creek that Friday to set up his romantic "evening of the decade."

"I immediately began calling chartered boat companies but had trouble getting them to respond," says Stamm. So she telephoned marinas in the area, asking them to have boat owners phone her when they stopped to refuel.

After hearing from an owner at Lake Lewisville to the north and striking a deal for a yacht rental ($1,000), she then "began organizing the transportation, catering and musicians."

Since the lake has no heliport, Stamm arranged for a chartered whirlybird ($1,150 for two hours) to land the couple in a nearby field illuminated by the headlights of automobiles provided by the boat owner. Earlier that day, the hotel dispatched a room service captain trained in food preparation (the main course was steak au poivre) and a waiter, along with cooking utensils, china and crystal ($1,500). A string duo played ($500). When the dinner cruise concluded, a charcoal-gray Cadillac DeVille limo and driver ($500) were waiting to whisk the couple back to the Mansion. Total cost: $4,650.

Around the globe in Bangkok, Chaturong Siewsutha, 51, chief concierge of the posh Oriental, had an American woman guest who wanted to tour the city by elephant--complete with canopied howdah seating for herself and a mahout "chauffeur." Problem is, it's illegal to traipse through Bangkok's narrow, crowded streets aboard a pachyderm. Why not try the elephant ride in the city's famed Rose Garden, suggested Chaturong. The client turned the suggestion down--too tame.

Determined to satisfy, the concierge called friends in the old Thai capital of Ayuthaya, 90 minutes from Bangkok by car. There it was confirmed, through the services of a local entrepreneur, that the woman could ride an elephant not only through the ruins but to surrounding villages. That was more like it. She was provided with a 1995 yellow Mercedes limo and English-speaking driver (about $150 for six hours), and made the trip to Ayuthaya, from where, perched in a howdah and with mahout seated on the elephant's neck, she set off on her ramble (a bargain $50 for two hours)--and loved it. She was even back at the Oriental in time for dinner.

At Rome's Hotel Eden, concierge Maurizio Pangrazi, 51, faced a honeymooning American husband who wanted to do "something special" for his bride; he immediately rejected the idea of a horse-drawn carriage ride around Rome as banal. Pangrazi, who gives a lot of business to the carriage drivers, used his influence. Result: A wise driver gave his vehicle a makeover into a Ben Hur-style chariot. "He did a pretty good job of it," says the concierge. The couple were spiritedly carried away. After four hours up and back on the Appia Antica, they paid the driver almost $300 and gave him a $50 tip.

Pangrazi has an easier time getting visitors in to see the Pope. First, he makes a copy of the guest's passport. For Americans, he brings the copy and request to the Visitors Office at the North American College, a residence for American priests in Rome. Then, on the day of the audience (always Wednesday), Pangrazi sends "one of the boys" there to pick up the tickets. (For non-Americans, he makes the request at the Vatican itself.) As many as 7,000 people pack the Paul VI auditorium for the 1 1/2-hour audience. The Pope, seated at the center of the stage and flanked by two Swiss Guards, greets pilgrims in as many as a dozen languages, gives a talk in Italian and then summarizes it in six other languages. The occasion has been lovingly described as "a kind of pilgrims' pep rally," with nuns climbing up on chairs for a better view, members of groups singing or waving scarves as their names are called, and flashbulbs continuously going off.

Sometimes it's not the request that's extraordinary but, rather, the courtesy of the concierge. One New Year's Eve, Gerard-Jacques Avez, the 54-year-old head concierge at the Hotel Ritz in Paris, hand-delivered to a castle near Bourges a fur coat left behind by a princess (understandably, he refuses to identify her). For his kindness, Avez was invited to stay for the holiday and share the family's special New Year's feast.

Will concierges do anything? Where do they draw the line? All leading hotels have stringent policies against illegal activities. So when male guests occasionally ask a concierge such as Avez about obtaining the services of a "jolie 'demoiselle" or a gram of cocaine, his reply is always a polite but firm "non."

Rajagopal Rajkumar, 39, chief concierge of the Raffles Hotel in Singapore, agrees: "Sometimes we do need to say no." Other concierges, however, such as Christian Sussman, 49, of the respected Peninsula Hotel in Hong Kong, say they will point guests seeking "companionship" to the local Yellow Pages or to magazines listing escort services; a few concierges will even provide escort-service phone numbers for VIP clients.

With a group as worldly and as proud of their work as concierges, it is no surprise that they have an international organization. Founded in 1929 in Paris, Les Clefs d'Or (known as the Golden Keys in English-speaking nations) has 3,000 members worldwide (about 325 in the U.S.). "It's a network of friendship," says Michael Wilson, 43, head concierge at the Savoy in London. And, naturally, it provides extended-family concierge services: When some guests at the Savoy decided on a quick Eurostar visit to Brussels and wanted "an English-speaking guide to meet them and take them around for the day," Wilson "called one of my Golden Key colleagues at a large hotel there. He arranged everything for them."

John Neary, 51, head concierge at New York's elite hotel Carlyle, was president of the Golden Keys from 1991 to 1995, logging 250,000 miles attending international and regional meetings--not something he or anyone would have predicted when he graduated from the University of Pennsylvania, where he studied sociology, and headed for New York to pursue a career on the Broadway stage. While landing an occasional part (mainly off-off-Broadway), he found regular work on the front desk at the Carlyle. (The general manager at the time was a former theater person.) In 1978, the Carlyle began its concierge service. "When we started out," recalls Neary, "there weren't American concierges. We were clearly the new kids on the block." Certainly, times have changed.

HOW TO GET THE BEST SERVICE

Concierges are anxious to please, but hotel guests often do not know how to make use of them. For best results, concierges recommend alerting them as far ahead as possible of any request. "The more time we have to work on it, the better the results," says Steven Bagley, 46, chief concierge at Washington, D.C.'s Willard Inter-Continental. "I'd love it if guests faxed us special requests a week ahead. It's helpful not only for unusual needs but for things that seem mundane yet need advance planning, like arranging for babysitters or foreign-language tours or getting theater seats."

As with other service professions, tipping is part of the quid pro quo for getting first-class service. Concierge Patrick Smit, 28, of the Amstel Hotel in Amsterdam admits that tips make up a large part of his total income. When to tip may be almost as important as how much to tip. According to experienced international travelers, the best idea is to visit the concierge desk soon after arriving, explain what you will need, and tip the concierge at that time.

How much to tip? If you're expecting to use the services of a concierge over several days, an appropriate tip might be $20 U.S., 100 French francs or 10 pounds sterling. If you're unsure about currency conversions in other countries, just make the tip in dollars. For lesser services, a tip of $5 or $10 is appropriate, says Andrew Lomars of Miami's Grand Bay. But if the requests are very demanding or, he adds, frequent--such as a series of tightly scheduled restaurant reservations, tickets for events and limo arrangements over a three-day period--a tip of $50 would not be out of line.

Concierges often supplement their income by getting a fee--perhaps $5 a head--from restaurants for each guest they send along. But rather than taking such a fee, Lomars prefers that the restaurant send drinks to the guests' table with his compliments. "If they have a wonderful time," says Lomars, "they'll come back and show their gratitude. It makes me look good, and the guest benefits."

A pointer from savvy travelers: You don't have to be registered at a hotel to use the services of its concierge. Concierges normally don't ask if you are staying at their hotel, and if your appearance is respectable they will proceed to accommodate a variety of basic requests. As one practiced globetrotter puts it: "You can join an international club of elites served by concierges worldwide just by slipping on a blazer and asking for help."

This past summer, a New York photography editor put this theory into practice. She was in Nice on Bastille Day and had to get back to her hotel on the city outskirts near the major exhibition hall, but it was impossible to find a taxi because of the holiday. She went into a leading oceanfront hotel and asked the concierge to obtain a taxi to take her to the exposition hall. Voila--the cab arrived in two minutes.