Tour guides are an integral part of the visitor experience in many destinations and often make the difference between a good experience and an outstanding one or, sadly, what potentially could have been a good experience and one that instead lives on in the memory for all the wrong reasons. I have recently returned from a holiday in the US where I had the misfortune to experience three examples of tour guiding that, for various reasons, showed that there is still a long way to go in terms of delivering an excellent experience that really meets the tourists’ needs.
The first example was at a small historic house in Annapolis, Maryland. The house, like so many in the US, is run by a charitable organisation that has deep roots within the community. And as a result, it is reliant partly on young ‘docents’ from the local college and partly on retired citizens for whom the property and their engagement with it is an integral part of their life. Our misfortune was to be show round by a (very) elderly lady who admitted that it was her first tour in a year as she had been incapacitated for several months because of a hip replacement. Fair dos to her – she was keen and knowledgable, and eager to please, but the tour itself was an unconstructed stream of consciousness that was long on her personal opinion (e.g. “I like this clock”) and short on context. A little refresher training on how to present a coherent tour that is pertinent to the audience’s interests (my wife and I were the only people on the tour and she had quickly ascertained we were from the UK) would have enabled us to get much, much more from the visit. As it stood, when we left we felt we had briefly become part of Cameron’s much vaunted (and now forgotten) ‘Big Society’, transferring our care for the elderly across the Atlantic to Maryland.
Two days later we booked on to a so-called ‘eco-kayak tour’ of the inland waters between Chincoteague and Assateague Islands on the Eastern Shore of Chesapeake Bay. Although the water was calm and the sounds we went through rarely more than 1m deep, I was astonished that there was no safety briefing from the operator before we even stepped into the kayaks. We were issued with life jackets and as we were putting them on a young guy sauntered over to us and announced, in an amazing southern drawl “Hi. I’m Skippy, and I’m your guide”.
Of course, anyone of my generation (born 1960) automatically thinks of Skippy the Bush Kangaroo, the popular tv programme from the 60s and 70s. So I was always going to find it hard taking him seriously from the outset. But about 2 minutes into the trip, whilst my wife and I were still getting to grips with paddling a double kayak (I’ve canoed a lot in the past, she never has), he admitted that he wasn’t a proper guide, but was filling in for someone who hadn’t turned up. In fact, he told us, he was a professional cage fighter based in Ohio and was just in Assateague for a few days visiting family. So we had paid well in excess of $100 to rent a kayak for a couple of hours and spend it, not getting an informed insight into the ecology of the wetlands and backwaters, but instead trying to decipher the drawl of someone who had obviously been kicked in the head one too many times. His lack of biological understanding became evident when, on seeing a Tern, Skippy tried to convince us that the Tern family are basically a cross between an Albatross and a sparrow! I must admit, I’ve not checked this out with David Attenborough or anyone else from the BBC Wildlife Unit, but I’m pretty sure that if this was the case, ‘Life on Earth’ would have made this clear. So we went from random information overkill to nonsense information overkill.
Hoping for a more satisfactory experience we headed south to Williamsburg and the myriad of heritage sites along the James River. We decided to visit Historic Jamestowne, a site managed by the US National Parks Service, global leaders in interpretation and an organisation dedicated to delivering customer satisfaction. We booked onto the 10.00 tour and waited for a smartly clad, uniformed ranger to show us round the archaeological remains. Instead we were greeted by a youngish lady dressed in early 17th century clothing who spoke to the group in a cod-Shakespearean English accent straight out of am-dram acting. On and on and on she droned, asking us where we’d travelled from, what we did for a living and translating this information into a narrative that implied we were all there to help build the settlement. It was AWFUL. First-person costumed interpretation is difficult to pull off at the best of times, but although the presentation appeared to be being lapped up by the Americans in the group, it reminded me of every 1940s movie set in Merrie England. Unfortunately we could only gain admission to the site museum as part of the group so we couldn’t make a break for the border too early. When we did, we vowed that we would do no more tours that holiday.
Why have I been rabbiting on about this? Well, we spent around $150 between us on admission tickets for these three experiences, and apart from catching the sun during the kayak trip and getting bitten to buggery by mosquitos and other bugs on the Jamestown tour, we’ve got nothing to show for that investment. Apart from a couple of impressions that we can use at dinner parties to entertain friends. Oh, and we’ve already told anyone who will listen which historic properties in Annapolis and Williamsburg NOT to visit, and which company NOT to use for an ‘ecotour’ around Assateague. It was the end of the season, perhaps site operators were getting lazy or complacent. But there is no excuse not to deliver the highest standards of tour guiding to every party. Otherwise, all you get is bad press!