by Freida Marie Crump
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Greetings from the Ridge.
Miscellaneous travel note: If you’re taking off your pants in your London hotel room as the double-decker tour bus is stopped outside your window, duck. If they notice you before you notice them, wave.
Might as well. They are.
Some folks scoff at group travel, citing the long bus rides, hotel check-in crowds, and the fact that you’re part of a large, camera-heavy clump moving down crowded sidewalks and subway cars. Me?
Heck, I love it. I often see those "independent travelers" trying to decipher their maps on street corners, trudging from hotel to hotel in search of lodgings, and generally missing the fun of group confusion.
Let’s face it, there’s no quicker way to bond than to see what your fellow traveler looks like while sleeping, mouth agape on a tour bus.
I had no idea that human beings made certain noises in slumber.
Of course when you travel with a group you’re treated to the delights of the European Tour Guide.
These guides come in all shapes and sizes but tend to be young, knowledgeable and enthusiastic. Our guide to the British Isles was a walking encyclopedia/atlas/history book named Larry. It was his job to keep our rose-colored glasses well polished, forever putting a positive spin on hot hotel rooms, closed museums, and extolling our "Bonus Adventure!" when our coach driver circled a town three times in search of the hotel.
Tour guides also have a particular vocabulary. Breaking their code is key to enjoying group travel. For example, "It’s just down the block,"
means "Bring your lunch, honey. You’re in for a walk." And in all fairness, they never say how long the block may be.
"A good, brisk walk" means bring your passport since you’ll be crossing several national boundaries, and "Just a fifteen minute stroll" is an indication that babies may be born while in route.
I always make it a point to ask our guides about their opinion of Americans, and it’s been interesting to learn how our image as travelers has changed in the last twenty years. I’ve had many guides tell me the old stereotype of "The Ugly American" has changed completely with German and Japanese tourists now becoming the pushiest and most demanding travelers. In fact, unless I was bamboozled by a guide fishing for a good tip, most concede that Americans are their very favorite, especially those from the Midwest and South.
They do, however, smile at the American penchant for announcing the price of everything we buy on tour. Larry said, "A Frenchman will show you what he bought. A Brit will show you the item and hint at the cost. The American tourist will announce the cost then invariably add, ‘And it was on sale!’"
U.S. travelers have also lost out in the title of "noisiest travelers." According to Larry, "Used to be you’d hear a group coming a mile away and it would invariably be a group of American teenagers.
Now you just shrug and say, ‘Here come the Italians.’"
Most interestingly, however, is our American penchant for making connections. A German or a Brit upon meeting a fellow countryman abroad will inquire as to where his new friend is from and leave it at that. Americans will stay with the conversation until they somehow make a connection. "You’re from Indiana. I have an uncle who lives in Waterloo. His name’s Bill and he walks with a limp. Do you know him?"
And on and on until they find at least one mutual friend in common.
And as Larry puts it, "Some nationalities just don’t care. You can meet a Frenchman atop Mt. Everest and mention that you live next door to him in Paris and he’ll raise his eyebrows as if to say, ‘Who cares’"
We also have yearning to get to know the guide personally.
"Americans," said Larry, "are the only nationality who inquire as to my family and home life. I really don’t mind but I must admit it’s startling to hear the question. Brits just don’t inquire quite so deeply. I’ll tell you the truth, I’ve had some very sad departures as I put American groups on their homebound plane. You folks tend to be very real and genuine."
Nice to hear in an age where our national image seems to have suffered so drastically.
Where was I? So, Herb was standing pantless in the second-story room of our London hotel when the double-decker bus stopped right outside our window. Oh heck with it. You can imagine the rest.
You ever in Coonridge, stop by. I’m off to see London!