Page 13 of Only One Tour Bus

Ah, the best part of being a tour leader: getting everywhere early.

Fifteen minutes later, after dumping my luggage in the room and scrolling my phone for ten minutes, I’m sitting in the lobby when Asha comes down.

“At least you’re punctual.” I nod approvingly.

She ignores the dig because what is the opinion of a storm cloud to the sun?

“Do you have the meal vouchers from the office for your group?” She waves hers in front of my face.

“I do.” I pull them out of my backpack, waving them at her.

“Excellent.”

Roshni and Camila are down first, maintaining their title of most punctual, followed closely by everyone else. They must be very hungry. And if they miss dinner, they have to pay for something themselves, and even though Edinburgh isn’t as expensive as London, it’s not exactly cheap either. The stomach and the wallet: excellent motivators.

“Great! We’re all here, and I’m sure we’re all hungry, so let’s get to the pub. It’s not a far walk.” Asha has a surprising amount of authority and confidence as she walks through the winding, medieval roads of Edinburgh’s old town. I guess a lot has changed for both of us since the training trip.

We get to the pub without losing anyone along the way, me taking the back while Asha leads in the front. It’s an efficient way to make sure no one wanders off, but I’m not used to the luxury you get when there’s two guides.

In the pub, Asha makes sure everyone’s settled as we take over a corner at the Victoria.

“I’m sure you’re all excited for our first family dinner, and I’m right there with you. We’ve got the menus passed out, with some fine traditional pub fair. Fish and chips. Some delicious meat pies. Mushy peas. A chicken curry. And for any vegetarians, chips and chips with a side of mushy peas. Welcome to the United Kingdom.” She waits for the groans at her joke, and they don’t disappoint. Tourist reactions rarely do, despite how unique they think they are. “The meal is covered, as well as soft drinks, but no refills. We’ve also ordered some plates of haggis if people wanted to try it without committing to an entire meal of it. And any alcohol you desire can be purchased individually at the bar. Enjoy!”

Done with her speech, she searches the room for a free spot. Which turns out to be at a table with me, Roshni, and Camila. She sits down with a smile, giving the couple a chance to review the menu.

Once we all order, she snaps into tour guide mode. “How are you enjoying the trip so far? All one day of it, at least.”

“It’s been good. We ate some sausage rolls for lunch that were pretty good and saw the National Gallery,” Roshni says.

“They have some truly beautiful art,” Asha says.

There’s a tension in the air at the table, the same one there was when they checked in. Still not my business, but Asha doesn’t feel the same, because she keeps trying to engage them in conversation.

Roshni answers all the questions, while Camila is silent. When she excuses herself to use the bathroom and get a drink, Asha leans over to Roshni. “Is Camila all right? If she’s not feeling well, we can run down to the chemist and get some medicine.”

Roshni sighs. “She’s fine. Well, medically. We’ve just been fighting over her job. She’s a CEO for a start-up and I’m so proud of her. But she’s always so busy and doesn’t have time for me. She didn’t even want to come on the trip, but I reminded her that she promised we would have a five-year anniversary trip to Europe when she was settled in her career. Since we didn’t have the time or money for a honeymoon.” She shrugs, looking miserable for someone celebrating their love. “I’m sure her mind is still in LA and right now she’s trying to sneak to the bathroom to send off some reports or whatever CEOs do.”

Asha reaches out to pat the dejected woman on her shoulder. “It’s only the first day. Give Europe some time to do its magic.”

Then Asha shares an unusually (for her) somber look with me.

Because she left off the rest of the sentence. Which is that the magic of Europe can bring a couple together, but in a lot of cases, the stress of traveling can break one apart. But either way, a whirlwind tour of a continent, with its beautiful sights, exhausting days, and sometimes questionable foods, will reveal truths about people. And their relationships.

We’ve seen it all on this job.

When Camila comes back with drinks for herself and Roshni, Asha seamlessly changes the subject. “What are you most excited for, Camila?”

The woman is startled by the direct questions, her mind probably on those reports. “Oh. I’ve always wanted to see the Louvre. So much beautiful art in one place. And then have a good, French meal. It’s my favorite food.”

“We can definitely make that happen.” Asha smiles at her, and my mouth aches in sympathy. She’s been smiling all day; how can she possibly keep this up? Does she do special exercises to build up the muscles around her mouth? What would mouth exercises be, anyway?

Seems like a lot of effort for an inadequate payoff. I’ll only smile if something genuinely amuses me. Which on tour, is rarely. At least, rarely in front of the customers.

I have too much to think about on tour. There’s the day-to-day admin like hotels, meal vouchers, and coordinating travel, but also I want to give them the best education that I can. I do enjoy history, and I take my responsibility seriously to tell these groups about it. I want to see the way their eyes light up when they learn a particularly interesting to them fact, or the “ah-ha!” moment when they make connections over all the things they learned through the tour and how it relates to things that happened in other cities.

And I can’t do all of that well, and keep up the smiles like Asha can.

Asha dominates the conversation, making more of an effort to draw Roshni and Camila out. I stalk the waiter with my eyes, wanting the food to get here so I can eat and then leave the group to their own devices.