We sometimes think we build in free time on all our tours as much for us as for our guests. It’s a time to do more than simply see all the sites and the pretty scenery. It’s an opportunity to be, if even for a short time, a part of what is there, a time for you to maybe feel a bit of that special thing you can’t get while on a coach or following a guide. It’s a time when you can divest yourself of all the ‘tourist’ labels and just ‘be’ a part of where you are.

We’ve done it everywhere we’ve done tours.

The sound of angels...

It was a moment that becomes indelibly locked in our memory. During a free afternoon in Exeter some of our group headed for the picturesque Quay, others to the Castle, some set sail for The Ship Inn, a pub made famous as the local for Sir Francis Drake while a number went shopping. Bev and I crossed the road from our hotel deciding to explore the Gothic Exeter Cathedral.

We had just entered when we were met by what sounded like angels but in reality was a small group of high school students rehearsing Andrew Lloyd Webber’s ‘Pie Jesu’ for an upcoming concert.

We were shocked at the hauntingly beautiful sounds coming from these jean clad teens. We got no further in our exploration of the Cathedral.

Legends amongst the ruins...

Another year and more free time in Glastonbury Abbey, purported to be the final resting place of the legendary King Arthur as well as a place of many miracles and healings – and one fascinating legend. More than a few claim that Joseph of Arimathea, believed to be a tin trader visited Glastonbury on trading expeditions a number of times. Joseph was the person who provided the tomb for Jesus following the crucifixion. It’s also said he was an uncle of Jesus. There is also a legend that during those ‘missing’ years of Jesus life after he was twelve, he traveled with his uncle to Glastonbury. A bit of stretch for many, but a fascinating story. It is also said that Joseph planted a Hawthorn bush, a cutting of which still flowers twice a year providing a cutting given to Elizabeth II.

In any case, during our hour or so of spare time, while our little gang headed for the shops and into town, Bev went for a wander around the grounds and came back a bit shaken with the strange, calm ‘feelings’ she had felt. Nothing that could be defined, but one of those times that can’t be readily explained.

And in Paris…

There can’t be anything much more romantic that strolling hand in hand along the banks of the Seine, passing under the many bridges that span this river of romance and history. And yes, our imaginary ears could hear the strains of an accordion playing “Under the bridges of Paris with you...” Mind you strolling anywhere in Paris is special.

An evening in Texas…

After a full day of discovering all the delights of San Antonio in full Christmas spirt with the lights, the decorations on all the 19^th century Victorian type homes, the shops, and naturally The Alamo, and the Mexican American ‘take’ on Christmas celabrations, it was time for a walk before bed. We strolled past the amazing display of lights wrapped around every tree lining the banks of the San Antonio River meandering through the heart of the City, listening to the choirs on the flat bottomed barges when Bev suddenly heard something quite different and quite unexpected. The sound of a piper whom we soon tracked down to one of the many bridges over the river. A 20s something Mexican-American was on the bridge, piping many of the old Scots tunes that pulls at the heart.

Not kilted, no cap out hoping for money. Just piping because, as he told us, he always loved that sound and he found this particular bridge was just about perfect for him.

The Dancing Queen…

The hotel in Fort Augustus had entertainment for the evening. A Ceilidh Band common in Scotland known for playing all the jigs, strathspeys and reels. Lively and fun. It wasn’t long before the locals were up and dancing and it wasn’t long after that before Bev just had to join in. Ins and outs, to and fro, learning as she went and happily assisted by those who knew what they were doing...except one shouldn’t try jigs and reels in partial high heeled flip flops. Lost a good pair of shoes that night. Bare feet worked just as good.

Then there was the wedding reception and dance in Ardoe House Hotel. No sedate ballroom dances here. It was a Highland wedding complete with a Scottish dance band. After our dinner some of us stood at the entrance to ballroom enjoying the reels and the dancing. Bev couldn’t keep still and was doing her own version in the hall when the kilted Master of Ceremonies came out and dragged her into the room where she threw herself into the swirling, winding, twisting intricacies with everyone else in the wedding party.

She lost a pair of earrings that night but gained a happy memory.

A Tea Dance in the park…

It was an old fashioned tea dance in the park on a Saturday morning in Zagreb. The band was playing all the old dance tunes fwhile people of all ages were happily dancing on the grass. It was a step back in time. Others who had been walking into town stopped to watch and were soon joining the dance.

Some obviously were regulars and had dressed appropriately. It was unexpected and we loved it spending about an hour or so enjoying something totally unexpected and something that became one of the highlights of our journey to Croatia.

Taking a tour is more than following the guides and staring out the windows of a coach. It’s a time to explore, the discover – and to enjoy.