Off-season? Not off duty
For tour guides in Scotland it is absolutely possible to work all year round - Rabbie’s & Timberbush still send buses all over the country right into the winter months, major tourist attractions still have visitors even on the dreichest of days. The truth is however, it is generally a seasonal job and I have found that to be the case. This year my peak season lasted longer than it ever has, with a really busy period through September and October but now, after the clocks have changed, it does feel like it’s off-season. Fewer overseas visitors, no full day tours planned for the next few months and a feeling of taking a breath after a busy push through late summer and early autumn. But what does a tour guide do in the off-season? Things slow down, but I am far from idle…
The darker months are where I get to flex my creative muscles - long form blogs, deeper research and, this year, a steadily growing archive of weekly podcasts. It’s a time to refill the well: reading new book & sources, letting ideas steep and refreshing the archive that underpins all my work.
A few years in and there is a bit of a rhythm to my winter office time now. A candle usually gets lit, because life is better when candles are lit. Music (Radio 3 Unwind is the answer to almost everything). Some days there will be a flurry of writing, and sometimes it’s a couple of scribbled out lines and back to the drawing board. I think, however, that it all adds up, is all worthwhile and is a key part of the off-season routine.
By the time the clocks go back, most overseas guests have flown home and the big day tours wind down. But guiding doesn’t really stop, it just slows and adapts.
Take Tales by the Fireside at the magnificent Aikwood Tower. There, beside the toasty fire, I share legends of the Clan Scott and the Ettrick Forest. These evenings are ideal for long shadows and flickering flames and are so intimate and atmospheric. Thank you Vicki at Aikwood for the opportunity to do these special events for guests at the tower.
Another example is my Twixmas walking tour, which is a gentle ramble between Christmas and New Year, designed for connection. No big tourist attraction to guide round, just a small group, stories and the wonder that is a winter walk. Hopefully the weather plays ball…
These off-season guiding opportunities are so important, helping me keep standards high year round and giving me the opportunity to adapt to the season.
Hiking is my favourite pastime, and winter is usually where I get the most chance to do it. With short daylight hours, and that low winter sun, I find myself heading for quick blasts up hills, over moors or even through towns. It’s rarely an epic adventure (even in winter, time is short!) - but it doesn’t need to be. I love the quiet, bare bones landscape of winter, with loads of room to notice what’s going on, to think and to learn.
Winter walks are a great reset. I feel ideas flow better when out walking, it’s a great way to get a knotty problem unravelled.
Hiking and exploring is fun, good for body and mind but also falls into my winter playbook as it helps me gather new ideas for tours, blogs or audio pieces. More than anything, it helps remind me why I do this job at all - the love of the land and the joy of connecting people to it.
Winter is my best chance to go out and look for new stories to enhance my tours. Half remembered fragments, local legends, surprise finds or personal memories. The distractions fade, and there’s time to follow hunches, or dive down full blown rabbit holes!
The truth is that I wouldn’t call this polished work. For every couple of hours spent in the library, I might unearth one or two anecdotes worth sharing on future tours, or perhaps none at all. But that’s sort of the point. It’s about staying open, enjoying the process and trusting that the hard work of looking for stories pays off in the long run.
I occasionally give presentations in care homes or speak at off season events with people of all generations. These are really wonderful, rich exchanges. It’s moments where stories are shared, not extracted. I’m especially drawn to voices that risk being overlooked. Our elders, in particular, have incredible experience, and often surprising pasts. I think it’s a bit of a tragedy how often those stories go unheard.
The bottom line is this - to be a good guide, you have to be a good listener. Winter gives me the time and space to do just that and honour those with a tale to tell, gathering what might otherwise be lost to time, or left on a library shelf.
So there it is - candles lit (Scottish Woodland by Gold Moss from Haus & Co, seeing as how you didn’t ask), boots covered in mud and archive growing. I might be winter, but I am still working and before we know it the snowdrops will be poking through…
Thanks for reading :)
