Published on Mar, 2025
If you could bottle up the perfect tour guide—equal parts historian, conversationalist, and genuinely delightful human—you’d get Christopher. From the moment we met him, he exuded warmth, wit, and that rare kind of patience that suggests he could effortlessly handle both wayward sheep and jet-lagged tourists.
The Cotswolds themselves? Pure magic. Rolling green hills that look suspiciously like a film set, honey-colored cottages so charming they almost feel smug about it, and villages that seem designed exclusively for cozy mysteries and high-quality shortbread packaging. It’s a place so breathtaking you half expect to bump into Jane Austen mid-stroll, or at least a very judgmental pheasant.
Christopher didn’t just guide us through the landscape—he brought it to life. He had an easy way of making history feel less like a dusty textbook and more like an engaging dinner party anecdote. He answered every question with enthusiasm, even the truly ridiculous ones (which I will not be naming here for the sake of my own dignity). And through it all, he made us feel like old friends, rather than just tourists in the back of a van.
If you’re considering a trip to the Cotswolds, take this as your sign: go. And if you’re lucky enough to have Christopher as your guide, well—you’ve won the tour guide lottery.