my 87-yr. old tour guide

On my last day of visiting the UK, I decided to try something I’ve never done before: a tour bus. And no, I’m not talking about a bus for performers when touring cross-country or internationally. No, it’s not like my experience on the Blue’s Clues tour where there are bunk-beds, a full kitchen, a TV room, and living room area (though it was pretty great and I really miss it). I’m talking about a regular bus. Rows of seats. Two on each side, left and right. A little space of storage above for you to put your backpack and small items. Think of it as a bus for traveling athletes. Not tacky, but not too pretty either. However, if you visit the UK and end up on one of these, GET THE WINDOW SEAT. It’s very peaceful looking at the green pastures while listening to some chill tunes. For me, at the moment, it was the soundtrack of the new Barbie movie featuring, celebrity crush, Margot Robbie.

By now, I probably should’ve called it “tourist bus,” but I’m simply not going to admit that. I'd like to stick out, but not like a sore thumb.

I didn’t really know much about tourist buses; only that they were usually for people 40 yrs. old & up, or families…you know, with kids and stuff. Here I am, ripe at the age of 24. You’d think I’d be at a bar somewhere in central London. Nope! Instead, I’m waiting on a bus, earphones in my head, listening to “Barbie Dreams” by FIFTY FIFTY. Great song though! Gents, you didn’t hear it from me, but I heavily recommend it for a good boogie with your girlfriend.

I’m waiting for our tour guide to get this show on the road towards places like Windsor Castle, Stonehenge, and of course, poshy Oxford…okay okay okay, I got to admit that sounds like a stoking time! As I’m listening to FIFTY screaming deep and emotional lyrics like “la dee da da da” and “perfect plastic life from a magazine,” a wrinkly, hunched, elderly man trudges up the steps into the bus…it's our dear tour guide. If it wasn’t for his bright smile and matching tropical boat hat/vest, one would presume him miserable for his age. He takes off his vest, throws it on the seat in front of me (I sat at the front of the bus), and scans the room. His smile pauses for a moment as his gaze takes a sort of Ebenezer-Scrooge effect, making eye contact with every person on the bus. He throws up his fist and screams out, “A JOLLY GOOD TIME TO ALL OF YOU!” Everyone bursts out in laughter and joy as the old man celebrates our time to be spent together.

“My name is Victor Armad. Don’t mind me, for 87 is just a number.”

Don’t worry, he gave me permission to use his name.

Everyone broke out to even louder volumes of laughter. They loved him!

I would say he spoke very poetically, like an Oxford literature professor. But his knowledge in British history was awe-inspiring, and his crisp battle-tune whistles were impressive. But most of all…the gas left in the tank for this man was tremendous. He made 24-yr old me look like the old man. When I say he walked faster than most people my age, I am not kidding. I was brisk-walking like I was in a marathon. I started to believe this guy was a runner, an athlete of some sorts. He was eccentric. He was animated. He was young at heart.

As I had the privilege to converse with him, I learned about his service in the army during World War II, sat in my condolence for losing his best friend in battle, fawned over his time as a horse rider, found hidden discoveries over our inspiration in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, reflected over our shared love for Rowling’s Harry Potter, spiraled through his two prior & current marriages, and laughed over his opinions about the differences between real food and fast food.

“Organic food is food, fast food is a product.”

I was captivated by his perspective of life. There was not a single moment of complaint. There were regrets, but no turning back. Suffering, but no bitterness. Age, but no excuse. Did I mention he was dealing with arthritis from his knees to his back? Don’t worry. He said it was from all his adventures. It was just a mere mark of his bountiful journeys. Forth into the breech, dear friends.

He saw life as an everyday adventure, and an opportunity to be thankful for what’s happened, instead of being resentful on what hasn’t. Thank the old, cherish the new. Honor the forgotten, celebrate the honed. He held a classical lense of life, but indeed a notable one.

I started reflecting over my own life about these things. The excuses I’ve made. The complaints about things that haven’t turned out to plan. Opportunities missed due to fear. Shall I say more? Please, spare me the embarrassment.

It’s motivating to experience someone with a perspective like that. A glimpse of the world through the eyes of Victor Armad. It doesn’t surprise me, however, since he is the only tour guide over 80 in London, renowned for his continued efforts and dedication since his 30s. And trust me, being a tour guide is not for the elderly…or is it? I’m not sure anymore, after meeting Victor.

Thus, I’m thankful for my brief time with him. With his wonder. His refusal to be limited. His commitment to finding hope throughout a vast horizon of forces we cannot control. But most of all, his ability to find power through weakness, and that a little drop of optimism can change the world.

“Forth and fear no darkness. Arise. Arise, riders of Rohan. Shields shall be shaken. Spears shall be splintered. A sword day, a red day, and the sun rises. Ride. Ride now. Ride for ruin, and the world ending!”

– King Theoden, The Lord of the Rings

- BG