Charge of the Bus Brigade

Tour guide Rita Banning leads her charges on a 14-day "Magnificant Cities of Central and Eastern Europe" tour. (Steve Hendrix - Twp)

"Americans have become better travelers," Banning says. "They watch travel shows now and realize how much there is to see in a place, and they want to stay three or four days."

She's off the mic now, giving folks a break to nap off their lunch. She spends a lot of time "reading the coach," trying to decide how much history and chatter a particular group wants. Now it's quiet, except for Banning's frequent calls on her cellphone, lining up opera tickets in Vienna for one couple, organizing a day trip from Warsaw for a family that wants to visit their ancestral village.

Prague is sweltering when we pull up to the cavernous Diplomat Hotel, an austere but friendly four-star on a busy avenue. It's a new hotel for Banning, so while the guests bolt for their rooms, she and I walk to the local subway station. We're going to make a dry run down to the old city, where we'll be leading the group after dinner. We find the station, hunt around for an elevator and decipher the route map.

"You don't ever want to do something like this for the first time with the group behind you," she says.

Tour guides work to preserve a certain in-the-know mystique. Banning even makes a point of eating apart from her guests so no one can accuse her of captain's table favoritism. Later, at a Czech folklore and dinner show that is one of our optional Prague events, Banning, Stamfl and I sit with the other guides and drivers far from the stage.

Jeff Scott is another veteran Collette guide, crossing our path here with a Mozart tour. Like Banning, he delights in the floating lifestyle of the work, in spite of having 11-year-old twin daughters at home in Rhode Island.

"I'm a total Gemini," Scott says while Banning is off organizing a sugar-free dessert for a diabetic guest. "I basically need to be with people all the time or I'm lost."

Banning, too, thrives on the bustle. When we have a free afternoon following visits to Prague's Hradcany Castle and St. Vitus Cathedral, I look forward to a little cafe time. But Banning fills every minute with optional side trips for anyone interested: crossing the Charles Bridge, shopping for amber jewelry, seeing the Infant Jesus of Prague (for some of those who had been hearing about this small altar icon since catechism class, seeing it in person meant quiet tears). I am her sweep, bringing up the rear and counting heads. Most of these people are my parents' age, and I am exhausted.

So are the two eldest ladies, who ask Banning if they can return to the hotel. She goes all tough-love on them.

"No," she says. "Why do you want to go back?"

"We're tired."

"You don't need to go back. You need a rest. Find a cafe, have lunch and a nice long sit-down. If you're still tired then, we'll get you back. But you're only going to be in Prague once."