I spoke with Charlie from the “five-star” locale of Melbourne Domestic Airport’s food court, waiting on a late-night flight and more than ready to complain about my own long day on the road. Luckily, I held back—because for Charlie, a seasoned bike tour guide and operations manager, long days on the road are just part of the job. Throw in the challenge of guiding a group across hundreds of kilometres in Europe, keeping spirits high, and juggling all the logistics, and my day suddenly didn’t look so tough.
After nearly a decade as a tour leader and regional coordinater, Charlie’s learned that guiding isn’t about controlling every detail. You can map out the perfect itinerary and triple-check every stop, but the real magic comes from the group itself—their energy, stories, and connections. Charlie’s approach to guiding is all about creating the space for that group dynamic to thrive and letting the experience unfold naturally so that people can disconnect from the plan and feel immersed in a new place.
How did you first get into guiding?
I grew up between Australia and the US, with occasional visits to visit family in France. In my early 20s, an opportunity came up to lead bike tours throughout France and Spain. I was young, had nothing holding me back, and was ready to see the world. I dove all in.
Why bike tours specifically?
Cycling is my favorite way to see the world. It started in university when some friends roped me into a cross-country charity ride from Seattle to Washington D.C., raising money for children with disabilities. We’d stop along the way to meet local organisations and participate in local parties and fundraisers. There’s something special about rolling into a small town you’ve never heard of, being received warmly with a rich local culture and good food. You know you might never be back so you have to make the most of it and take it all in. That mix of cycling, adventure, and the rush of discovery made bike touring feel like a natural fit. That trip set me on this path.
Talk me through your first tour. What was that like, and any big lessons from the experience?
Funny enough, my first tour was the only one where I saw a guest get kicked off. I was on a “training trip,” shadowing three seasoned guides, learning the ropes with a big group of about 24 people. But one guest really crossed a line, and the guides had to make the call to send him packing. It was eye opening. It made me realise that as a guide, you’re responsible for the entire group, not just one person. It taught me that guiding isn’t just about showing people around and handling logistics; it’s about leadership, making hard calls, and ensuring everyone’s safe while having a good time. I’ve never had to ask anyone to leave since, but that first trip gave me the confidence and taught me lessons that have shaped my approach to guiding ever since.
It taught me that guiding isn’t just about showing people around and handling logistics; it’s about leadership.
That sounds like a baptism by fire! What’s the hardest part of running tours?
It definitely was! The toughest part, especially at the beginning, was handling the pressure to meet guests’ high expectations. These are people who’ve saved for years, sometimes paying over $1,000 a day, so I felt like I had to deliver value for every single dollar. I’m glad that stress pushed me to work hard, study cultural talks, and triple-check equipment quality. But over time, I realised the real value wasn’t just being across all the details. I was being performative at the expense of connecting with my guests and letting their unique interests drive the experience.
What’s it like planning and preparing for extensive bike tours?
It’s a lot of coordination—especially when you’re off the grid for months at a time touring. You can have the gear, the guides, and the guests, but what brings the tour together is the stops and the local suppliers you work with. So supplier communication is a big thing. With big hotels, we’d set a routine: a year out, we’d block rooms, then adjust bookings six months out, even shifting guests around to keep everything full. By three months, it was mostly all locked in. That kept things smooth with the bigger suppliers, but with the smaller, unique stops, it’s a different story.
How so?
Because we focused on creating really local and authentic experiences, some stops were as personal as a meal at a countryside home in France. Here, “supplier” might just mean a local family. Formal contracts and emails didn’t work—this was about relationships. We’d call, ask about the family, and chat about what’s in season. It wasn’t just a lunch; we were bringing guests into a friend’s home, where they’d share a meal, eat garden-fresh veggies, and feel truly welcomed. That’s the difference real relationships make—it turns a stop into an experience guests never forget.
Looking back, what’s something you wish you’d known when you first started?
I wish I’d known that guiding isn’t just about nailing the logistics. Sure, getting the details right matters, but guiding is really about creating a space where the experience can unfold naturally. Early on, I was all about the details—planning, prepping, double-checking—to make sure everything ran perfectly. But so much of the value is already built into the groundwork: the initial planning, the pre-trip communication, all of it sets the stage. The real magic happens when you let the group’s unique energy and connection take the lead, and that’s what guiding is really about.
The real magic happens when you let the group’s unique energy and stories take the lead, and that’s what guiding is really about.
Now for the final question: what was your go-to icebreaker for getting the group warmed up?
I’m a big foodie, so before the welcome dinner, I’d start with a food-themed icebreaker during pre-drinks. I’d kick it off by sharing a favourite dish from home and something local I couldn’t wait to try. Then, I’d get everyone to jump in—share a dish they’re passionate about, a recipe they love, or a food that gets them excited. Food has a way of bringing people together, and it was like a switch flipped—people’s faces lit up, mouths watering as they swapped stories and favourite dishes. It got everyone buzzing for the Welcome Dinner!
