Legends, lies, and licensed guides.
Every cobblestone street seems to have a story these days—at least according to the stranger with a megaphone leading your walking tour. Heritage travel—driven by a new generation of tourists seeking authentic connections with the past—is among the fastest-growing segments worldwide, according to Grand View Research. But in an era when myths travel faster than facts and TikTok “historians” moonlight as guides, travelers face a growing global challenge: how to separate the master storytellers from the snake-oil salesmen.
One need only look at the removal of historical facts from National Parks—ordered by the highest levels of the U.S. government—to see it happening. President Donald Trump signed an executive order last March directing federal agencies to review how American history is portrayed at National Park Service sites. Most recently, that included the removal of an exhibit about President George Washington’s ownership of slaves at Independence National Historical Park. A federal judge later ordered them returned, and in February, they were reinstalled. However, whitewashing persists.
“There’s an attempt from a political viewpoint to change what Americans are able to learn about history, to censor the park services. It’s dreadful,” says Dr. Gerald Prokopowicz, a history professor at East Carolina University.
And it’s not just an American problem. In some destinations, the battle over who gets to tell the story has escalated to near–Sharks versus Jets theatrics. In Manchester, England, there’s an all-out tour guide turf war taking place with accusations of guide-on-guide content theft, harassment, and intimidation, according to The Mill, Manchester’s local paper.
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“It’s absolutely more important than ever for people to do some research into the guide companies they’re hiring,” Prokopowicz says.
Here’s what travelers can do to ensure the stories they hear are rooted in fact rather than folklore.
Examine the Information
Take it from a woman who has been touring people at Gettysburg National Military Park for 24 years, you don’t want a guide who is fuzzy on the details.
“Gettysburg marks the decisive turning point of the American Civil War—the moment when the trajectory of the conflict changed,” says Renae MacLachlan, a certified Gettysburg Battlefield guide.
For that reason, the site of the Union victory—a vast, 6,000-acre memorial where the North and South clashed in a battle that left some 50,000 casualties—demands an extraordinary level of expertise from those entrusted to interpret it. In fact, it was the Gettysburg veterans themselves who grew weary of watching charlatans recount their stories inaccurately, MacLachlan says.
Thus, the arrival of the Gettysburg Battlefield exam, which began in 1915. Becoming a licensed guide requires passing an exam, and not a perfunctory multiple-choice test. Widely regarded as one of the most difficult interpretive tests in the country, it is intentionally rigorous. Mastering the intricate details (for example, name the four brigade commanders in Lafayette McLaw’s Division) of the Battle of Gettysburg is only the first step. Candidates must also demonstrate the ability to synthesize those details into clear, compelling narratives for the public—a practicum that ultimately determines who earns the privilege of telling the story. Ninety percent of applicants fail.
“I have to be able to answer people’s questions like, ‘Why the heck did we end up here? And how did we get out of it? And is it a danger again?’ Which is on a lot of people’s minds now,” says MacLachlan. She believes the exam exists to uphold a guiding principle: that Gettysburg must be interpreted without praise or censure—a mark of authenticity visitors can count on.
Ask an Expert
Geoff Levett, a London historian, underwent a similar licensing process to earn his place among the city’s rarefied Blue Badge guides. Despite holding a PhD in history, Levett spent 18 months immersed in the granular sweep of London’s 2,000-year past.
“Only Blue Badge guides are allowed to tour people through sites like Westminster Abbey, the Tower of London, and St. Paul’s Cathedral,” he says—a distinction that ensures not just any umbrella-wielding raconteur can pass through those doors.
Public speaking under pressure is central to the evaluation, a particularly daunting hurdle for Levett, who enrolled in the course in part to confront a lifelong stutter. During training, he recalls, instructors would abruptly interrupt candidates’ mid-presentation in St. Paul’s and bark “Stop!” if their delivery faltered or their facts wavered. But that military-level discipline forced him to become singular in his work. When a visitor takes a Levett tour, they can trust that he’s more than prepared.
“A Blue Badge guide has the ability to improvise. If you employ us, we’re not going to give you a standard tour,” Levett says. “If someone comes to me and says, ‘I want to tour Westminster Abbey,’ I’ll say, ‘What’s your particular interest? Do you like history, theater, the Tudors? Then I build up a picture that will make the client happy.”
Verify the Certified Authority
That’s the power of a credential like a Licensed Battlefield Guide or a Blue Badge. But even in places where no license is required, many guides choose to undergo rigorous training or certification on their own, a mark savvy travelers should look for.
For instance, Tyler Page Wright Friedman, owner and operator of Walk & Talk Charleston, a Charleston, South Carolina, tour company, only hires guides who have passed the city’s once-compulsory 500-page written tour guide exam, even though the United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit ruled unanimously in 2020 that Charleston violated the First Amendment by making it illegal for anyone to give paid tours of the city without obtaining a special license.
“I have made a commitment to the tour association, which operates the Palmetto Guild—a professional association committed to sharing the authentic history of Charleston—to only hire certified guides for my business because it shows credibility to my audience,” Friedman says. She passed the same test herself in 2018, when it was still required, and says it ensures her guides have the depth of knowledge necessary to properly showcase the 350-year-old city.
Look for Well Read to Be Well Told
For East Carolina University public history professor Dr. Gerry Prokopowicz, a license alone does not make a great guide, however. Before handing over his money, he’d rather see evidence of deep and sustained study—a well-worn familiarity with the archives, not just a rubber stamp on a certificate.
Prokopowicz, who hosts the podcast Civil War Talk Radio and gives historical tours himself, says, “The company I work with has a recommended reading list.” The idea is to provide travelers with some pre-knowledge prior to their tour while also signaling the study of the guides themselves.
Friedman does the same on her site, offering Charleston visitors links to books, podcasts, and articles on the city to help encourage continued learning before and after her tours.
Face Facts
But sometimes no amount of Yelp deep-diving or website sleuthing will tell you what you actually need to know. In those cases, says Will Cairns, owner of Active England, a luxury U.K.–based walking and cycling tour company, the only real solution is to go straight to the source.
“If you’re going to be with a guide for a week or more, you need to make a video call before booking,” he says. It’s the quickest way to test chemistry and make sure the person leading you through a place is someone you’ll genuinely enjoy spending time with—and who truly knows their stuff.
Cairns adds that the call is also a smart moment to assess a guide’s depth of resources. When clients book with Active England, for example, they’re paired with the same guide throughout the trip. But if that guide recognizes that a site—say, Blenheim Palace—demands deeper specialization, they’ll bring in a local expert to lead that portion of the tour, ensuring guests get the most informed experience possible.
Take it from a woman who once found herself held hostage on a rural West Virginia tour with a guide who couldn’t quite remember why the ghost town was a ghost town—but could, with startling authority, identify every carved bear statue in a tri-county radius. By the third ursine cameo, I knew the subtle differences between a “welcoming bear” and a “fishing bear,” but remained unclear on, say, the collapse of the local coal economy. Looking back, I realize I should have done all of the above before booking.
The thing is, the child-in-charge couldn't tell an accurate story about the past to save his life. He does well just to know the approximate location of the United States.