ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, September 8, 1996 TAG: 9609090089
SECTION: TRAVEL PAGE: 6 EDITION: METRO
DATELINE: BALTIMORE
SOURCE: ELLEN GAMERMAN THE BALTIMORE SUN
When people visit Annapolis, Md. - a state capital, a military landmark, a sailing mecca and a bastion of Colonial history - most are dying for the answer to just one burning question:
Where is the bathroom?
Every summer, more than 300,000 out-of-towners spill from tour buses and the interstates, bringing with them a seemingly unending search for pit stops and a wide range of demands, queries and desires.
This time of year, the city turns from scenic haven to Ye Olde Tourist Trappe. Streets fill with swarms of sightseers led by costumed guides. Confused visitors wander into private homes in search of lost tour groups. Restaurants burst with hungry travelers willing to pay almost anything for a crab cake. Store shelves swell with souvenirs branded with one word: Annapolis.
When the tourists take over the city, the place can go a little haywire. Consider the following moments that never made it into the glossy brochures:
* After getting drenched in the rain at City Dock, several German musicians stripped off their clothes on their tour bus and wrung out their underwear by the front exit. The band members waited until they were fully clothed to resume their walking tour.
* The historic Paca House accidentally took a tour group hostage when visitors failed to hear the gentle tinkling of the closing-time bell. Trapped inside a cloistered garden and panicking, the group finally boosted its guide over a brick wall for help.
* Travelers en route to Ocean City, Md., from Pennsylvania selected Annapolis as a pit stop. Bad move. The group so overwhelmed the two historic bathrooms at the local visitors bureau, an assistant had to hand out extra rolls of toilet paper to folks in line.
Such low moments are hardly anything for these tourists to write home about - they are often so captivated by the city they barely notice minor sightseeing setbacks. Instead, they want to ask questions. Dozens and dozens of questions.
The obvious: ``Where is Annapolis?'' and ``How long is the 40-minute tour?''
The obscure: ``How many watts are in the light bulb over John Paul Jones' crypt?'' and ``The academy dormitory courtyard contains exactly how many bricks?''
The dull: ``Where is the mall?''
The disturbing: ``Where are the fighter planes?'' and ``There are great white sharks in the Chesapeake Bay, right?''
Annapolis residents endure the summer tourist season as best they can - knowing full well they won't easily find parking or a seat at a restaurant. Sometimes, even privacy is difficult to come by.
Stephanie Carroll always loved her quaint home on Cornhill Street in the downtown historic district, but she never considered it a tourist destination until some sightseers barged through her iron gates one morning. The group wandered by Carroll's cottage, poked around the courtyard and then moseyed up to her landlords' 18th-century house next door.
``My landlords said, `Can we help you?' And they answered, `No. We're just looking,''' said Carroll, who works at the Historic Annapolis Foundation. ``They were really oblivious to the fact that they were in private space. They were on their own personal tour.''
Indeed, there are many redeeming moments in the touring racket. Grateful travelers say they would be lost without the folks who traverse Annapolis on even the hottest summer days, telling the city's story on nearly a dozen different tours.
The folks in town for a conference on liquefied natural gas were gushing praise for the city. They were about to spend lots of money in its shops after munching on chicken salad stuffed in pineapple halves at a catered affair in a Colonial-era basement.
``We learned so much about Annapolis,'' said Nina Duncan, a Nashville, Tenn., resident who took a history tour because her husband was in a meeting. ``I got a little history lesson.''
Excellent guests. But sometimes not everyone responds so well to hour after hour of historic landmarks.
When 42 mostly female international exchange students, did the circuit recently, virile young midshipmen at the Naval Academy were a big hit, but the same cannot be said for the rest of the city. Sorry, State House. Apparently you weren't that interesting
While cruising under the wooden dome, tour guide Peggy Krysiak tried to win over the crowd with her Colonial-style charm, faux Scottish accent and handmade wench outfit.
But as she told a story about the Marquis de Lafayette, Dan from Denmark was trying to bite his girlfriend's finger. When she moved on to an explanation of a wooden pegged floor, Gabi from the Czech Republic accidentally dropped her pink water bottle on it. And when the ever-patient docent explained briefly how Maryland laws are made, Dan, Gabi and the gang started setting off alarms near the antique silver cases.
``I'm exhausted,'' sighed Krysiak, 41, after 2 1/2 hours of this world tour. Still, she swears she had fun.
LENGTH: Long : 103 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: 1. CHIAKI KAWAJIRI THE BALTIMORE SUN Andy Stefancik, aby CNBguide for Three Centuries Tours, goes into detail for a group of
tourists about the Naval Academy Museum in Annapolis. color
2. Sue Pitkin, in Colonial costume (left) leads a group of tourists
to Annapolis, Md., through the Naval Academy. color
3. Fellow tour guide Patty Deterding (below), takes another group
through the streets of the state capital. color
4. color map showing location of Annapolis, Md. KRT