Romance travel and Europe are the heart of my business.
I love planning a honeymoon that feels like the couple taking it. A European journey with room for a long lunch. An anniversary trip that gives two people time to remember how much they enjoy each other when nobody is asking what is for dinner.
But having a specialty sometimes gives people the impression that I have drawn a line around a section of the map.
Italy? Absolutely.
A safari? Apparently, you have wandered beyond my jurisdiction.
That is not how it works.
I also plan family vacations, cruises, and trips to places that do not appear nearly as often on my website. Some are places I have not personally visited.
No, I have not been everywhere. My passport is a work in progress, and Lucien occasionally expects his mother to come home.
But there is a difference between claiming to be an expert everywhere and knowing how to plan a trip expertly.
Much of that difference comes down to asking good questions, knowing whom to call, and understanding that the most important person in the itinerary is you.
A wish list, a friendship, and a very important video
One of my friends and most loyal clients recently sent me her Africa wish list.
She had been before, back before I became a travel advisor. She knew some of what she loved and had a clear idea of what she wanted next.
But her needs had changed.
After defeating cancer for the second time, she understood that this trip needed a slower pace. Fewer steps. More consideration for how she would feel moving through each day.
The dream was still there. The planning needed to meet her where she was now.
I took her wish list, along with everything I knew from ten years of friendship and dozens of trips planned, to the DMC partner I felt was the best fit for her solo journey.
A DMC is a destination management company: a local partner who helps bring the arrangements together on the ground. In this case, I needed someone who would understand both the trip she wanted and the care required to make it comfortable.
He came back with exactly what she had dreamed of.
Then she asked about the stairs between the main lodge and her room.
That could have been answered with “not too many” or “most guests manage fine.”
Neither would have been enough.
Instead, he sent a video of the exact path for me to show her.
She could see the walk. The steps. What the experience would actually ask of her. We could discuss something real instead of trying to translate a vague description into reassurance.
That video is one of the clearest examples I can give of why these relationships matter.
I had not personally walked that path. But I knew why she needed to see it, and I had chosen someone who would help us get the answer.
When Lucien and I go on safari, I am calling my people
Africa is on my own list, too.
I plan to take Lucien when he is old enough for the safari I want us to share. Most of the partners I have spoken with have suggested six and up as a good starting point for that particular experience—not a universal rule for every child or lodge.
And when we go, I will absolutely use one of my DMC partners.
Because if the little plane taking us into the Serengeti is not where we expect it to be, I do not want to stand there with Lucien, our bags, and a rapidly developing talent for imagining worst-case scenarios.
I want someone who has the pilot on speed dial.
Someone who knows what has changed, whom to contact, and what happens next.
On that trip, I will be a travel advisor. I will also be a mother trying to enjoy something extraordinary with her son.
I would prefer not to spend the afternoon developing a working knowledge of bush-flight operations while he asks when we are going to see the animals.
The right local support does not make me less capable. It lets me be present for the reason we went.
I know what it means to be the person who answers
I have got out of bed at three in the morning in North Carolina because a train delay meant my clients missed their ferry in Napoli.
At that moment, nobody needs a thoughtful essay about the unpredictability of transportation.
They need another ferry. Or a car. They need to know where to go and who is expecting them.
I have been able to call on contacts to get them onto a new ferry or have a car there within the hour. That is not a promise that every disruption has a one-hour solution. It is an example of what becomes possible when you know whom to call.
I can also get on the phone with your hotel in Lucerne when you have sprained your ankle on the slopes and explain that your needs have changed.
In German, because I speak it.
These moments rarely make the prettiest social media posts. There is no flattering lighting at three in the morning, and nobody needs a photograph of me negotiating transportation in my pajamas.
But they are part of the job.
In places where I do not have that depth of local knowledge, language ability, or direct contacts, my DMC partners help extend the support I can offer.
Even an advisor who knows a destination well cannot personally be everywhere at once. Knowing the place and having trusted people physically there are two different advantages. I want my clients to benefit from both whenever possible.
I am still the one telling them about you
Bali is another example.
My clients often want continuity: the same person leading their tours and getting them where they need to go, rather than starting every morning with a new introduction.
So I work with partners who can arrange that.
But I am still the one explaining who you are.
Your food allergies. Your love of a dry rosé. The fact that your new spouse’s favorite flowers are peonies.
I am sharing the details that help the trip feel like yours, while my partner helps determine what is possible locally.
I do not just forward your names with a note that says, “Lovely people. Please provide vacation.”
The conversations we have matter. So do the things I learn after planning several trips for you: when you need a little breathing room, which experiences excite you, and what sounds wonderful on paper but will probably leave you exhausted by Thursday.
That understanding travels with the itinerary.
My experience is not limited to my own suitcase
Of course firsthand experience matters.
I love being able to tell you what I thought of a neighborhood, a meal, or a particular journey. But my experience is not the only firsthand knowledge I can draw on.
Through my Fora and Virtuoso affiliations, I have colleagues, destination specialists, and supplier relationships to turn to.
I can ask someone who has recently stayed at a property which room they would choose again. Whether the transfer was comfortable in practice. Whether the experience suited the family they were traveling with—or would be better for a couple.
Then I research, verify, and work out how that information applies to you.
I will also tell you where it comes from.
“I have been there.”
“A trusted colleague recently stayed there.”
“My local partner recommends this, and here is why.”
Those can all be useful answers. They should not be disguised as the same answer.
My friend did not need me to pretend I had inspected her lodge. She needed me to understand her concern and get her the information that would help her feel comfortable going.
A convincing itinerary is not necessarily a workable one
I have had clients tell me AI described somewhere as an “easy day trip” when getting there would consume most of the day.
Apparently, the algorithm had arranged a private helicopter and neglected to include it in the budget.
The destination might be wonderful. The proposed day might still be a terrible idea.
I want to know what happens between leaving your room and arriving at the experience. The connections. The waiting. The distance from the station. The return journey.
And whether you will still be enjoying yourself by the time someone suggests lunch.
A Google search can start the research. A ChatGPT response can offer ideas. Neither is the same as checking the logistics, asking people who are there, and deciding whether the plan makes sense for the person taking the trip.
Sometimes that means replacing an ambitious day with something simpler.
Sometimes it means asking for a video of the stairs.
And sometimes I will say, “You need someone else for this”
I have planned Alaska cruises and cruisetours combining a sailing with a guided land portion.
But if you want a remote, overland winter expedition in Alaska, I am not going to pretend those bookings have prepared me to plan it.
You want a winter trek into the Arctic wilderness?
I have questions. The first is, “why?” The second is which specialist I should introduce you to.
I do not want you getting frostbite on my watch because I confused enthusiasm with expertise.
There are trips I can confidently handle on my own, others with the right research and partners. Then there are the ones where the best thing I can do is help find an advisor with the experience you need.
Your vacation is not the place for my ego.
I want you to trust my “yes” because you know I am willing to say, “Let me investigate,” or, “I know someone who would be a better fit.”
Bring me the trip you are dreaming about
You do not need to find your exact destination on my website before asking whether I can help.
Europe and romance travel are where much of my heart lives. They are not the boundaries of my business.
Tell me about the safari. The honeymoon in Bali. The family cruise. The journey you want to take now that life, or your needs, look different.
I will bring the research, the relationships, and an honest understanding of what I can do.
I will also bring my attention to you.
The person who wants fewer stairs but still wants the adventure. The couple who wants a familiar guide. The traveler standing at a ferry terminal, wondering what happens next.
I do not have to have been everywhere to take looking after you seriously.
I need to listen, choose the right people, ask the questions that matter, and stay involved—from the first dream all the way back home.
