I spent fifteen years in hotels and events before I designed a trip for anyone.
My first job out of college was the management training program at Loews Hotels. Their whole approach was that a hotel should belong to its city, not feel like a chain dropped into a new market, and that’s where I fell for travel that feels like the place you’re in. Jonathan Tisch, the chairman of Loews Hotels, wrote a book called Chocolates on the Pillow Aren’t Enough, and I’ve never worked any other way. The nice touches are expected. What people remember is how they were taken care of.
I grew up working at private golf clubs and restaurants, and I was in the industry before I had a reason to call it that. When I got to Temple University and found out there was an actual degree in Tourism and Hospitality Management, it was an easy decision.
In the Loews training program I rotated through every department, from housekeeping to the front desk, before running the restaurant and room service every day, and eventually ran food and beverage at a 600-room property.
After that I planned around 600 weddings and events, first with Cescaphe in Philadelphia and later with Stephen Starr Events. Cescaphe is one of the most respected event companies in Philadelphia, and I planned for every kind of family and budget. At Stephen Starr Events, every event was built from a blank page. No venues. Just a location, like the steps of the art museum or the middle of the woods, and the job of building a night there. We rented everything down to the floors and the silverware, then took it all apart when the night was over.
Those years taught me the thing I carry into every trip. The only way to make sure a trip delivers is to understand what matters to this person, in this season of their life, and then fight for it when other people are pushing another way.
Eventually the pace of events caught up with me, and I spent the next decade in healthcare sales. I kept planning trips for my family anyway, and friends kept asking: “Can you just do exactly that again, but for me?” Enough times that I finally listened. That’s where The Traveler’s Architect came from.
An architect has to understand the vision before drawing anything, and no two blueprints are the same. Neither are two trips.
— m.
Tell me about the trip