A Brief Coffee Table Chat |The Journey of SCARCITY One-on-One with Jesús Parrilla Luxury has always been a mirror of its time. Once defined by abundance, excess, and status, today it is being redefined by absence, subtlety, and what is quietly slipping away. In this Coffee Table Chat, Jesús Parrilla invites us to rethink luxury through the lens of scarcity—not as deprivation, but as a return to what is rare and essential. From the silence of an untouched forest to the warmth of a fire at the right moment, from fruit picked straight from the tree to the rare gift of an unfiltered conversation, scarcity becomes the new compass of value. This dialogue explores how hospitality can move beyond creating spectacles to protect instead and reveal life’s most fragile luxuries: silence, awe, and presence. What follows is not just a reflection on travel, but a manifesto for how we might care for the rarest resources of all—those that cannot be manufactured, only safeguarded. 1. Luxury used to mean abundance, excess, or status. Yet today, many of those associations feel outdated. In your view, how is the definition of luxury changing, especially as simple, elemental experiences become harder to find? Luxury today is defined by scarcity. Access to raw nature, silence, clean skies, fresh air, and unfiltered conversations are no longer abundant: they are totally disappearing. And as they become harder to find, their value grows. For me, luxury is also contextual precision: the right thing at the right time. A towel when you are wet. A fire when you are cold. Water when you are thirsty. A piece of fruit fresh from the tree. What used to be everyday is now rare, and that rarity is what makes it precious. 2. There’s a paradox in how the simplest things—like watching a sunrise or eating fruit straight from the tree—can feel more valuable than any designed luxury. Why do you think those small moments hold such power for us? Their value comes from their scarcity. The more technology fills our lives, the rarer it becomes to sit with a sunrise, to eat fruit straight from the tree, or to have a conversation with no phone in sight. These are luxuries not because they are extravagant, but because they are slipping away. Hospitality has a responsibility to create conditions where people can rediscover those fleeting luxuries before they vanish completely. 3. Natural spaces are becoming rarer. How should we treat that? We must treat it with reverence, precisely because of its scarcity. A dark sky without light pollution, a coastline without noise or development, a forest untouched; these are no longer common. Scarcity should not push us toward exclusivity, but toward care. When we enter these places, we should remember we are borrowing something rare. And what is rare must be protected, not consumed. 4. Looking ahead, when future travelers think about luxury, what do you believe they will value most? That the truest luxuries will be the scarcest ones: silence, breath, awe, presence. A clear sky. Fresh air. The sounds of nature. These cannot be manufactured, and they are already becoming harder to find. The role of hospitality is not to add more distractions, but to protect and reveal these scarce gifts so travelers can experience them fully and understand their fragility.

A Brief Coffee Table Chat |The Spirit of EXPLORATION One-on-One with Willie Parra For Willie Parra, travel has never been about ticking off destinations—it has always been about following curiosity wherever it leads. From his earliest days, inspired by Jacques Cousteau and driven by a fearless urge to dive into every lagoon and explore every creature, his journey has been shaped by wonder. Along the way, he has taken on countless roles—salesman, butcher, night watchman, cameraman, carpenter—each one adding a layer of grit and humility to his path. What ultimately defined his calling was the discovery that adventure could be both a career and a way of life. In this Coffee Table Chat, Willie reflects on the influences that sparked his love of exploration, the turning points that transformed his professional journey, and how his philosophy of traveling without expectation continues to shape the way he engages with the world. His story is a reminder that travel, at its best, is not about luxury or status but about openness, resilience, and the joy of discovery. 1. What was your biggest early influence that sparked your desire to travel? For as long as I can remember, I’ve been passionate about anything unusual… I was lucky to have a close-knit, active family who lived in the countryside and didn’t rely on the classic 8-to-6 office job. Although they were never very outdoorsy people, they were the “let’s go camping, but we’ll stay 50 meters from the car” type… In any case, they never conditioned my constant desire to dive into any lagoon I found or to touch any animal or creature that appeared. My obsession with not missing a single episode of “The Underwater World of Jacques Cousteau” lit that flame in my heart and mind: I had to do it, I had to see these places sooner or later. I’ve been lucky enough to have fulfilled most of those initial dreams… 2. What was the most important turning point in your professional travel career? I’ve done so many things in my life, career-wise. I come from a middle-class family, with an average income and no social connections to help me, so after graduating from high school, the idea of ​​going to college to study Marine Biology was just a dream; there wasn’t enough money to pay for it, so I started working at 18 to be able to pay for it myself. I’ve worked as a clothing salesman, a butcher, a night watchman, a tour driver, an underwater cameraman, a carpenter, and more! But the moment everything changed was precisely when I went to college on my own and discovered a whole new world of activities. That’s when the company VERTICAL invited me to work with them as a Junior Mountain Guide. The rest of my story is something to sit down and talk about over a good wine… 3. How has your approach to travel evolved over the years? I’ve embraced every travel opportunity as a completely new path, without prejudice, without high expectations, just waiting for it to open up and surprise me—for better (ideally) or for worse. It doesn’t matter in the long run. Everything teaches you and prepares you for the next step. I approach it with humility, meaning I arrive receptive and energized. I’m eager to discover the essence of each location, its natural surroundings, and its people. I apply this approach both in urban areas, such as a new European country, and in more remote corners, such as Antarctica or the Arctic. I love traveling and exploring the unknown.  

A Brief Coffee Table Chat |Between Structure & Soul One-on-One with Julieta Chan The hospitality industry is undergoing a profound transformation. Once defined by status and profitability, it now faces an ethical crossroads—where the question is not just how we build, but why we build, and for whom. In this Coffee Table Chat, Julieta Chan invites us into that reflection, sharing her journey of navigating complexity while holding onto purpose. Her perspective is rooted in both pragmatism and vision: the belief that structure—those often invisible systems that create coherence and trust—must coexist with soul, the values and intuition that give hospitality its deeper meaning. What emerges is a portrait of leadership grounded in listening, curiosity, and compassion. For Julieta, building a company is not about selling beds but about creating the conditions for transformative experiences—moments where travelers reconnect with nature, with culture, and with themselves. 1. How has your perception of the industry evolved since joining Experiential Hospitality? This is a personal perspective, shaped by my own experiences and interpretation of what’s happening in the industry, in the world, and in the communities we serve. I believe the industry is facing a moral and ethical crossroads. Profitability has become the dominant metric, accelerated by platforms like Airbnb that opened the sector to players without a tourism background. While this brought innovation, it also disrupted governance and reshaped the commercial landscape. The pace of change has been so rapid that governments and corporations are still struggling to respond—some are searching for solutions, while others remain passive or unaware. Since joining Experiential Hospitality, my perception has remained consistent: in times of chaos, it is essential to return to the core of why we exist. For me, that purpose has never been solely about profitability (though financial sustainability matters). It has always been about connecting people to nature, to different cultures, and to themselves through meaningful experiences—creating the possibility of a more tolerant and humane world through travel. Experiential Hospitality has become the strategy I discovered—or that discovered me—to fulfill that purpose. It offers the alignment, innovation, and sense of meaning that this industry urgently needs. 2. In building internal systems for a company that values emotion and intuition, how do you balance structure with soul? Building structure is not glamorous work—it’s heavy lifting. But it is essential. Structure creates coherence, alignment, and trust across every part of the company. When I design systems or documents, I try to approach them not as rigid rules, but as tools a mentor might use to teach or to create shared understanding—something that enables the team to move together with clarity. The “soul” of the system comes from the lens through which we create it. Every framework must be tested against our values, our philosophy, and our ethical compass. If a system doesn’t serve our purpose or align with our mission, then it needs to be revised and adapted. In this way, structure doesn’t constrain us—it becomes the backbone that gives life to our vision. 3. You’ve been one of the quiet architects of Experiential Hospitality’s growth. What has surprised you most about your own growth through this journey? Earlier in my career, I worked in hotels as a front-of-house manager, ensuring systems ran smoothly and that every guest’s experience was consistently exceptional. My focus was on delivering what was already designed. Now, my role is fundamentally different. I am helping to design the “behind-the-scenes formula” itself—everything from the architecture of a lodge, to the operational strategy, to the way the guest journey is imagined from the very beginning. It’s a rare privilege to sit at the intersection of design, operations, and finance—offering feedback to architects from an operational lens, while also learning how vision gets translated into a physical space, and then ensuring a strong commercial model backs it. 4. What have you learned about leadership from working across cultures, disciplines, and geographies at Experiential Hospitality? First and foremost, to listen deeply. To clear my mind, make quiet judgments, and be fully present with others. Listening in this way is not easy, but it is the key to truly understanding what matters. Second, to stay curious. Curiosity is the foundation of learning, and one of the greatest gifts I’ve cultivated here. It pushes me to ask questions, to uncover what lies beneath, and to keep expanding my understanding through others. Finally, to practice compassion—for myself and for others. Building a company from scratch is full of challenges. We don’t always get it right the first time—or the third. In the past, I judged myself harshly for that. Today, I see vulnerability as strength. Compassion allows me to ask for help when needed and to recognize that what we are building is bold and complex. We are not selling beds; we are selling transformative experiences. That is not an easy story to tell or a simple model to execute. Compassion helps me—and us—stay grounded in patience and persistence as we work to build the global community we envision.

A Brief Coffee Table Chat | In Defense of Meaning One-on-One with Jesús Parrilla In a world where luxury is often reduced to polished surfaces and instant gratification, Jesús Parrilla reminds us that hospitality is not a checklist—it is a calling. As an expert who treats travel as a form of remembering rather than escaping, Parrilla invites us to rethink what it means to host, to journey, and to truly belong. This conversation is not about design trends or brand campaigns. It’s about defending the invisible threads—the ones that connect place to memory, silence to story, host to land. Through quiet conviction and lived experience, Parrilla reveals why feeling, not function, should be the foundation of every guest experience.  In this slow and thoughtful exchange, he speaks to the heart of what we do—and why we must continue to do it with care. You’ve regularly said that hospitality isn’t a product—it’s a worldview. How do you ensure that our spaces and services continue to stir something within, especially in an industry often driven by function over feeling We design to provoke memory, not just movement. If a space does not stir something inside you, then it has no reason to exist. The danger in hospitality today is that it has become a checklist of comforts, where utility replaces emotion, where technology and convenience dull curiosity, and superficiality often overshadows depth. For us, every scent, every silence, every surface must feel like it belongs to the story. Not ours alone, but the story of the place. We are not interested in creating what is trendy or cool. We are interested in creating what lingers. What is felt days, even months later, in quiet reflection. That requires discipline. That demands depth of perspective, not just designing. 2. In a world addicted to speed, what does it take to defend the idea that remoteness is sacred—and that the journey itself is part of the experience, not just a means to an end It takes a great deal of conviction. And a willingness to be misunderstood. Remoteness is not a logistical challenge for us. It is a spiritual decision. It reminds the traveler that effort matters. That arrival should not be instant but earned. When you strip away the shortcuts, something ancient reawakens in people. They walk slower. They observe more. They speak less. And in that slowness, they begin to belong. We are not in the business of removing the distance. We are in the business of making the distance meaningful. When the path itself becomes the teacher, then the destination becomes sacred. 3. With so many brands chasing aesthetics or clever messaging, how do you protect the soul of our storytelling—ensuring that what we say is always rooted in what we live?” The story is not the brochure. It is the way the place breathes. It is the way a local guide pronounces the name of a mountain. It is what is left unsaid in a welcome ritual. We protect our story by first making sure it is real. That it was not written at a desk but discovered on foot. Every message must come from something lived. If not, it is just decoration. We are not here to entertain. We are here to remember and to pay homage to the land and the cultures that give the place its soul. And when storytelling becomes a tool for remembering, it stops being a strategy and becomes a form of care. That is the difference. 4. With so many brands chasing aesthetics or clever messaging, how do you protect the soul of our storytelling—ensuring that what we say is always rooted in what we live?” Hosting has been reduced to service metrics. To algorithms and scripted greetings. But true hospitality cannot be automated. It is an ancient act of generosity. An offering of presence. To host is to hold space for another human being. To make them feel seen without needing to speak. To share what is local not as a spectacle, but as a gesture. We train our teams to be guardians of this ritual, not performers of it. And perhaps most importantly, we do not believe the host stands apart from the place. The host is the place. Their voice, their knowledge, their kindness carries the land’s memory forward. That is not transactional. That is sacred.

A brief Coffee Table Chat | What If Luxury Could Feel Again? One-on-One with Javier Rojas Fresh from the Hotel & Resort Design South (HRDS) event in Miami—where he served on the Advisory Board—architect and Chief Creative Officer Javier Rojas-Rodriguez returns not just with insights, but with questions that linger. What if luxury wasn’t about polish, but presence? What if design wasn’t a statement, but a conversation? In this reflection, Javier challenges the industry’s obsession with function, asking us to make room for emotion, memory, and meaning. Through the lens of Experiential Hospitality, he calls for a return to what’s deeply human—and a future of design that doesn’t just impress, but resonates. You’ve attended many conferences over the years, but this time you stood there representing, for the first time, Experiential Hospitality, a company built not just around design, but around emotion, movement, and exploration. How did that shift in lens affect the way you heard the conversations around you? It was a somewhat different experience this time. This time it wasn’t just about representing a company but about embodying a point of view, and a manifesto. In the past, I’d attend conferences thinking about space, guest experiences, construction, or strategy. This time, I was listening for emotion. For how people spoke (or didn’t) about memory, about sensory experience, about the stories behind the spaces. The conversations around me suddenly had more layers. A discussion about materials became a conversation about texture, touch, and childhood memories. A panel on guest engagement became a contemplation on anticipation and surprise. It made me realize that so many in our industry are craving deeper connections—but the industry itself is still using the language of function. With Experiential Hospitality, we’re trying to shift that language. It’s not just about how things are done, but about why and how they’re felt. And standing in that lens, I could feel the difference. 2. Coming from a career where placemaking often began with vision boards and materials, what does it feel like now to represent an analog brand where the place often comes first – and the design must listen before it speaks? It feels like a return to something deeply human. In my previous work, placemaking often began in abstraction—mood boards, materials, aspirations projected onto blank space. Now, I’m learning to approach design more like a conversation than a proclamation. The land, the community, the spirit of the place—they speak first. My role is to listen carefully, to notice what’s already there, and to shape design that feels inevitable rather than imposed. It’s less about storytelling and more about story finding. There’s a humility to it, and also a kind of liberation: the place leads, and we follow. 3. After sitting in rooms filled with conversations about scale, luxury, and innovation, what conversations do you think are still missing, or not being asked loudly enough? I think the conversations that are still missing—or not being asked loudly enough—are the ones about meaning. What does it mean to build at scale, or to create luxury, in a world where cultural and ecological fragility are escalating? We rarely interrogate the emotional, social, and environmental cost of our ambition. There needs to be more space for asking: Who is being left out of the narrative of innovation? What does luxury look like when it’s rooted in empathy, not just exclusivity? How do we measure success beyond aesthetics or ROI? The conversations that are missing are the quieter ones—about dignity, memory, cultural continuity, and restraint. And maybe those aren’t just missing—they’re intentionally avoided. So, I’d say: let’s make room for those. 4. What insights did you walk away with from these events – not just as a creative mind, but now as a brand guardian of something that challenges the norms of luxury hospitality? What struck me most was how essential intention is—both in creation and in operations. As a creative, I’ve always looked for beauty, innovation, and emotion. But also, in the role of brand guardian, those elements must also align with a deeper purpose. These events confirmed for me that the future of luxury isn’t about excess or perfection—it’s about resonance, relevance, and responsibility.

A brief Coffee Table Chat | Building with Intention and Designing for Impact One-on-One with Julieta Chan What does it take to build travel experiences that don’t just impress—but endure? In this Coffee Table conversation, Julieta Chan reflects on the questions that matter most: How can tourism become a force for regeneration? What does it mean to lead with values, not trends? And how do we design journeys that protect the places and people we claim to celebrate? Her answers are shaped by years of deep engagement—from witnessing rewilding efforts to confronting the risks of success in beloved destinations. With honesty, Julieta examines the operational and ethical dimensions of experiential hospitality, and the responsibility involved in building the future of travel. These are her reflections—anchored in purpose, and driven by the belief that travel can and must be a tool for transformation. What moment during your time in Bonito most powerfully illustrated the tension between tourism growth and environmental preservation, and how did it reshape your perspective on what truly responsible travel should look like? Bonito is widely regarded as Brazil’s flagship ecotourism destination, located in the biologically rich region of Mato Grosso do Sul. What struck me most powerfully was not a moment of conflict, but rather a model of harmony between nature and tourism. What was once predominantly an agricultural and cattle farming region is now being gradually rewilded, with former farms regenerating into forest to attract wildlife and protect crystalline rivers and springs. Rather than illustrating a tension, Bonito revealed a hopeful path—where ecotourism is not only compatible with conservation but is actively driving it. What reshaped my perspective was witnessing how private landowners, local entrepreneurs, and public institutions are aligned in building a destination identity that is both ecologically sensitive and economically viable. They are attracting the right kind of traveler—one who seeks meaning, connection, and contribution. A key insight for me was the crucial role of naturalist and adventure guides. They are the ambassadors of the land—educating travelers, ensuring respectful behavior, and weaving powerful narratives of protection and stewardship. This shows that truly responsible travel goes beyond infrastructure or rules—it’s a shared ethic, passed from host to guest, and grounded in respect for place. 2. In your keynote, you emphasized the need for regenerative travel models. After interacting with local stakeholders and exploring Bonito’s community-based efforts, what innovative local practices stood out as scalable or adaptable for other destinations? One standout example was Recanto Ecológico Rio da Prata. What impressed me was the intentionality behind the design—every element of the guest journey is built to protect the river, spark awareness, and cultivate deep respect for the ecosystem. The approach is scientific, but also deeply human. Regenerative travel starts by listening—to the land, to the people, and to the rhythms of the ecosystem. That means involving scientists, biologists, and naturalist guides from the outset. It also means working closely with local communities whose wellbeing is directly tied to the health of the environment. This level of intentional design is absolutely replicable elsewhere—but it requires humility and patience. Regeneration is not just about minimizing harm; it’s about amplifying life. That can only happen when you truly understand the place—its limits, its gifts, and its needs. 3. As someone deeply involved in shaping experiences at Experiential Hospitality, how will what you learned in Bonito influence the way we design journeys, particularly in places that are at risk of becoming the next “overloved” destinations? At Experiential Hospitality, we design immersive journeys—and with that creative power comes great responsibility. Bonito reminded me that success can carry hidden risks. If we’re good at what we do—and I believe we are—we must anticipate the long-term consequences of that success. Not just five years ahead, but twenty. We need to hold the difficult questions early: What if we succeed beyond expectations? What pressure will that put on this ecosystem, this culture, this community? And most importantly: How do we build a growth model that includes the wellbeing of the destination itself? One phrase I often return to is from Stephan Schmidheiny: “There can be no successful companies in failed societies.” In experiential travel, we’re not just selling beds—we’re creating emotional connections to places. If those places become degraded, or if local communities feel excluded or overwhelmed, then we have failed—no matter how strong our brand is. Going forward, we will integrate impact foresight into our product development. That means creating long-term protection plans, cultural preservation strategies, and shared value frameworks. Success, to us, must always include the people and places we serve.

A brief Coffee Table Chat | BETWEEN THE SEEN AND THE FELT One-on-One with Jesús Parrilla What if hospitality wasn’t something you built, but something you uncovered? In this intimate Coffee Table, Jesús Parrilla— co-founder of Experiential Hospitality—invites us into the quiet beginnings of a bold vision. From the silence of the Aconcagua Valley to the rhythms of trails and shared meals, this conversation explores the deeper why behind a company that dissolves the boundaries between architecture and land, guest and guide, comfort and courage. As the industry rushes to define “experiential,” Parrilla slows down to ask: What lingers after the journey ends? What was the moment—or series of moments—that made you realize you had to create Experiential Hospitality? In all honesty, it’s never been a single moment. It’s been a quiet accumulation: early involvement in a nascent industry, travel to remote places, long hikes that became meditations, and the silence of landscapes that asked for nothing yet gave everything. But if I had to name a place, I’d say it began in the Aconcagua Valley, in a mountain cabin I built in Chile. I was hiking and biking in the Andes almost every weekend; sometimes alone, sometimes with family. Something in me began to shift, not toward building something new but toward revealing something that already existed. This isn’t my first attempt. It’s my third. So, I have come to understand the difference between momentum and meaning. This time, I wasn’t chasing a model. I was answering a calling. 2. What personal values did you refuse to compromise on when founding the company? We lead, we don’t follow. That principle guides everything. We didn’t build Experiential Hospitality to mimic what others were doing. We built it because I believe the industry needed a deeper why. We put our people first because if the team is nourished, the guest will be too. Safety isn’t negotiable. Adventure can only be transformative if it’s rooted in care and a deep understanding of the nuances of being outdoors. We let architecture emerge from the land, not impose itself onto it. And we don’t speak about sustainability as a feature—it’s the foundation: from how we source food to how we treat water, to how we show up as neighbors. But perhaps the most sacred value is humility. When we enter a place, we do so as listeners first. The land has its own story. Our role is not to overwrite it, but to learn how to belong within it. 3. Was there a gap in the hospitality industry that frustrated you enough to want to fill it? What was missing? I wouldn’t call it frustration. It was more like a quiet observation that kept returning. The gap I saw was subtle but profound: a disconnect between what happens within the hotel and what happens beyond it. Many brands have mastered the indoors. But when the guest steps outside, the spell breaks. The experience becomes fragmented, outsourced, transactional, and often underwhelming. I wanted to build a hospitality company where there is no line between inside and out—where what you feel in the lobby flows seamlessly into what you feel on the trail, at the table, or around a fire. Too often, we obsess over the tangible: thread counts, square footage, wine lists. But the soul of travel lives in the intangible—the sense of awe, of enlightenment, of grounding, of discovery. That’s the space we aim to hold. 4. How do you define “experiential” in a world where that word is now everywhere? For us, “experiential” isn’t a buzzword. It’s a responsibility. It means unlocking what’s felt but not always seen—the wind patterns of a valley, the ritual behind a local dish, the pace of life in a place that’s never rushed to meet the world. Being experiential means designing with the senses and the spirit in mind. It means curating not just activities, but alignments—between people and place, between past and present. In a world rushing toward the next “experience,” we ask: What are you remembering? What are you taking home? What are you reconnecting with? If the answer echoes beyond the itinerary, then we’ve done our work.

A brief Coffee Table Chat | MODELING BEYOND THE NUMBERS One-on-One with Javier Rojas From childhood road trips through the Mexican countryside to bold academic choices that challenged convention, Javier Rojas-Rodriguez has always approached travel as a path to deeper understanding. In this conversation, he reflects on the experiences that reshaped his view of design and hospitality, and how letting go of structure led to a more immersive, transformative way of moving through the world. What was your biggest early influence that sparked your desire to travel? My desire to travel was first sparked during childhood, on long road trips with my family across the Mexican countryside. Those journeys left a lasting impression on me. I remember sitting by the car window for hours, quietly observing the world as it passed by—the shifting landscapes, the textures of the terrain, the way the colors and light would subtly change from one region to the next. Even then, I was drawn to the idea that every place held its own story, rhythm, and character. Those early experiences didn’t just inspire a love of travel—they awakened a deep curiosity about how people live, how environments shape culture, and how beauty reveals itself in unexpected ways. That curiosity has stayed with me ever since. 2. What was the most important turning point in your professional travel career? Ironically, the most important turning point in my professional journey was choosing to leave a secure and rewarding job in order to pursue a postgraduate degree. I had been fortunate to receive an offer from an Ivy League university in the US—a path that would have seemed like the obvious next step. But instead, I chose something far less conventional: I turned it down and enrolled at The Berlage Institute in the Netherlands. The Berlage wasn’t a typical academic environment. It was more of a laboratory for ideas—a space that encouraged critical thinking, cross-disciplinary collaboration, and questioning the status quo. I was suddenly surrounded by architects, urbanists, and designers from all over the world who were intensely curious, skeptical of easy answers, and passionate about reshaping how we think about cities, landscapes, and the built environment. That time fundamentally reshaped the way I understood design—not just as a profession, but as a cultural and political act. I began to see travel, place-making, and hospitality not just as industries, but as powerful tools for storytelling, connection, and transformation. It shifted my focus from aesthetics and logistics to narrative and experience—how places feel, how they unfold, how they resonate long after the visit ends. That decision—to step away from the expected and embrace the experimental—set the tone for everything that followed in my career. It gave me the confidence to seek out the extraordinary, to stay curious, and to always look beyond the obvious. It taught me that the most meaningful journeys often begin when you leave the map behind. 3. How has your approach to travel evolved over the years? My approach to travel has transformed profoundly over time. In the beginning, it was all about structure and certainty. I was driven by to-do lists, guidebooks, and a clear sense of what I was supposed to see, eat, and experience in each destination. Travel was about maximizing time, checking off the “must-sees,” and feeling a sense of accomplishment for having covered the terrain. But over the years, I began to realize that the most meaningful moments rarely happened according to plan. I slowly let go of the rigidity and embraced a more open, intuitive way of traveling. Now, I deliberately avoid over-scheduling. I leave space for spontaneity. I wander. What I cherish most now is the feeling of being a stranger in a strange land—not knowing the rules, not speaking the language fluently, not having a map for what comes next. That discomfort is no longer something I try to avoid; it’s something I seek. It sharpens my senses. It humbles me. It reminds me how much there is to learn and unlearn. I’ve found that the most transformative travel experiences happen in the in-between moments—in the detours, delays, and unplanned encounters. Whether it’s getting lost in a new city, navigating a challenge with humor and patience, or simply sitting still and absorbing the rhythm of a place, I’ve come to value depth over breadth, presence over productivity. Travel, for me, has evolved from being a curated collection of highlights into a process of immersion, reflection, and growth. It’s no longer about conquering a place—it’s about being changed by it.

A brief Coffee Table Chat | BUILDING FROM THE GROUND UP One-on-One with Julieta Chan Building Experiential Hospitality from scratch has been a dance between creativity and resilience for Julieta Chan. Over the past year, challenges have been invitations to innovate, shaping a brand rooted in authenticity and purpose. Reflecting on this journey, Julieta highlights the importance of staying true to the brand’s essence, aligning every detail with its values, and fostering connections that prioritize people, planet, and community. It’s been about much more than building a company—it’s been about building a philosophy. 1.  LOOKING BACK AT YOUR FIRST YEAR WITH EXPERIENTIAL HOSPITALITY, WHAT HAS BEEN THE MOST UNEXPECTED LESSON OR CHALLENGE THAT SHAPED YOUR PERSPECTIVE ON THE COMPANY’S VISION AND OPERATIONS? Challenges have been a constant—almost expected—when building a company from scratch. But there’s something beautiful about that. Each challenge becomes an invitation to create, to think differently, to spark new ideas. It’s been a deeply creative year. The biggest lesson? Attitude is everything. Learning to breathe, stay grounded, and keep a clear head in moments of uncertainty is harder than it sounds. But trusting the team and the process has made all the difference. 2. EXPERIENTIAL HOSPITALITY IS IN A UNIQUE POSITION AS A STARTUP REDEFINING OUTDOOR HOSPITALITY.  OVER THE PAST YEAR, HOW HAS YOUR EXPERIENCE SHAPED YOUR UNDERSTANDING OF WHAT IT TAKES TO BUILD A BRAND THAT STANDS OUT IN THIS INDUSTRY? I’ve realized that memorable brands aren’t meant to please everyone—they’re meant to stand firmly in their truth. Creating a brand is like shaping a living being with its own personality, values, and worldview. Every decision, every detail has to align with its essence. It’s surprisingly easy to drift from that core, and doing so risks diluting the purpose. This year taught me that building a brand—and fiercely protecting its soul—is an ongoing act of intention. I’d never done that before, and it’s been one of the most profound lessons. 3. IF YOU COULD SHARE ONE DEFINING MOMENT FROM THIS PART YEAR THAT REAFFIRMED YOUR DECISION TO BE PART OF THIS COMPANY, WHAT WOULD IT BE AND WHY? It all comes back to values. The moment I sat with the creators and investors and we aligned on the deeper why of this work—recognizing people, planet, and community as equally valuable as profit, and as essential to the traveler experience—that’s when I knew I was in the right place. I’m investing my energy in something that reflects what I believe the world truly needs: impact over extraction, connection over consumption. That clarity of purpose is what anchors me here.

A brief Coffee Table Chat |regeneration, conservation & the power of travel One-on-One with Jesús Parrilla What happens when a traveler becomes a guardian? In this intimate conversation, Jesús Parrilla invites us to rethink the role of travel in a rapidly changing world. From restoring wetlands to revitalizing traditions, he speaks to a future where tourism heals rather than harms—and where every journey has the power to regenerate. Pull up a seat at the Coffee Table and explore how crises can become catalysts, landscapes can come back to life, and travelers can become agents of change. WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT THE FUTURE OF TRAVEL, WHAT EXCITES YOU THE MOST? What excites me is the shift that’s happening—slowly but surely. People are beginning to understand that travel isn’t just about sightseeing; it’s about meaning. The best journeys aren’t about checking boxes—they’re about transformation, about deep connection with nature, culture, and oneself. The future belongs to experiences that heal the land, restore ecosystems, honor traditions, and leave travelers forever changed and inspired. I want to see more projects that act as catalysts for regeneration, where tourism isn’t an extractive force but a restorative one. That’s the direction we need to go. 2. IS THERE ANY INSPIRATION OUT THERE IN THE WORLD THAT GIVES YOU HOPE FOR THIS KIND OF TRAVEL? Absolutely. There are many inspiring examples of conservation and regenerative travel, and we don’t have to look as far as Africa to find them. Just take the United States—look at Ted Turner, for example. What he has done to regenerate land across different parts of the country is remarkable. His work in Northern and Southern New Mexico stands out as a masterclass in large-scale conservation. He didn’t just acquire land—he healed it. He restored native grasses, reintroduced wildlife, and proved that regeneration isn’t just possible—it’s essential. That’s the kind of bold vision we need more of. 3. YOU OFTEN TALK ABOUT USING TROUBLE-TURNING CRISIS INTO OPPORTUNITIES. CAN YOU GIVE AN EXAMPLE OF HOW THAT APPLIES TO CONSERVATION? Trouble is just another word for transformation waiting to happen. Look at degraded landscapes—places stripped of biodiversity and identity. That’s trouble. But within trouble lies the seed of something new—if we choose to act. A great example is the wetlands restoration projects in areas where tourism and industrial development have nearly destroyed fragile ecosystems. Instead of abandoning these places, we can invest in their revival—restoring mangroves and wildlife corridors, bringing back keystone species, and working with local communities to turn them into living laboratories of resilience. The same applies to cultural conservation. Where languages and traditions are vanishing, we have a chance to revitalize them through meaningful, immersive experiences. Travel can—and must—be a tool for healing. 4. IF THERE WAS ONE MESSAGE YOU COULD LEAVE TO THE NEXT GENERATION OF TRAVELERS, WHAT WOULD IT BE? Travel with intention. Travel with curiosity. But most of all, travel with responsibility and awareness. Every step you take leaves a mark—make sure it’s one of restoration, not depletion. Seek out places that are doing the hard work of regeneration, support the people protecting their heritage, and never forget that you are part of something bigger. The world doesn’t need more tourists. It needs more guardians.