Thirsty Pig Will Fly
Put it down to stereotype, but I have always been a planner. The desire to work as efficiently as possible runs deep in my Germanic veins; crossing things off my do list sparks joy. I have also always been attracted to the idea of “going places”. Well before joining the travel industry, I enjoyed mapping out adventures and tweaking them to perfection. I spent countless hours turning fantasy into reality, and loving every minute of it. Some would call it a match made in trip planning heaven.
Research trips are an integral and treasured part of my role as a travel planner. Whether they are the armchair kind from the comfort of my home in the Ontario woods, or mucking about in person across the pond. Right now, after almost two years since my last sniff about on an official Trufflepig mission, I feel like a sponge that’s been left sitting on the drying rack, eager to soak up the world once again.
We pride ourselves on our first hand knowledge, so I am excited to return to a place that I adore, and that I love to share with others. I’m headed to Croatia in October (with a side of Montenegro thrown in for good measure) – a place I have had a deep love affair with since I first set eyes on the glimmering Adriatic Sea many years ago.
Staying in touch with friends and partners from Zagreb to Dubrovnik and islands in between, I followed highly anticipated hotel openings from afar (like Maslina Resort in Hvar and One&Only in Portonovi), placed an online order for my favourite olive oil (from a farmer on the island of Šolta) and browsed the Croatian wine selection at my local wine store (neither great nor terrible). It all helped tide me over, but now the time has come to hit the road.
Nothing replaces first-hand experience, and how it translates to tangible expertise. The pandemic challenges how we navigate that space, our space. I am anxious and thrilled. Above all, I am thirsty, and I must quench that thirst.