I’m grateful for the opportunity to have been put to work at a young age. Back then, it felt like just another list of chores—litter picking, stacking chairs, pot washing. But looking back, those small tasks were teaching me something valuable, even if I didn’t realise it at the time. Every job, no matter how mundane, came with lessons in responsibility and problem-solving.
And sometimes, those lessons hit harder than others.
Take this one time on the Segway track. It was the end of a long day, and we’d just sent the last guest onto the dirt track. Everything was running smoothly—until it wasn’t. She lost control, landed awkwardly, and… let’s just say her arm wasn’t bending the way it was supposed to.
Cue panic!
Keeping her calm, calling for help, and managing the other guests was a crash course in composure. It wasn’t glamorous, but those moments teach you how to think on your feet and stay collected under pressure. They’re the kind of lessons you can’t get from a classroom or a YouTube tutorial.
But the real value wasn’t in the day-to-day jobs. It was being surrounded by a business that never really stops. I wasn’t flying the plane, but I was in the cockpit, watching, listening, and seeing how the live demo played out in real time. That’s where the biggest lessons came from.
Because things are always going wrong.
Sometimes it’s minor, like the entertainers not getting along. Other times, it’s major—like the boiler for 60 rooms deciding to give up on life.
That’s happening as I write this, by the way.
No heating. No hot water. The temperature is hovering around 4°C and will drop below freezing by sunset. With the demographic being older, it could be dangerous. Guests aren’t happy (understandably), and the team is currently debating if importing 60 heaters will solve the problem—or just trip the resort’s entire power system.
But here’s what I’ve learned watching situations like this unfold: the real skill isn’t finding the perfect fix—it’s making the best decision you can, with the tools and time you’ve got. Because at the end of the day, guests don’t see the chaos behind the curtain—they just expect the curtain to stay up.
and that’s the game. Keep the show running, no matter what’s happening backstage.
This lesson became especially important when we opened another resort in 2021. It was an insight into how processes are built from scratch—something you tend to take for granted as a guest. Take breakfast service, for example. It seems simple: food arrives, guests eat, plates disappear. But behind the scenes? It’s a ballet of strategy and logistics, from kitchen layouts to staff routes, designed to make sure no one waits too long for coffee. It’s the kind of thing you don’t notice unless you’re part of making it work.
More recently, I’ve had the chance to go undercover with my dad, visiting other resorts around the country to see if another acquisition would work. Walking through these places is like seeing a business in 3D. You’re not just admiring the lobby—you’re counting lift shafts, assessing stair access, and imagining how to keep the golf members separate from the hotel crowd. It’s details like this, often invisible to guests, that can make or break the experience for them.
The biggest takeaway? These lessons are pretty niche to hospitality—because let’s face it, nobody’s calculating stair access for elderly guests at an Ai start-up. And if there’s one universal truth I’ve learned, it’s this: Most of business is like a duck on a pond — calm above water, but paddling like crazy underneath.