hotel

The candidate is in the middle of a job interview. The selection process is almost complete, and he is about to have a conversation with the owner. Anxiety sets in, but a few breathing exercises quickly help keep his nerves under control. He takes a deep breath, knocks on the door (knock, knock—knocking on heaven’s door, just like in the Bob Dylan song), and steps inside.After a few minutes, the candidate realizes there is chemistry between them. A convivial conversation unfolds, and the resort owner—who happens to own more than a hundred companies—makes an unexpected remark.“Oh, don’t struggle anymore. You’ve already been selected. Do you know why?”The candidate scrambles to think of something smart to say about his résumé, but the owner beats him to it:“You are an expert in family business.”It was the first time the candidate had ever heard such a thing. Little did he know, it would become a recurring theme throughout his career.His first steps in resort management had been within his own family’s business. He remembers those early days vividly, as if they were yesterday—the long lunch hours where different generations gathered around the same table. At the center sat the family patriarch, his great-uncle, surrounded by relatives, all engaged in lively conversation. Some of the fondest memories came from those shared meals, including one particularly amusing incident. His great-uncle, afflicted by severe deafness, had failed to hear the repeated warnings about a fly in his soup. Oblivious, he had swallowed it with satisfaction, leaving the rest of the family in stunned silence before breaking into laughter.But beyond the anecdotes, one undeniable truth about family businesses remains: conflict is inevitable. In my experience working with several family-run companies—including my own—I have learned that disagreements are ever-present. The only way to navigate them successfully is through consensus.Unfortunately, I lacked the necessary experience to apply this formula to my own family business at the time. However, I was later able to help many others. In one particular case, I worked with a second-generation family-run resort where a dispute over expansion plans had driven siblings apart. By guiding them toward a structured negotiation process, helping them define roles, and reinforcing their shared vision, I saw firsthand how consensus can turn conflict into progress.Family businesses are complex, but they also hold incredible potential. They thrive on trust, history, and resilience. When managed with clear communication and mutual understanding, they can last for generations. And, as I’ve learned, sometimes, an outsider’s perspective—one shaped by personal experience—can make all the difference.

The entrepreneur and CEO of a hotel company has a “brilliant” idea: to take the board members—each representing various investment funds—on a journey to visit the site of one of their investments. They all share the same van, with a professional driver skillfully navigating the winding roads toward their destination.A lively conversation unfolds, filled with laughter and camaraderie. To an observer, the atmosphere among the board members would seem unmistakably warm and collegial. The CEO, feeling buoyed by the positive energy, is even tempted to break into an old-school song.But then, the mood shifts. As the van rounds a bend, an imposing structure emerges in the distance—two towering edifices dominating the landscape. The CEO had been dreading this moment since they left the motorway, winding their way through endless turns. With every curve, a looming presence on the horizon had grown more distinct.A heavy silence settles over the van. No remarks are made, though they are surely expected. The CEO had championed the opening of a new resort—a stunning location, nestled in nature yet easily accessible. However, there is one significant complication: the resort is located near a nuclear plant. While the plant itself is not visible from the resort, a faint cloud always lingers over the distant hills.Resort site selection depends heavily on demand generators—those external factors that influence guest attraction. When making complex decisions like this, one must ask: does proximity to a nuclear plant enhance or hinder the hotel’s appeal? The answer lies in how reality is perceived by the target market. As hoteliers, we play a crucial role in shaping that perception.

Last Wednesday, during my online class, one of my students—who works at a hotel front desk while completing her hospitality studies—looked pale and exhausted.“How are you, Nolwenn? You look tired.”“Javier, I don’t know if I can stay in this industry…”Hearing those words was tough. As someone deeply passionate about hospitality, it struck a chord.“What happened?” I asked.“Clients can be so rude sometimes. It’s just so unfair…”Her frustration is not unique. The hospitality industry faces a persistent challenge: talent retention. Unbearably high turnover rates plague many companies. While we invest heavily in training our staff to deliver exceptional service—teaching them to anticipate needs, exceed expectations, and create memorable experiences—we often overlook an essential skill: coping with unfair criticism.Guests’ dissatisfaction is inevitable, but what happens when their frustration turns personal? When online reviews become harsh, anonymous, and even damaging? Many employees feel unprepared to handle such negativity, and the emotional toll drives them away.This issue is bigger than most realize. A study by Bradley, Sparks, and Weber (2015) in the International Journal of Contemporary Hospitality Management highlighted a direct link between negative online reviews and high levels of job abandonment and absenteeism. My own experience confirms this reality.So, what can we do? We must strengthen our efforts—not just in training employees to serve, but in equipping them with resilience. We need to reassure new talent that their passion for hospitality matters.

Mariano José de Larra, insigne literato español del XIX, describía en uno de sus artículos “Vuelva usted mañana” la depurada galbana de la que hacían gala los servidores públicos de entonces. Henos aquí un par de siglos después y se puede decir que lo que observa un ciudadano corriente, al otro lado de la ventanilla, es un paisaje que no ha cambiado gran cosa respecto del descrito por Larra.Es algo en lo que no debemos ser los únicos, pues surgen movimientos al otro lado del Atlántico, como reacción ante la desmesurada presencia de las administraciones públicas: la ya famosa motosierra del presidente Milei, o el frenesí adelgazante del presidente Trump y su coadyuvante Elon Musk.Y la verdad es que las organizaciones, especialmente las públicas -como dijo aquella política “es que el dinero público no es de nadie” (sic)- tienden a engordar como los humanos inactivos, y con gran facilidad crean primero el cargo y luego la función. Al respecto existe un proverbio muy oportuno en lengua inglesa que dice: “too many cooks spoil the broth”, o demasiados cocineros estropean el caldo. Es algo que tenemos que reconocer los actores del sector de la hospitalidad, pero que muy bien puede extenderse a otros sectores.En fin, quiero creer, que mi admirado Larra, se suicidase en verdad por amor, como romántico absoluto que era, y no como a veces se me ocurre pensar envuelto en una maraña, una espiral sin fin de procedimientos burocráticos como los que ahora siguen poniendo trabas a la libre empresa y por tanto al crecimiento económico.

“Hotelie” así nos llaman a los graduados salidos de las grandes escuelas hoteleras del mundo, como en mi caso de la Cornell University School of Hotel Administration. Tras muchos años desempeñando puestos ejecutivos en la industria hotelera y creando empresa, estoy en una nueva etapa dedicado a la consultoría y la enseñanza (hrmdashboard.es).El otro día un amigo abogado me dice que en un evento compartió mesa y mantel con un funcionario de hacienda. Su interlocutor, esbozando una sonrisa contenida, le indica en cierto momento que cuando tiene delante un autónomo lo que en verdad ve es un defraudador en potencia (sic).Mi amigo encajó el golpe con tristeza y no respondió.La verdad es que la forma de pensar del señalado funcionario responde a un atavismo social que en España viene de siglos atrás, muy ligado a las consideraciones culturales del catolicismo de otros tiempos.En fin, os confieso que como autónomo que he sido muchos años tengo un auténtico complejo de buey. La sociedad española puede representarse, en esta materia, como un carro tirado por bueyes, que son los autónomos y sus trabajadores, y los que van cómodamente encima del carro: los representantes de la economía no productiva, funcionarios no esenciales, que dependen del trabajo de los bueyes, pero no por ello dejan de darles con la vara para que no se desmanden, ni de hacer chanza de su papel social.

Por lo general, un Resort es un hotel que cuenta con servicios de ocio y diversas instalaciones para el descanso y el disfrute del huésped. Esto quiere decir que, además de las habitaciones, el comedor y otros espacios que suelen tener la mayoría de los establecimientos hoteleros, un resort dispone de prestaciones adicionales.

Un hotel de lujo se considera un hotel que proporciona una experiencia de alojamiento de lujo para el huésped. No hay estándares establecidos (como estrellas) para hoteles de lujo. A menudo, los hoteles de 4 o 5 estrellas se describen a sí mismos como «de lujo».

Una villa es un edificio de una sola planta con un patio exterior y un jardín delantero o terraza. Pueden estar adosadas a otra villa cercana o tener al menos una pared compartida. Las villas tienen una larga historia que se remonta al Imperio Romano. De hecho, estas casas se conocen como “villas romanas”. Se construían sobre todo en las fincas rurales de los romanos de clase alta (ricos). Seguro que has oído hablar de las villas de estilo toscano, que se han popularizado en toda Europa. En aquella época, la villa podía tener exquisitas piscinas, jardines, tierras de cultivo y otras estructuras a su alrededor. Hoy en día, las villas siguen siendo más comunes en los suburbios que en las áreas metropolitanas.