You know that time is precious to me, which is why I decided to structure this monthly letter as follows: a retrospective on the past month, an encounter with a creative mind, a taste sensation, a reflection to open up new horizons, an enlightening read, and a place where the values of hospitality are those that I love and cherish. TOMO is not just a newsletter. It is a companion that transforms readers’ time into something precious and unexpected.
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#14
Pioneer of time,
sower of emotions
April 13th, 2026
Dear readers,
For those who may have missed it, I have some important news to share: TOMO Voices is now officially live.
This newsletter was born from a simple observation: hoteliers are profoundly isolated, and there is a strong need to connect with others facing the same challenges. Today, much within our industry is no longer functioning as it should. And yet, across the world, women and men are inventing new forms of relationship, repairing territories, supporting communities, and caring for the living world. I felt compelled to give them a voice and to continue the spirit of transmission that now runs through all my projects.
TOMO will remain what you know it to be: a living object of inspiration and curation. TOMO Voices, on the other hand, will offer a step aside for those who, each month, wish to go further into the questions of hospitality. A platform that speaks plainly, bringing together best practices, pitfalls to avoid, challenges to navigate, and inspiring figures… with, of course, a touch of activism, as hospitality holds a political power that must be exercised.
I am convinced that we are not far from identifying the element that could transform our profession in a lasting way. And I would like us to think, collectively, about how to bring it into being.
Warmly,
Thierry
TOMO Voices is structured around four recurring encounters.
Among them, Monologue offers carte blanche to a creative voice, inviting them to share their relationship to beauty, poetry, and what hospitality means within their practice.
This free-flowing conversation, shaped by each individual’s musicality, will sometimes be accompanied by a video portrait by Nora Jaccaud, creator of the documentary series Human Postcards.
I first met Nora through mutual friends, before she came to spend time at Dar Ahlam. She immediately told me she was not a storyteller, but a story listener. I was struck by that expression — it reveals the very nature of her sensitivity. By opening her heart, she creates the conditions for others to share their stories in complete trust.
One day, after having filmed several portraits of the Memory Road teams and those at Dar Ahlam, she told me it was my turn. I had no idea what to expect, nor how the conversation would unfold. We spent an hour and a half together and, several times during our exchange, I saw her moved to tears. She listens with such attention that she truly lives the stories of others. I believe this is what allows her to create portraits that are so precise and deeply affecting.
And, as a way of thanking you for your attentive reading, we are exceptionally sharing here one of the pieces usually reserved for TOMO Voices subscribers…
I am often asked for my “best addresses” in Marrakech. It is difficult to answer, as it naturally depends on what one is looking for. But if you are after cuisine that is refined, inventive and generous, I wholeheartedly recommend Le Petit Cornichon, in the Guéliz district. I discovered this place through Laurence, a friend I consider as a sister. She has lived in Morocco for years — she was launching her embroidery and home linen atelier while I was preparing the opening of Dar Ahlam — and she always introduces me to new places when I stay with her.
What I love about this restaurant is the chef Erwann Lance’s passion and creative energy. He does not seek to please: he does what he loves, and is in constant exploration. Thanks to him, I discovered celeriac risotto, which has since become a staple at our House of Dreams. If you go, the best approach is to share four or five starters, then order a main so you can experience his sole meunière or beef Wellington. And I cannot finish without mentioning his chocolate cake even if we are perpetually at odds about it. He insists on serving the edges, which I find overcooked, so do ask for a slice from the centre. And then… the pleasure is absolute.
What do we do with our free time?
This is the question explored by sociologist and historian Jean-Miguel Pire in L’Otium du peuple, a book that has deeply marked me recently. Today, work represents just 11% of our waking lifetime, compared to 48% in 1800. But what are we doing with this newfound wealth? The sobering truth is that we are losing it to our phones and certainly not in ways that elevate us as human beings. When companies spend billions to make us addicted, they succeed. And if we are not careful, we lose thirty minutes here and there — until, by the end of the day, two hours have vanished. It is immense.
Last year, I bought a second phone so I could only connect from midday onwards. And yet, a year later, I still have not quite managed to take that final step. The same issue arises with the travellers we welcome, and I am currently preparing a small surprise for the coming season… I look forward to telling you more.
There are moments when I am left utterly speechless by an artist’s work, and Fujiko Nakaya —a 92-year-old Japanese sculptor— is undoubtedly one of those who has recently taken me by surprise. I discovered her work through Eric Martin, a photographer I regularly collaborate with. We met in Brazil, where he had come to document our 700,000 Heures season, and have remained in touch ever since.
He is as deeply human as he is demanding, always bringing a different perspective to a narrative. The last time we spoke, he was on his way to Thailand to photograph one of her works. Nakaya uses water vapor to create dreamlike sculptures and I have always been sensitive to Land Art. To shape nature is, to me, the most beautiful way of revealing a beauty not everyone perceives and of underlining its inherent perfection. In Nakaya’s work, the shifting fog appears in varying densities: at times a tangible volume, at others a translucent veil. It is infinitely poetic, and its ephemeral nature invites us, even more so, to savour the present moment.
I am drawn to artists who step outside their own universe to explore new territories, without fearing that it might not be their place. This is precisely why I wanted to speak to you about Bartabas and his book Les cogne-trottoirs. A first novel that is lyrical, irreverent, and dazzling in style. I first discovered him in Avignon, and his equestrian theatre later accompanied me in Paris. His work on the relationship between man and horse is nothing short of magical. Reading his book felt like a jolt.
He manages to convey everything he has lived, while painting a vivid portrait of the emergence of street theatre. The power of his writing makes you want to put on extravagant make-up, share drinks with the troupe, and follow their extraordinary path. In the same way that I admire those who enter hospitality from outside the industry, I am fascinated by the creative freedom of those who dare simply because no one ever told them it was impossible.
Last month, I landed at Longyearbyen airport, a small mining town on the island of Spitsbergen, in Norway’s Svalbard archipelago. It has barely 2,500 inhabitants and only thirty kilometres of roads. The reason for this journey, 1,316 kilometres from the North Pole: Selar, a fully innovative solar-powered sailing vessel. Entrepreneurs Julia Bijaoui and Quentin Vacher first told me about the project nearly three years ago, when they were about to invest. On paper, I am the opposite of a cruise enthusiast. Boats —however small— represent, to me, the antithesis of hospitality. I dislike them intensely and feel entirely out of place. And yet, as I listened to them describe these polar expedition cruises, I found the idea extraordinary. I have accompanied them ever since in their thinking, which is how they came to join Shift, our creative workshop at Dar Ahlam (the next session will take place in September).
Their approach is both courageous and necessary. I can only encourage you to lose yourself in their website — you will quickly realise that there will be a before and an after Selar in this sector. Everything in this industry must be reinvented, and they are in the process of shattering every established norm.
To follow everything happening around my projects:
> An article published in The Observer, in which journalist Paul Jebara explains how a stay at Dar Ahlam completely transformed his definition of luxury and blurred what hospitality should be.
> A feature in Galerie Magazine highlighting the architectural and conceptual dimension of Dar Ahlam, described as a total work of art where heritage, design and landscape interact to create an experience that is both deeply rooted in Moroccan culture and profoundly contemporary.
> A selection in Departures, where our Rwanda season with 700,000 Heures Impact is presented as a large-scale participatory work — where luxury lies in the intensity of the experience, storytelling, and human engagement.
Photo Credit : Glacier by Thierry Teyssier / The Human Postcard & Nora Jaccaud / Le Petit Cornichon / Boby / Fog by Melissa Ostrow / Bartabas By Hugo Marty / Selar & Thierry Teyssier