#3
Pioneer of time,
sower of emotions
June 12, 2025
I’m starting this letter somewhere along the winding road between Marrakech and Skoura. But today, it’s South Africa I want to talk about. Last month, I was in Cape Town for We Are Africa, a trade show that brings together hoteliers, travel agents, and journalists from across the globe. I’ve been attending events like this for years, but I must admit: this one took me by surprise… in the best way. Everyone I met seemed to be carrying or searching for projects that truly meant something. There was a clear desire to slow down. Flower safaris, nature reconnection programs, healing farms to take a restorative pause…
During the various round tables (I had the chance to speak at one hosted by The Long Run), I noticed strong commitments across the board: tackling plastic use, conserving ecosystems, protecting wildlife… Instead of sticking to the old playbook, people are gathering to imagine what’s next. I was especially moved by the words of chef Jan Hendrik van der Westhuizen. This passionate South African spoke about imagination, creativity, and emotion as key drivers of Africa’s future. Today, the continent accounts for just 3–5% of global tourism, roughly the same as Italy. But it’s among the regions with the highest expected growth. And based on what I witnessed in Cape Town, the direction this market is heading in gives me immense hope.
It’s with that same creative energy that I invite you to read on.
Warmly,
Thierry
There are two types of guests at restaurants today: those who drink alcohol and those who don’t. Menus now offer wine pairings (where sommeliers sometimes break the rules with sake or beer) or “zero-proof” options based on fermentations or juices (though those can often overwhelm the palate). But what if the two weren’t mutually exclusive?
That’s exactly what Édouard Malbois set out to prove with Grands Jardins, his collection of fine teas served in bottles, like wine. I first met Édouard during a dinner I hosted to present 700,000 Heures. Years later, we reconnected for a tasting of four cold-infused teas. I still remember the Satemwa, a smoky, peaty black tea from southern Malawi that reminded me of whisky. It was brilliant. Finally, a way to reconcile everyone around the table. And frankly, do we really need wine pairings over seven or eight courses?
I love the conviviality that comes with sharing a bottle, just like I love sharing a great meal or a memorable restaurant. But I also don’t want drinking to become automatic. For once, choosing differently doesn’t feel divisive. It feels… seductively modern.
I’ve always had a passionate relationship with food. As some people say, I eat my emotions. When I’m stressed or sad, anything within four meters tends to end up in my stomach. When I’m in love or full of joy, I ride the wave of enthusiasm and often eat past the limit.
I’m fully aware of the toll it can take on my body. That’s why I regularly carve out time for fasting or wellness retreats. Recently, Angèle Ferreux-Maeght told me about her new project: a 16-day food program designed to help form healthier habits without giving up the joy of eating. I honestly couldn’t think of a better guide for this journey. She’s a total original: radiant, witty, wildly unpredictable. Food is second nature to her, and she creates nourishing, delicious dishes with no ego or fuss. She once cycled across Paris just so I could taste her plant-based foie gras! If I can finish this reset with even half the vitality she’s been infusing into Paris for years, I’ll consider it a success.
For years, I believed that at the top of the pyramid sat the guest. That everything we did in hospitality was to serve them. And if, by the end of the day, you had a little time left, you might take care of yourself. But I’ve come to realize it’s the exact opposite: first, you take care of yourself and your team. Only then do you have the energy to take care of your house, and your guests. The philosopher Jacques Derrida spoke of this often: in true hospitality, the host must retain authority over the space. The guest doesn’t set the rules because hospitality is not a service industry where one person stands above another. It’s a relationship. If a guest refuses to be welcomed, the experience fails, no matter the price tag.
I love the idea that, when you travel, you should pack two suitcases: one for what you’ll receive, and one for what you’re willing to give. Before setting off, we should ask ourselves: Why am I going there? What do I expect from the people I’ll meet? What am I ready to share? At Dar Ahlam and 700,000 Heures Impact, I’ve chosen to be unapologetically clear about who we are and who we’re not. If travelers want to join us with that understanding, I’m thrilled. If not, there are plenty of other hotels that may suit them better. I believe this is the only way to restore the soul of hospitality.
Some things are innate, but I believe taste is something you can train. Walk into an antique store and you’ll notice a few things on your first round. Then you walk through again, more slowly, and start to spot pieces you missed entirely. My design preferences have evolved over the years, but I’ve always been drawn to eclectic objects with soul. One of the places that continues to inspire me is the Adèle Collections showroom, tucked inside a leafy courtyard in Paris’s 10th arrondissement. It’s an extraordinary trove of woven fibers, leathers, textiles, and decorative surfaces that live at the crossroads of ancestral craft, sustainable innovation, and cultural heritage. Recently, I found the wall panels for the greenhouse that will host creative workshops at Dar Ahlam. They were created by Loumi Le Floc’h, a fascinating artist who reinvents interior ornamentation using… eggplant skins. Skeptical? Come see for yourself. You might just change your mind.
Some evenings, I want to read for an hour. Other times, three minutes is enough. That’s what I love about L’Épicerie du Monde by Pierre Singaravélou and Sylvain Venayre. It’s the kind of book you keep by your bed, dipping into stories of food like chocolates in a box. I’m not a fan of globalized cuisine. Eating sushi in Marrakech or bouillabaisse in Australia feels absurd to me. Local specialties, ingredients, techniques, traditions, are portals into a culture. That’s their purpose. If I had to say something positive about globalization, though, it’s this: it has expanded our curiosity for taste far beyond what it once was. Dining out to eat what you already eat at home is like checking into a hotel just to stay in your room. A missed opportunity. And yet, throughout history, ingredients have always traveled. Exchanges have always enriched the way we eat.
Nostalgia has always been a part of my story. I don’t dwell on it, but I hold my memories with care. I faced death very early in life and that gave me an acute sense of what it means to live. That kind of tender nostalgia finds its perfect setting at Hotel Arcé, a family-run inn deep in the Basque countryside. There, you can hear the church bells ring and the river flow under a little stone bridge. I have a photo of myself, barely six months old, on a table that’s still there today… and just a few weeks ago, I celebrated my 60th birthday at that very table with my family. I love these timeless places passed down from one generation to the next. The pursuit of ultra-luxury should no longer be the pinnacle of hospitality. At Arcé, everything is there: comfort, charm, authenticity, the very definition of a “pension de famille.” The owners carry this region in their bones, and I find that profoundly moving. That’s what I love about the Basque Country. Even as it evolves and grows, it never does so at the expense of its DNA, its roots, its culture. You know exactly why you’re going and you’re never disappointed.
> A recording with Pierre Bonel, Head Concierge of Hôtel de Crillon, for the very first episode of Impact, his podcast dedicated to the transformative power of travel. In this intimate conversation, we explored what travel (when it carries meaning) can truly awaken within us. I’ll keep you posted when it goes live.
> A seminar held in late May by the Academy of Fine Arts in Bari, in Puglia. One of the speakers, Torquato Parisi, gave a talk on beauty through the lens of the 700’000 heures experience. It brought back fond memories of the dinners we once held in his lighting warehouses in Salento.
> An article on Dar Ahlam by journalist Alicia Dorey. In Apollo magazine, she explores the future of hospitality, the disorientation of travel, and refers to the House of Dreams as a mirage of what lies ahead.