The places I know cold — planned, sailed, walked, and vetted. Pick one and start exploring.
Every pin is a place I plan, sail, and walk myself. Tap a pin to jump to what I book there — or pick from the list under the map.
Cruises are the trips I plan most — and the ones I take most. That combination changes the advice: which cabin tier is actually worth the money, which dining room to book first, which sea day needs nothing on it. You get the honest version, not the brochure version.
Adults-only, no buffets, no kids' clubs — Virgin runs the most grown-up ships at sea right now. Book through my advisor link and the reservation lands on my desk, with current promotions and onboard credit applied where they fit.
Disney is where I sail most, and it shows in the details — stateroom location, rotational dining order, which adult-only restaurants to book before they fill. Families get a plan built by someone who has run the character-breakfast math at 7 a.m. and still shown up smiling.
The biggest ships in the world, and the widest spread of cabin prices afloat. This is where the suite-versus-balcony question matters most, and I run the numbers both ways before you pick. Sometimes the suite wins. Sometimes it is a very expensive couch.
Two regions, two completely different trips. Alaska is about the itinerary — glacier days, port timing, the right side of the ship. The Caribbean is about the ship itself and the season you sail. I will tell you plainly which sailing fits the trip you actually want.
Fares match booking direct — no markup, and no advisor fee on a standard cruise booking. I handle the cabin selection, the dining, and the details that surface after the deposit.
I plan Paris the way it wants to be seen: a base in one neighborhood, one anchor sight a day, and long lunches that aren't a scheduling failure. First-timers get the icons without the queue-first itinerary; returners get the smaller museums, the market mornings, and the rooms where the view is actually worth paying for.
Edinburgh and the Highlands reward a slower hand — first-class rail where it counts, hotels picked for the view from the room, and pacing that works for every generation on the trip. The castles and the whisky are in, obviously; the real craft is in the transfers, so no one hauls a bag across a concourse.
The southwest loop — Dublin, Kinsale, Killarney, Galway — is the classic for a reason, and it falls apart when it's rushed. I quote every hotel three ways, check what's being built next door before anyone books, and hold one rule above all: the room setup you asked for is the room setup you get.
Athens to the Adriatic, the Med is where ship choice and port days have to be planned together. I match the sailing to the traveler — the right ship for a graduation trip is not the right ship for a honeymoon — and flag the port mornings where an early start earns it, and the ones where the ship is the destination.
Alaska is an itinerary trip: glacier days, port timing, and which side of the ship your balcony faces. I plan it cruise-first or cruisetour-first depending on whether Denali is on your list, and I will argue for the balcony every time — this is the one route where the room is the excursion.
The ship matters more than the stops, and the season matters more than both. I match hulls to travelers — adults-only when it's that kind of trip, family ships when it isn't — and keep an eye on fares after booking, because Caribbean pricing moves.
I plan park days around crowds, not hope: where to stay for the commute you'll actually make, the dining worth setting an alarm for, and the splurges that earn it. And yes — I'll tell you which famous must-dos you can skip without a flicker of regret.
Adam's AI concierge at Travel, Rebuilt. Ask about a trip, the fees, or how booking works — Harbor gets you ready for Adam.
Adam replies personally to every brief — he’ll review your trip and reach out by your preferred contact method.