A freaky, fluky good thing happened to my wife and I four years ago – a marketing idea I’d given up on twice worked out like magic – and it changed our lives.
As of today, we have been running our small-group tour company out of a restored villa in the Abruzzo region of Italy for four seasons and business has been great. We don’t really do any advertising either outside of a few Facebook postings.
What’s our secret? Nothing. Thanks to that crazy good thing that happened, it’s all word of mouth.
Four years ago, when we were getting our idea going, we developed strategies for all aspects of the business. Among other things, we had a business plan, a financial plan, sales plan, and a marketing plan. The latter called for us to work with travel agents, online sites like Trip Adviser and Bookings.com, attend travel shows in winters, and offer to speak to any group that would have us.
We haven’t had to do any of that because Step 1 of the plan was for me to try to get the newspaper I used to work for in Canada to publish a series of stories on us quitting our jobs, selling everything we had, and moving to Italy to start our tourism business. I figured if I could get the series published, it would probably result in a few bookings.
I was eventually successful in getting that series of articles into the Travel section of the paper, and it was picked up by several other Canadian newspapers in the chain too. The series ran for 12 consecutive Saturdays from February to May 2016 when we opened.
In those 12 weeks, our reservations exploded. We filled up for 2016 and most of 2017 with people who read the series. In 2017, we rented a townhouse close by to accommodate more people. Those clients talked to their friends and relatives and 2018 was full before we knew it. People started coming back for a second and even a third trip.
That series of articles was the absolute key to our success here in Abruzzo. Without it, I don’t have a clue where we would be.
Four years later, I still shit my pants a little just thinking about this, but that series of articles almost didn’t happen. The fact is, I gave up on the series twice before it ever got going.
In July of 2015, my wife Lisa and I were moving to Abruzzo to oversee the last of the renovations on our historic villa in the town of Torre de’Passeri, about 160 kilometres east of Rome.
According to our marketing plan, that June I contacted the then managing editor of the paper, where I had worked as a reporter until 2009, and pitched the series idea as a sort of Under the Tuscan Sun inspiring life change story crossed with a David Sedaris-like frankness multiplied by my anxiety-driven nature. The managing editor, whom I knew and respected, liked the idea, but money was an issue. She said we needed to speak to the editor.
Shit. In 2008, the editor, who was in a different role at the time, had to inform me that I wouldn’t be part of the paper’s coverage of an election due to a perceived conflict of interest our senior newsroom management felt I had. I had endorsed a friend of mine who was running as a candidate, and they didn’t like.
This was one of a series of issues I had with senior management at the time, and he was just doing his job delivering a message I could tell he didn’t agree with. Still, I couldn’t keep my hot head cool.
Instead, at the meeting where he delivered the message, I could tell that he could tell that I was seething and within a hair of going smashy smashy.
So, this was the guy I had to pitch my series to, and I figured it would go one of two ways: He would turn me down to punish the guy who was a dick to him for doing his job seven years earlier; or he would say yes in order to make up for being a dick to the reporter who was only trying to do his job.
Turns out, there was a third option I didn’t consider. The editor was completely and utterly professional. His questions about the series showed he had read the outline and sample. He said he thought the paper’s readers would love the story, and that I should not be afraid to use my full voice. He verbally gave the green light for the series to run February, March and April 2016, complete with pictures and videos. He said other papers in the chain might run the series too.
Ding. Ding. Ding. It was a knock out, slam dunk, grand slam, glass of champagne outcome.
Lisa and I and our old dogs moved to Abruzzo in July of 2015, and by September, the managing editor of the paper had left for another job. In October, the editor also left.
Crap. The two people at the paper who agreed to run the series were gone, and I was 7000 kilometres away.
I sent an email to the new editor explaining things. Crickets.
I thought, “Oh well … she’s probably just getting her footing.” I emailed again a couple weeks later, and, again, nothing. I phoned and left a message. Nothing. More emails. Nothing.
By December, I had accepted that the series wasn’t going to happen. Knowing now how our whole lives hinged on this, I shudder, but I wasn’t going to chase this anymore. I didn’t like making pitches in the first place. It felt so needy.
I’d given up when Lisa urged me to give it one more try.
This time I contacted a fantastic friend of mine who was still working at the paper as a reporter, and she said not to bother with the new editor. She said go directly to the travel section editor. I did so, and the travel editor responded almost immediately saying she knew nothing about the series or the agreement to run it.
I dug out the pitch again and sent it to her, and more crickets. So as not to appear pushy, I let a week go by before sending another email. Nothing. By now it was Christmas, and I gave up again. It just wasn’t to be.
Then, in mid-January, I got an email from another person at the paper whom I didn’t know saying she was the editor for the series. She said it was time for me to send the first installments, pictures and videos so she could get them ready for publication in mid-February.
Without missing a beat, I said of course and got to work. The rest is history.
I found out later that the travel editor had tentatively accepted the series, pending budget approval, and penciled it in for publication. Then, she forgot to tell me when the budget was approved. She was off sick, there were the holidays, and there was a lot of senior staff turnover at the time. It just got lost in the mix. The lady who phoned me looking for the material was working from the tentative schedule. I just went with the flow when the opportunity presented itself.
The rest is history.
That’s how one of the most important things to have ever happened to Lisa and me and certainly the most important factor in the success of our business came to be.
I think it was magic.
