I’d always dreamed of running my own business, something that gave me freedom, flexibility, and the ability to make people happy.

But for years, I’d been stuck in the wrong place.

I was working as a mortgage adviser, watching interest rates climb and clients come in scared about how they’d keep their homes.
That wasn’t why I got into advising. I wanted to help people feel good about their future, not worried sick.

So, I made a snap decision: I was going to open a travel agency.

On day one, I was full of optimism. I’d chosen the perfect name, picked the colours, made the window look inviting, and even bought furniture that I thought would make people want to come in.
In my head, I was already imagining the blue plaque that would one day read:

“Billionaire Sir Peter Stamford, the greatest travel agent of all time, started his business here.”

By the end of month one, I’d sold two holidays. Both to my mum.

It wasn’t that the holidays were bad (they were great). The problem was, I looked and sounded exactly like every other agent out there.

I knew something had to change.