There’s a strange tension in the way we plan trips. On the one hand, we want inspiration. We look for ideas, for structure, for some reassurance that we’re not missing out. On the other hand, we want something personal, something that feels like it belongs to us. The trouble is, most travel advice is built for the first part, not the second.
Guides, blogs, itineraries, reviews, they’re built to be useful for the general public. Which means they’re built around averages. The average traveler. The most visited places. The most photographed angles. They’re designed to work for as many people as possible. That’s what makes them shareable.
But that’s also what makes them fragile.
Because once you step outside that average, those suggestions can start to fall apart. They don’t know how tired you are, or what mood you’re in, or why you chose this trip in the first place. They don’t know that you’re avoiding crowds, or that you’re feeling unsure about traveling solo, or that you’ve already seen three places that look exactly like this one.
They assume too much. And they ask too little.
The result? You follow advice that doesn’t quite fit. You go where you’re told, but it doesn’t click. You feel like you should be enjoying it more, and that quiet frustration builds. You start second-guessing your choices. You wonder if you’re doing it wrong.
You’re not.
The advice just wasn’t made for you.
That’s why Marv exists. Not to replace all that content, but to offer an alternative when it doesn’t land. Instead of presenting another static list, Marv gives you access to a person who takes time to understand what you need — not what travelers in general might want, but what this version of you, right now, today, is looking for.
It’s not magic. It’s just a different kind of attention.
Someone who listens, then suggests.
Someone who asks, then walks beside you.
It’s not about optimizing every hour. It’s about adjusting to the moment. Travel becomes lighter when it reflects who you are. It becomes deeper when the person guiding you knows what to notice and what to skip. And it becomes more yours when it stops trying to follow someone else’s idea of what matters.
So no, you’re not doing it wrong.
You’re just looking for something that fits better.
That’s a good thing.