Many people in Croatia will tell you quite plainly why they run a holiday rental: it pays the bills. And as a business, my guests are indeed keeping the lights on. But the reason I first wanted to become a host was far from practical.
More than ten years ago, I was travelling through Provence. I stayed with two hosts who couldn't have been more different from each other — one in Marseille, a charming, effortlessly sociable man who could have talked his way into any room; the other in Avignon, an elegant French lady who aged exceptionally well with quiet confidence and taste. My conversations with both of them — the small exchanges, the local tips slipped in over breakfast, the feeling of being genuinely looked after by someone who actually lived there — were what made that trip vividly memorable until this day. More than the lavender fields. More than the food, though the food was extraordinary. Them.
I remember thinking: if I could help create that feeling for other people, that would be something worth doing. And so, quietly and without telling anyone, running a guesthouse became a secret wish.
Back in Hong Kong, I had no idea how it would ever happen. But every trip I took, the wish came back — unavoidably, since booking accommodation has a way of reminding you of your dreams.
Some things in life resist rational explanation. This very dream of mine felt real even when it was practically impossible in every way.
If you assumed that moving to Croatia would be the catalyst for my dream, that reasonable guess turned out to be far from the reality. We did buy a second apartment before we started the rental — but the purchase itself was entirely unplanned, almost inexplicable in hindsight. At the time, I was occupied from morning to night by a one-year-old who had decided sleep was last on his to-do list. My greatest ambition had been quietly downgraded to "more than five hours of sleep everyday". The grand plans for a guesthouse were nowhere in the picture.
After the apartment was finally renovated — a process that lurched along at an archaeological pace for eight or nine months — starting the rental simply became the next logical step. We welcomed our first guests nine years after that trip to Provence.
There is no formula for running a holiday rental. Every host makes their own choices about style, facilities, and how much of themselves they put into it. But my own experiences as a traveller gave me certain convictions I wasn't willing to compromise on.
The first was this: I would always check guests in personally.
I know that self check-in had already become common before the pandemic — it suits both sides, removes the stress of travel delays, and keeps things efficient. I do have the option available as a backup, and I've used it a handful of times when flights arrived in the small hours. But otherwise, even for guests arriving at ten or later in the evening, I'm there. If I'm not there to meet the guests, I find it very difficult to learn what they really need. And making good judgments about what guests need makes or breaks my job as a host.
Some guests want to be left completely alone — and I respect that entirely. Others have a particular reason for their trip. I've bought flowers and written cards for guests celebrating anniversaries. I've ordered cakes. Once, I discovered by chance that a couple had just got married and that Split was their first stop on their honeymoon. I arranged a small surprise in their room. Their flight was severely delayed — but they still arrived at a reasonable hour, so I checked them in myself. When the exhausted bride walked in and saw the room, she turned around and gave me a big hug. I still remember her joyful face in tears.
Other times, guests have contacted me after checking out, already somewhere else in Croatia, having run into some difficulty. Sometimes I could help. Sometimes I couldn't. The fact that a stranger from the other side of the world would reach out, feeling that I might be their life saver, makes me want to be a better host.
That first conviction led directly to the second: every property I run has to be within walking distance of where I live.
Some of my neighbours operate rentals a car ride away. Some avoid meeting guests because their English isn't good enough. Some have simply decided to outsource everything they can. I understand all of it. Running a rental is a 24-7 job. And there is no single correct way of making it work.
But for me, being present when it matters requires being close. All of the 3 Flowers rentals are within five minutes' walk from my front door. If something goes wrong, I can be there right away.
There's another unexpected benefit too. Because I live and move through the same central neighbourhood every day, I know it in a way that not even some local Croatian people would. The shortcuts. The market days. Which café has the best coffee at eight in the morning. Which streets to avoid when a cruise ship docks. Guests I meet on the street usually don't ask me for directions. I have to initiate my help. My Asian face obviously surprises them when I know exactly where they're going — and a few shortcuts they didn't ask for.
Last September, I ran into my neighbours — a couple who come to clean their old apartment, which they now rent out while living on the outskirts of Split. We see each other more often in summer than at any other time. In the middle of catching up, the husband said: "Thank God the season is finally over."
I smiled and offered the kind of Hong Kong pep talk that doesn't always strike a chord in Croatia: "Just look at your bank account. That's the motivation."
He wasn't convinced.
I understood him. I couldn't run 3 Flowers Holiday Rentals solely for the money either. Each season builds slowly and peaks in July and August, when days blur together and lunch becomes a much delayed quick bite. Last couple of years have brought an increasing number of last-minute bookings. It has made it hard to plan anything personal. When I start refusing morning coffee meet ups with my friends, I know the season is coming thick and fast. If you can't find genuine satisfaction in the work, the whole thing eventually becomes a grind — and a grind sustained year after year becomes something worse. I've met hosts like that, usually around the time they're selling up after ten years or more.
I can't promise I'll never feel that way. But I got through 12 years without the seven-year itch, so I'm cautiously optimistic about the 13th ahead.
3 Flowers Holiday Rentals operates en-suite rooms and apartments in central Split, all within walking distance of Diocletian's Palace, Bačvice Beach, and the ferry port. If you'd like to stay with us, check availability or get in touch at threeflowerssplit.com.
