It All Began at Fourteen
I was fourteen years old when my parents decided it was time for me to pack my bag and experience the world of work. Not exactly the summer holiday I had imagined.
My destination was the Fortino Napoleonico, a remarkable hotel overlooking the beautiful Bay of Portonovo, near Ancona, on Italy’s Adriatic coast. A historic fortress transformed into one of the most distinctive hospitality settings I had ever seen. And somewhere in that extraordinary setting was a fourteen-year-old boy learning how to be a waiter. Me.
Those were different times. Today, I suspect my parents’ summer plan would trigger a rather interesting conversation with Human Resources and the legal department. But they wanted me to learn the value of work, responsibility and independence. I doubt any of us imagined how profoundly that experience would shape my life.
If you have never visited Fortino Napoleonico, I genuinely encourage you to discover it. It remains one of the most beautiful and unique hotels I know.
In July 2026, I returned there with my family. This time, I was not carrying trays or learning to serve guests. I was showing my wife and children where my entire hospitality journey began. Standing in the same place, more than three decades later, I realized how much of my life could be traced back to that first summer.
The Sentence I Never Forgot
A couple of years later, when I was around sixteen, I spent my summers working at another beautiful property in Pesaro: the newly built Hotel Flaminio. I was attending hospitality high school at the time, putting into practice during the summer what I was learning throughout the academic year.
I was beginning to understand that hospitality was not simply a way to earn money. I genuinely enjoyed the atmosphere of hotels, the rhythm of operations, the attention to detail and the opportunity to observe people.
One day, the maître d’hôtel told me something that would remain with me for the rest of my life:
“Nicola, if you want to have a great career in hospitality, you need to study at the École hôtelière de Lausanne.”
I never forgot those words. EHL became a dream. There was, however, one significant obstacle: the school was extraordinarily expensive, far beyond what my family could afford. I put the dream aside, but I never abandoned it.
Working, Studying, and Working Some More
Life moved forward. I studied and worked. Then worked and studied. And then worked some more.
My career took me through hotel operations, leadership, development and asset management across different countries and cultures. The industry offered extraordinary opportunities, but it also demanded sacrifices: holidays spent working while others enjoyed theirs, Christmas celebrations far from my family, and New Year’s Eve spent coordinating hotel teams instead of celebrating with my children.
Anyone who has spent a career in hospitality will recognize these moments. Our industry creates wonderful memories for other people. Sometimes the people creating those memories must sacrifice a few of their own.
I do not say this with regret. Hospitality has given me an extraordinary professional life. But through all those years, one ambition remained in the back of my mind: Lausanne.
An MBA Earned Between Life’s Many Deadlines
In 2018, after decades of carrying the ambition with me, I was finally admitted to the MBA program at EHL Hospitality Business School. Being accepted was an extraordinary moment. It was also the moment I realized that the real work was only beginning.
Over the following two and a half years, my days were divided between professional responsibilities and academic deadlines. I was overseeing two hotel assets while trying to find enough hours to read, write and study. Evenings became late nights over textbooks. Weekends became study sessions. The challenge was not simply to work hard for a few weeks, but to remain disciplined, consistent and curious for years.
Then came 2020. The COVID-19 pandemic brought unprecedented uncertainty to hospitality, just as I was navigating my MBA’s final stages. In May 2020, my wife and I relocated to another country. She was seven months pregnant, we were building a home in a new place, and I was balancing the responsibilities of two hotels with the final demands of my studies. I sometimes wondered whether I had accidentally enrolled in a degree in advanced time management.
The final stretch offered a particularly memorable lesson in deadlines. I defended my MBA thesis on 24 August 2020. Just four days later, on 28 August, our son William was born. As I prepared to defend my thesis, my wife was preparing for a rather more important event. She won that particular competition for the most significant achievement of the week—by a considerable margin.
I graduated in October 2020, with a final GPA of 5.4 out of 6. My thesis received 6.0 out of 6 and was recognized as Best Paper for MBA Cohort 2 (2020). I had financed the degree through my own work, but the accomplishment never felt mine alone. My wife’s support, our family’s patience and all those evenings and weekends made it possible.
What stays with me is less the ceremony than everything that preceded it: the fourteen-year-old waiter in Portonovo, a maître d’hôtel’s advice in Pesaro, the long nights of study, the uncertainty of a pandemic and the arrival of a child. Sometimes the most meaningful achievements in life do not happen one at a time. They arrive all together, and you learn to keep going.
Six Years Later, Back to Lausanne
You might think that after realizing a longstanding ambition, I would have been satisfied. Apparently not.
Six years later, in 2026, I returned to EHL for a Doctor of Business Administration, in collaboration with the Drucker School of Management. From a fourteen-year-old waiter to a doctoral researcher: not a journey I could have imagined that first summer.
Looking back, the connection is curiosity: the desire to understand people, the fascination with memorable experiences and the belief that learning should never end.
And somewhere along the way, I also became a licensed boat captain. But that is another story. You can find it in Diario del Capitano.
Running the Long Distance
There is another part of my story that deserves a place here: running.
Over time, running has become much more than exercise for me. It has become a discipline, a habit and, in many ways, a teacher.
Preparing for a half marathon reminds me that progress is rarely built through one heroic effort. It comes from consistency. From showing up. From training when you feel strong and when you do not. From respecting the process, even when the result still feels far away.
That is true in sport, and I believe it is equally true in life.
Running has taught me that there is an important difference between a sprint and a long-distance race. In a sprint, you give everything in a few seconds. In a long run, you need something different: rhythm, discipline, patience and the ability to balance physical and mental energy over time.
I see a very similar distinction in professional and academic life.
Some challenges require a short burst of effort. Others demand endurance. A career in hospitality, an international move, an MBA, and certainly a DBA, are not sprints. They are long-distance journeys. They require focus, commitment and the ability to keep moving forward even when progress feels gradual.
One particularly memorable experience was taking part in the AlUla Desert Blaze, running in the middle of the desert. It was both extreme and rewarding: a powerful reminder that some of the most demanding environments can also offer the most meaningful sense of achievement.
That experience reinforced something I deeply believe: growth often happens outside our comfort zone.
In that sense, running has many parallels with learning. A doctoral journey also demands preparation, structure and resilience. It is not about intensity for one day. It is about sustained effort over time. About managing your energy, remaining committed and accepting that meaningful progress is often gradual.
Sport, for me, is therefore not separate from life or work. It is part of how I think, how I reset and how I challenge myself.
At the moment, I am temporarily in the pit box — a bit like a Formula 1 car going in for maintenance — because of a physical issue with my hip that I am currently treating.
The good news is that every runner knows that recovery is also part of the journey.
Sometimes progress means pushing forward.
Sometimes it means pausing, repairing and preparing for the next race.
And I fully intend to be back on the track.
Your Captain,
Nicola Mandolini