I’m still half expecting someone to call and say there’s been a mistake.

Just a few days ago, I found myself at Windsor Castle, walking through the Henry VIII Gate to receive my MBE from Her Royal Highness The Princess Royal.

Even writing that sentence now feels unbelievable, but in the moment, it was completely surreal because no matter how hard you pinch, your brain cannot quite catch up with what your feet are doing.

It poured with rain all day, but somehow it made the whole experience feel even more dramatic. I was there with Lynne, my partner, alongside two of my biggest supporters - my friend and industry colleague Kristina Wallen and my life-long friend Debbie Turner.

As we made our way up the long winding path, the castle towering above us, I had one of those rare, quiet pauses where you just think – wow, this is extraordinary.

Inside, it was like stepping into another world. The smell of polished wood, the soft hush of voices, the sense of history in every corner and rooms so majestic you almost forget to breathe.

It’s impossible not to feel the weight of where you are, but the palace team and courtiers were extraordinary; calm, kind, and quietly brilliant at making you feel like you’re the only one there. I arrived buzzing with nerves, but they steadied everything.

We waited in a magnificent room that looked untouched by time, with enormous paintings that felt too grand to be real. Then we were guided into the Grand Room for the investiture itself, one of the state rooms damaged by fire but restored so beautifully you would never know.

Dating back to King Charles II’s reign, it was gold, fabric and opulence in every direction. We walked in to the sound of The Duchess of Edinburgh’s string quartet softly playing, a quiet undertone to what was about to unfold. I felt completely wrapped up in a moment all of my own.

And then came the part where I attempted a proper curtsy. There are instructions, of course – stand here, take two steps right, curtsy or bow, move forward two steps.

As my name was called, I stepped as directed and intended to curtsy, but immediately discovered my knees had other plans. I went in for the curtsy and came out with a “let’s all pretend that was deliberate” bow. I think I just about styled it out. Just.

(Image courtesy of Jo Rzymowska)

Meeting Princess Anne was a genuine highlight. It meant so much to me that it was her bestowing the honour, and I wasn’t prepared for how sharp, warm, funny and completely at ease she was, which frankly helped me enormously.

We spoke about my work in travel and my commitment to diversity and inclusion, and she made it clear she had heard of Royal Caribbean Group. When we started talking about cruising, she looked at me with a wry smile and hinted that she personally prefers smaller ships, which caused a good giggle between us. In the middle of all that grandeur, it was such a human, grounding moment.

That evening, it felt only right to celebrate with the people who’ve shaped my life and career. Lynne and I hosted a dinner at Ognisko Polskie, the Polish Hearth, bringing together friends and colleagues from across travel, business, culture and the arts.

Opened in 1939 as a social and cultural home for the Polish community in exile, it’s where my parents first met after arriving in the UK as refugees fleeing Nazi Germany and Poland. With my parents no longer here, being somewhere that meant so much to them, surrounded by my chosen family, felt incredibly moving.

I was honoured Dame Irene Hays and Kristina asked to say a few words, each delivering meaningful speeches that were kind, hilarious and wonderfully truthful in equal measure. One of the most moving moments of the night, however, came from my mum’s life-long friend, Helen Clifford, who at the incredible age of 96 stood up and delivered an absolute masterclass – no notes, just five five minutes of razor-sharp wit.

(Image courtesy of Jo Rzymowska)

Listening to those tributes in that room, in the place where my parents first met, brought everything full circle. My parents lived through persecution and trauma, but they didn’t respond with hatred. They taught me to look for the best in people and to make others feel welcome, always. Those values have shaped everything I’ve done, and they feel painfully relevant today.

Nearly 90 years on from the start of World War Two, fear and hate still find their way to the surface and marginalised communities continue to pay the price. Staying silent is not staying neutral, it is complicit, and indifference is dangerous.

That is why I’ve always believed so strongly in the power of travel, not just as an industry, but as a force for good. At its best, travel opens minds, builds understanding and reminds us that people are more alike than they are different. It creates connection where others try to create division, and it gives us the chance to see one another with curiosity, not judgement.

This was one of the greatest honours of my life, but more than anything, it left me with gratitude and with hope. There is goodness, there is community and when we come together around shared values, we remind ourselves what is possible. We keep choosing empathy, keep creating space and keep building an industry, and a world, where more people feel they truly belong.

And that, for me, is the real work.

Jo Rzymowska is the founder of Jovolution, a non-executive director of Hays Travel and former EMEA managing director of Celebrity Cruises.