Tiffany, graceful company in Amsterdam Centrum

Amsterdam Centrum is a working neighbourhood dressed as a postcard, and Tiffany treats it accordingly. She lives among the canals, crosses them constantly, and has the local habit of knowing which bridge is quickest at which hour. Guests staying in the old city often find that she has arrived before the confirmation message has finished sinking in, because her front door is genuinely a few streets from theirs.

She is 24, 169 centimetres with a petite frame, long chocolate brown hair and brown eyes, and a beachside boho glamour with sequin sparkle in it that manages to look thought through rather than assembled. Detail oriented is the honest description; she notices cufflinks, watch straps, the restaurant that changed its chairs, and it makes her very good company for anybody who cares about that layer of things.

Street photography is the reason for the noticing, a camera carried through the city most days, and Stacy is the other one out walking with a lens.

Design hotels are the aesthetic weakness, judged by their lobbies and lighting, and champagne is the drink she orders without needing a reason at all, an enthusiasm she shares with Nora. Between them they could tell you which hotel bar in this city pours it properly and which one is charging you for the view.

Her front door is inside the canal ring in Amsterdam Centrum, which makes her one of the quickest arrivals on the whole board. She is playful and fast in English. Graceful in the room, mischievous once she is comfortable, Tiffany suits a good hotel bar, a long dinner and an evening where somebody is paying attention to the details, probably her. She is also the person who will quietly notice that your table is the wrong one and have it changed before you have finished reading the wine list.

Meet in the lobby, and let her look at it properly first. Tiffany judges hotels by their lighting and their chairs, and if yours is one of the good ones you will hear about it before the first drink arrives.

Champagne opens things, ordered without needing a reason. Dinner follows somewhere inside the canal ring, close enough to walk, and if the table you were given is the wrong one it will be swapped before the drinks land, without you ever seeing her do it. She reads a room in small parts, a watch strap, a pair of shoes, the chairs a restaurant quietly replaced in the spring. Poised in the room, mischievous the moment she relaxes, and one of the quickest arrivals on the board if your hotel is central.