In the southwest of Bali, Pererenan is surrounded by rice fields, narrow lanes, and temples, moving at a slow rhythm far from the bustle of tourist areas. This is where Further belongs—a diffused hotel interwoven with the daily life and breath of the village. Founder Claudio Cuccu lives here with his wife Martine McGrath and their four children, staying closely connected to the land in their everyday life.

Further was co-founded by Claudio and Martine together with Tim Wiswell and Simon Digby. Both co-founders bring extensive international experience in hospitality and finance, providing a strong operational foundation and strategic direction for the project. Together with Claudio and Martine, they transformed a concept born from a shift in life’s rhythm into a daily reality rooted in the village.

The story of Further did not begin with the intention to create a brand, but with a natural shift in life’s rhythm. In 2009, Claudio built his first villa, Red Door, in Pererenan, establishing a deep connection with the local community. Years later, after he and his wife successfully ran The Slow in Canggu, they decided to step away and pass the project to their business partner, as that was the year they welcomed their first child—a change in family rhythm that reshaped their understanding of time and space.

After leaving Canggu, they returned to the land they knew best. “We didn’t have a set plan—we simply followed life back to a rhythm the body already knew,” Claudio says. Further was not conceived as an extension or upgrade of The Slow, but as an inward shift—to “go further.” That idea became both the name and the tagline: Stay Further. As Claudio puts it, “We are not creating something everyone will praise us for. We are creating something that reflects who we are, and who we want to be—just like our family and our children, this is our legacy.”

It is difficult to define Further as a conventional “hotel.” It comprises four independent yet interconnected buildings scattered throughout the streets of Pererenan village. Inspired by the Italian concept of Albergo Diffuso (diffused hotel), it emphasizes horizontal integration rather than centralized development.

At present, the 25 suites are spread across two adjacent buildings, offering five room types: Penthouse, King, Twin, Studio, and Family. The remaining buildings host dining, retail, and cultural functions, with each space representing a different fragment of daily life: Bar Vera is a semi-open restaurant and bar that operates in the evenings, inspired by the conviviality of Parisian bistros; ST. ALi brings coffee and light fare to the community during the day; the surfboard workshop Thomas Surfboards shares a retail space with the apparel brand Smile Clothing, quietly located at the end of a village lane and attuned to a more local rhythm; the fragrance lab Oaken Lab and the Object project conceived by Martine McGrath & Amy Wenden of Studio Wenden, together form the core of Further’s sensory experience; and the exhibition and performance space opens periodically to the public, becoming a place for neighborhood gatherings and exchanges among creatives.

Between these buildings, there are no deliberate walls or explicit directional signs—the movement follows the village’s existing walking patterns, unfolding naturally. As guests walk, they pass local homes, temples, and small shops, gently invited to slow down and blend into the everyday atmosphere of the village. As Claudio says, “If you have breakfast in one building and spend the afternoon by the pool in another, you’ll find yourself moving through the village, meeting Balinese people, and seeing how beautiful they are.”

The interface of the spaces remains open to the village, with no rigidly defined “guest-only” areas. People’s ways of coming and going are not restricted by operations, and paths continue along their original, everyday routes. The steps of Bar Vera are still used by neighbors walking their dogs; the open space in front of the performance venue is where children play football; the warung next door carries on its usual business.“We didn’t ask them to move—we chose to build around them,” Claudio says.

The architecture of Further was designed by the Italian studio MORQ. Claudio and Martine were not looking for a practice that focused solely on visual style, but for a partner who could understand “rhythm and relationships.” A friend’s introduction led them to MORQ, yet the decision to collaborate was based not only on the style of their work, but also on their patience and sensitivity in reading the land.

In the early design phase, they walked the village with MORQ, observing the path of sunlight, the fall of rain, and the direction of the wind, feeling the subtle changes in terrain—not to draw plans, but to understand the site’s way of breathing. “We took the time to feel it, rather than analyze it. Our shared understanding was that the building should not be the protagonist, but a structure that makes space for others,” Claudio says.The resulting architecture carries a restrained presence—there is no designated main entrance, nor any contrived sense of belonging. Openings between the eaves allow light and wind to pass; the spacing of walls follows the lines of existing paths; trees were not removed but accommodated by adjusting the orientation of rooms. Each opening was defined by time—from the morning light entering the kitchen to the evening sun illuminating the corner of the performance space.

The core material is handmade clay brick from Tabanan, a material long used in Bali, applied to both façades and interior details so that the buildings appear “as if they had emerged from the ground”—contemporary yet an homage to local culture. “Most places here prefer polished concrete, white tones, and tropical minimalism,” Claudio notes, “but we wanted something warmer, more tactile, and richer in character—something people could truly feel in the space.”

Working with the local community was also central to the design. All bricks were produced by a small village kiln with custom colors developed together—“They had never done this kind of design before, so we created all the colors together, and that’s something we really treasure,” Claudio says. Wooden furniture was crafted with carpenters from the neighboring village, and many collaborations grew into personal connections—“They invited us to their homes for meals. That goes far beyond a working relationship; it’s more like family,” Claudio reflects. “So Further was not just built in this village—it was built together with it.”

At Further, sensory experience is not an “add-on” to the space—it is interwoven with its architecture and daily life. Created by Martine McGrath & Amy Wenden of Studio Wenden, the Object project encompasses bed linens, ceramics, scents, and textiles, most created in collaboration with local or long-term partners. Handcrafted clay cups are fired by potters from a neighboring village; linen fabrics retain subtle sun-faded tones; scents are custom-made for Further by Jakarta-based Oaken Lab, complete with a refillable system. “We don’t want to fill the rooms with objects that feel completely foreign,” Martine says. “Everything should be used, touched, and lived with—not just displayed.”

Sound is equally integral to the sensory system. In both public areas and suites, curated playlists for Further blend tracks from local musicians, works by resident artists, and incidental recordings from the village—the rustle of wind through rice fields, the beat of temple drums, the clink of metal in the kitchen, footsteps in front of the performance space, the low hum of motorbikes at dusk.“Sound can make you remember a place,” Claudio says, “sometimes even longer than an image.”This layering of the senses is not intended to create a sense of “elsewhere,” but to give guests a genuine feeling of presence—as if living within the village, not merely staying at a hotel.

At Further, there is no “team” in the conventional sense. Daily life is sustained by a shifting group of practitioners—perfumers, ceramicists, sound artists, bakers, photographers, baristas… some stay briefly, some return over years, and others quietly move on after becoming part of the place.Each brings their own methods and rhythms, leaving behind traces of their culture. Together, they form the Further Collective, a loose yet genuine network of relationships. “We have no titles, no job descriptions, no org charts,” Claudio says. “Only a group of people who show up here in their own way.”

Claudio recalls an early scene: “Some people don’t like meetings, but every morning they would come to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, check the lights, water the plants—that was their way of taking care of the place.” Martine adds: “Sometimes all you need is to leave an empty chair. Someone might come, or they might not—but what matters is leaving the possibility.”The Collective’s way of being is closer to everyday life—quiet acts of care, repeated handwork, contributions that leave no deliberate mark. “We don’t need to be seen,” Claudio says with a smile, “but we hope people know that someone has lived here with care.”

This loose yet genuine way of relating naturally extends into the village. Bar Vera employs local youth, some buildings are maintained in collaboration with neighbors, and the community kitchen is open to local chefs to test menus or host festive gatherings for residents. “We didn’t set out to ‘integrate into the community,’” Claudio says. “We simply live alongside them—not to join a project, but to let our rhythms align naturally.”Sometimes, when guests arrive, village elders will come to tell stories or hold a welcoming ceremony. This is not merely a “transaction,” but a process of building trust.“The foundation of it all is care—for the place and for the people,” Claudio says. “It’s not something you can fake; it has to be rooted in that place and those people.”

In Pererenan, Further is like a path that flows slowly—without a clear beginning and with no defined end. It exists not through boundaries, but through relationships: between people, between people and the land, and between people and the everyday—more like an open philosophical proposition.Further does not seek to create a “new community,” but allows existing life to continue—interweaving with the village’s pace without disturbance, letting daily life flow freely within.“We don’t want this place to be the focus,” Claudio says. “We want people to be able to walk through it, forget it, even overlook it. That is the best state.”

Here, time is slowed down: sunlight moves gently along the texture of the brick walls; the shadows of the streets overlap and scatter across the ground; the moment a neighbor pushes open the door becomes part of its fabric. Further is not a story that can be fully told, but a series of moments—happening now, and continuing to unfold. “The most important thing is, we live here ourselves,” Claudio says. “This is not a machine that runs on its own after we leave—it’s a daily life we take part in.”

Perhaps what Further seeks to convey is not a definition of a hotel, but a way of being—to linger a little longer in the present, to go a little deeper into a place, and to let your memories take root in different soils.

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