Lodges &
Remote Hospitality

Solar, water harvesting and storage, and passive climate design so the building generates and holds its own energy and water. A meter that runs backwards, not a generator that runs all night.

Poured earth, adobe, stone, lime and cyclopean concrete — material gathered on site, so the building belongs to its place and almost nothing is shipped in.

Catenary and barrel vaults laid without formwork, by a small trained crew. No cranes, no imported shuttering — the method suits a site at the end of a track, and it employs the community around it.

Where refinement is needed — glass, steel, joinery — I draw and fabricate to sub-millimetre tolerance in Rhino, Grasshopper and Onshape, and CNC-cut it to seat against a hand-built wall. Earth and machine in one building.

Light on a protected landscape by design — minimal earthworks, natural materials that weather in rather than out, and a structure that could one day return to the ground it came from.

The building becomes part of the experience you sell — the earth walls, the vault overhead, the fact that it runs on sun and rain. Sustainability that is visible and true, not a plaque in the lobby.

Safari camps and eco-lodges where the site itself is the luxury — the Okavango and the Kalahari, Damaraland and the Skeleton Coast, the Serengeti, Patagonia and the Atacama, the Amazon, the Icelandic highlands, the Arctic. Remote, fragile, off any grid: the harder the site, the more this way of building earns its place — power and water made on site, materials drawn from the ground, a structure a local crew can raise by hand.

Stone-and-vault country — Sardinia and Sicily, Mallorca and the Balearics, the Puglian masseria, the Greek islands, the Alentejo. Lime, stone and the vault are a language this practice already speaks — a year on the Rome Scholarship, a working life in mass masonry. The off-grid finca, the stone-vaulted retreat: refined, low-impact, and rooted in the ground it rises from.