Reflections from a visit to Algarve, Portugal
An unexpected encounter
Here I am, finding myself walking through an edible garden on a agro-ecological land in rural Algarve, listening to Maurice explain how he has spent decades working on designing natural spaces that invite us to reconnect with our inner nature.
Around us, thriving vegetation, fruit trees – mango, avocado, banana, papaye, carob – and medicinal plants. Only a couple of years ago, this was barren land. We talk about the importance of healthy soils, natural wastewater treatment and spaces designed for healing. But most important, we talk about care, humility and love for the living world.
The conversation flows naturally. We speak the same language, that of regeneration, and share a conviction that another way of developing land, welcoming people and doing business is possible.
I have come to discover Altanure, a collection of remarkable places near Tavira, almost by chance. The name itself carries a story. Maurice explains its connection to Arabic world for bread oven and to the “athanor”, the alchemist’s furnace where lead is transformed into gold. It is also an anagram of “la nature” in French. A relevant name for a place where the regeneration of nature and the transformation of our inner selves are intimately connected.
Regeneration by Design
For the past years, through Regenopolis, we have been advocating for regeneration by design.
Not regeneration as the latest sustainability buzzword, another marketing promise or an additional set of indicators to report against. But regeneration as an intention that shapes every decision, from the outset.
It starts with listening : to the land, its history, its ecosystems, and the way people inhabit the place.
Understanding what is already there, what can reveal itself, what has been damaged, what can still flourish when given the right conditions.
Hospitality here must come with humility, to learn from and to serve the place ; it is a story of (re)connection. And sometimes, that experience changes how we relate to ourselves, to others and to the world.
Regeneration is not only an aspiration. It already exists in many places in the world, but their stories often go untold.
The projects that move me most rarely need to proclaim themselves regenerative. They embody it. In how they treat employees, cultivate soils, source food, choose materials, honour local craftsmanship and care for the surrounding landscape.
Regeneration is not an add-on. It is a way of running a business. It is not something you claim : it is something you practice, day after day, until the results speak for themselves.
And beyond the ethical conviction of serving a higher purpose lies something equally important : investing in the health of ecosystems and communities is investing in the long-term vitality of the assets and businesses that depend on them.
Regeneration is an investment, not simply a cost. The returns may take time to materialize but the costs of inaction become increasingly apparent : depleted soils, scarce water, degraded landscapes and communities that no longer support the project.
Learning to work with nature
Altanure is one of these projects, rooted in the landscape around Tavira, between the lagoons and sandy shores of the Ria Formosa and the Barrocal, the Algarve’s hinterland of carob, almond and olive trees, red earth and small villages.
Maurice arrived in the Algarve some 40 years ago and put down roots. His vision has been to design natural spaces where nature can flourish and people can reconnect with it.
But the ambition goes beyond restoring gardens or creating beautiful places to stay. Maurice and his team envision an entire bioregion where natural ecosystems, the built environment and human well-being reinforce one another. And where ecological responsibility, commercial viability and the nurturing of peace are part of the same ambition.
Walking through Casa Terra, I am struck by the abundance of greenery, especially in a region where water scarcity is an increasingly pressing concern. How is this possible ?
Maurice talks about observing the natural slopes of the land, working with the soil, composting organic matter (occasionally enriched with horse manure) and choosing plants adapted to local conditions. He describes for example how vetiver, with its deep roots, can help stabilize the land and support other vegetation by bringing nutrients towards the surface. He explains that the garden has been designed to thrive without regular irrigation.
What is fascinating is not any single technique : it is the philosophy behind. Rather than imposing a predetermined landscape, he observes and creates edible forests and landscapes organized in harmony with the extraordinary biotope around.
Maurice explains how healthy soils is the foundation of everything else, how wastewater can be treated through planted gardens, how rainwater can be recovered in ponds and how gardens can be designed to make better use of this precious resource.
In the end, there is something reassuring about this approach. A reminder that we do not need more sophisticated solutions, but rather to recover our ability to observe and work with natural processes.
Healing land, nurturing people
Altanure is about much more than ecological landscaping.
Maurice’s background in psychotherapy and his deep spiritual practice rooted in Tibetan traditions have profoundly influenced his vision. He believes that our relationship with the natural world reflects, and can transform, our relationship with ourselves and others.
The spaces he has created are intended as sanctuaries. Places to slow down, reconnect, find balance, and perhaps allow something to shift within us.
At Casa Terra, even the architecture seems to grow out of the land. Built using taipa, a traditional rammed-earth technique, the house combines natural materials and local craftsmanship with solar energy and water recovery systems. Palm-leaf shutters, locally carved stone, traditional tiles and Portuguese wool textiles complete the picture. The surrounding gardens, regenerated through permaculture, are as much a part of the experience as the house itself.
All naturally come together to create an atmosphere of simplicity and harmony, where people and nature come together and live in mutual respect and symbiosis.
At Almatere, in the heart of Tavira, Maurice has taken the same philosophy into an urban setting. This intimate boutique hotel was designed around the principles of a food forest, with fruit trees, vegetables and medicinal herbs occupying even the smallest spaces, from the garden to the terraces and balconies. An invitation to experience nature not as something outside the city, but as part of everyday urban life.
Hospitality goes beyond accommodation and wellness. Peace is central to the vision ; not only the peace we might experience in a beautiful natural setting, but peace within ourselves and between people. Spaces are designed to nurture both, through contemplation, movement, dialogue and human connection. Maurice has even brought this philosophy to retreats dedicated to dialogue and peacemaking.
In the end, what we experience here speaks deeply to what we believe at Regenopolis : that regeneration of land and of human relationships are not separate ambitions. Both require patience, attention, trust, and the willinglenss to care for something beyond ourselves.
These transformations take time. Yet, sometimes, all it takes to begin is a spark : en encounter, a conversaton or simply fining ourselves in a place that allows us to see things differently.
Beyond the boundary of the property: Altanure as a way of living
Altanure’s ambition does not stop at its own gardens or guesthouses. Maurice and his team seek to bring their approach to hospitality and landscaping projects, creating edible, ecologically designed environments elsewhere in the region.
This is where a personal vision can start creating ripple effect.
And it connects directly with what we are building at Regenopolis.
We believe hospitality can be a powerful catalyst for place-based regeneration, because it touches so many dimensions of a territory at once : land and water, food systems, architecture, culture, local enterprise, human well-being and economic activity.
But its potential depends on looking beyond the property itself.
On asking not only : “what experience can we create for the gueusts ?”, but “what lasting value can we create for the place and the people who call it home ?”.
As I leave Altanure, I keep thinking about the patience required to nurture a living landscape.
You cannot rush a forest into maturity. You cannot force healthy soils into existence. And you cannot manufacture the sense of harmony that comes from a genuine relationship with a place.
You can, however, create the conditions for life to flourish.
This is perhaps the greatest lesson I take back home.
Regeneration begins with intention, grows through care, and reveals its value over time.
And in a world so often focused on what we can extract from land, nature and people, perhaps it is time to ask a different question : “What can we help flourish here, and what will remain long after we are gone ?”
