Our story
Ivo and Lu spent every free weekend for over a year driving out from Quito to look at land. Most of it wasn’t right — too close to a road, too far from water, too tame. Then a friend, Carlin, told them about a piece of forest on the Hollín River that nobody had managed to walk all the way through. There were no trails. No map worth trusting. They went anyway, with their son Isaac, and stood at the river not really talking. Lu still had her checklist in her bag. She never took it out. That was the place. Kuyana was never a real estate project — it was a decision about how they wanted to live, and the forest they’d spend the next years learning to take care of.
