How one family built a regenerative farm around a rescued joglo in Bali
What began as a one-year move from Singapore became a complete lifestyle shift. In Sibang, Bali, Heveya CEO Stefan Magnus and his family now live among fruit trees, stingless bees and vegetable gardens centred around a rescued Javanese joglo.
Stefan Magnus, founder and CEO of Heveya, at his homestead on Heveya Farm Sibang in Bali. (Photo: Heveya)
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When Heveya CEO Stefan Magnus came across a restored joglo – a traditional Javanese wooden structure – in Bali, he set out to give it a new lease of life and, in the process, embarked on a journey into Balinese philosophy and regenerative living.
Having lived in Singapore for the last 27 years, the plan was to spend a year in Bali for a change of pace. His wife is Indonesian, so the transition felt natural. Then the pandemic hit, and what began as a temporary move became something more permanent.
From 2018 to 2023, the family was based in a villa in Canggu. But living in Bali also brought a different kind of reckoning. “On one hand, Bali is incredibly beautiful, the nature, the friendliness of the people. But on the other hand, Bali is grappling with rapid development, and waste management challenges,” he explained.
For Magnus – whose brand specialises in sustainable, organic natural latex mattresses and eco-friendly bedding – it only deepened his conviction to live more intentionally.

A SECOND LIFE
That search eventually led Magnus to Sibang, between Ubud and Canggu, where he bought a piece of land opposite Green School Bali, an international school focused on sustainability that his 10-year-old son attends.
There, they gave new life to a rescued joglo that had been carefully dismantled from its original site and rebuilt on the property rather than demolished. The practice is common in Bali as it is faster, more affordable and considerably more environmentally sound than building with concrete from scratch.

Magnus found himself regularly approached by people, suggesting he subdivide the remaining land into rental villas, the common way of generating returns from property in Bali. He declined. “We found value in something else: the quietness, the space, the connection to nature. That gives us a fulfilment that’s not easy to find in many places now.”
Measuring 15m by 15m, the joglo functions as a single large bedroom. With few doors or windows, it remains largely open throughout the day and is centred around a Heveya organic latex mattress and natural bedding.


A wide balcony, where the family spends most of their time, faces the jungle on one side and the farm on the other. Reclaimed wood forms both the structure and the flooring.
Nearby, a dining area and outdoor kitchen sit adjacent to the joglo. The dining space is anchored by a long table made from recycled chopsticks and bamboo, while garden chairs are fashioned from recycled plastic collected from Balinese rivers.
The home’s open-air bathroom features a carved Onyx stone tub and natural ironwood or Ulin wood detailing, and is framed by lush tropical foliage.
LEARNING FROM THE LAND

But it is the surrounding land that has brought the greatest changes to their lives.
At 1.3 hectares, Heveya Farm Sibang – the family’s regenerative farm – is home to a brood of chickens and ducks, 100 raised beds of leafy greens, and fruiting trees such as mangoes, papayas, and more. The beds are deliberately built above ground, as digging into the soil disrupts the microbial life within it. No pesticides are used, and vegetables are planted in combinations that protect one another, ensuring biodiversity across the farm. Sunda porcupines occasionally raid the peanuts, and birds feast on the papayas, but Magnus is unbothered. “We’re happy to share the space with the animals.”

The landscape itself was left largely as found, not flattened or reconfigured. Water is directed naturally across the land through an irrigation system, rather than channelled into drains. As the joglo is raised off the ground, rainwater can seep beneath it and into the soil, rather than running straight into rivers and the ocean.


The farm also hosts 32 hives of stingless bees, from which only about 20 per cent of the honey is harvested. A black soldier fly area produces protein-rich larvae fed to the chickens, keeping them healthy without antibiotic intervention. Earthworm composting takes place in a repurposed old bathtub; the resulting liquid is mixed with biochar and used to fertilise the land. The farm is largely tended by Magnus’ wife and three staff members, with plenty of DIY experimentation, YouTube tutorials and trial and error along the way. “We see what nature tells us,” he said.
He added, “There’s a sense of fulfilment in eating what you grow, watching it go from seed to plant to plate. It gives you a connection to your food that’s not easy to find these days.”

Over time, the Heveya Farm Sibang has become something of a community resource. Produce is shared with those who work the land, with neighbours, and with the wider community, who are welcome to help themselves. Nearby restaurants have standing arrangements – a neighbouring spot gets first pick of the aloe vera whenever they need it, for instance. In return, neighbours contribute their organic waste back to the compost system.
Word has spread about the project. The farm now receives daily visitors and has formed a partnership with the Forest School, where visits form part of the orientation programme for new students and parents. “I share with them that you don’t need traditional lawns and flower beds for beautiful landscaping,” Magnus said. “A vegetable farm and fruit trees can be just as architectural, and when you combine that with a real connection to your own food, that’s genuinely inspiring for people.”
LESS, BY DESIGN

Their son, once very much a city boy, is perhaps the clearest measure of how much has changed. “The first time he was brought to the beach, he screamed at the sensation of sand on his bare feet. Now he goes everywhere barefoot,” Magnus shared.
For the family, life has simplified considerably. Magnus spends his free time cycling around the rice fields with his family, playing padel and exploring quieter parts of the island, away from the bustle of Canggu’s buzzy cafe scene and Uluwatu’s surf crowds. His advice to friends is to stay in one place longer rather than rushing through.
In this environment, you need far less. When you focus on the quality of your food and the things you buy, you need less of them, because they last longer and they’re healthier. It’s slower living, by design, he said.
That ethos has further sharpened the Heveya brand. “Moving here reinforced the whole concept,” Magnus said. “Beyond the comfort of sleep, what sets the brand apart is a genuine care for the customer as a person, and for the environment.”
A recent bed frame addition to the range illustrates the point. Magnus refused to use polyurethane foam, which breaks down into microplastics that eventually enter rivers and soil. Instead, the Lusso Upholstered Bedframe is crafted from teak and oak by a local Balinese craftsman, with upcycled natural latex and organic cotton softening the edges around the wood.

For friends still living in cities, Magnus advocates for small shifts rather than wholesale upheaval.
“Even if you have a small piece of land or a balcony, you can grow your own vegetables. When people come here, they aren’t wowed by a luxurious villa – this isn’t that,” he said. “But there’s an emotional connection. They want to give it a hug. The open space, the wood, the soul it carries. It shows that a totally different way of living is possible.”
Source: CNA/bt
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