You’re dreaming at…

DECHIU HOTEL

Vietnam

An artist’s guesthouse hidden between the river and the rice fields, where time drips like paint and every surface holds a story.

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WILDLY PLACED: Midway between Hội An’s old town and the sea, tucked in An Bang’s quiet lanes.

EDITORIAL VIBE: Mid-century museum meets coastal meditation space, like Joan Didion wrote a novel in terracotta and linen.

CORE PILLARS: Art as soulwork, hospitality as ritual, heritage as everyday.

MUSE MOOD: She moves barefoot through gallery-lit corridors, eats mango with lime on the balcony, then bikes to the beach with a sketchbook in her straw bag.

BEST TIME TO GO: February to May, when Hội An glows soft and gold and the rice fields shimmer like silk.

THE LOOK: Burnt sienna walls, antique lighting, driftwood sculptures, breezy cotton everything.

WHO'S IT FOR: Design pilgrims, ceramic collectors, introverted creatives, and anyone allergic to mass luxury.

INDULGENCE SPECTRUM: From USD$95 per night , soulful simplicity with sharp edges.

Dechiu is a conversation. Between silence and sculpture. Between heritage and intuition. Between your breath and the warm hum of Hội An’s tide. It’s the kind of place where time folds gently, where the rustle of linen curtains feels like a story being told, and where each detail exists with quiet intent.

Created by artist and interior designer Trúc Mai, every corner is a curatorial whisper, a ceramic pot placed just so, a framed poem that feels like a private message, a window left open to let in the voice of the sea. There are no keys here, only invitations. No check-in counter, only tea. A rhythm that asks you to slow down, breathe deeper, and let your nervous system exhale.

Nine rooms. Each different. Each textured with Vietnamese woods, reclaimed iron, silk, and story. Some have deep soaking tubs for long moonlit pauses.

Others a writing desk placed beneath a woven pendant, where letters feel easier to begin. All have soul. This is the kind of place where you unpack slowly - physically, emotionally - as if each drawer and quiet corner reminds you who you are.

You’ll eat breakfast made with herbs grown in Mai’s garden, sip Vietnamese drip coffee poured into hand-thrown cups, then wander down to An Bang beach with sand between your fingers and art in your lungs. Later, you might join a dyeing workshop in the back courtyard, or sit in the reading nook long enough for a sunbeam to shift across your lap.

Dechiu doesn’t try to impress you. It doesn’t brand itself as boutique. It remembers who you were before the inbox. Before urgency. And it holds space for her to come back - gently, fully, and at her own pace.

DECHIU’S BEATING HEART

Room No.9 is more than a gallery, it’s a living breath of the house. A quiet studio space where artists from across Vietnam come to pause, create, and converse with the space. Some mornings you’ll hear the scratch of charcoal on rice paper. Other times, incense curls through the doorway as poetry is recited into the walls. Art here doesn’t hang, it dwells. It waits. It listens with you.

The SLOJOURN spark

FIRST. You arrive through an unmarked wooden door , no sign, just stillness.

SECOND. The scent , a blend of lime leaf, incense ash, and sea salt.

THIRD. The in-room library , Vietnamese fiction, architectural essays, handpicked and handwritten.

Where you dwell

LOVED UP COUPLES or LONE RANGERS
Garden Room

Rooms are tactile retreats. Stucco walls that hold stories in their texture. Vintage fans that turn like gentle timekeepers. Books instead of TV, thoughtfully stacked with dog-eared corners and underlined lines left behind by kindred souls. Baths that echo with silence, deep and meditative. And beds that feel like sanctuaries — not just for sleep, but for dream, retreat, and reentry into yourself.

Each room carries the spirit of slow making, with handwoven textiles, ceramic light pulls, and door handles that feel like they were chosen, not sourced. The furniture hums with intention. The corners invite stillness.

If you’re lucky, you’ll land in a corner suite where light pours in like warm tea, soft and amber, curling along the walls like incense smoke. And in that light, you might find yourself remembering something you didn’t know you’d forgotten.

DON’T SLEEP ON THESE ROOMS (BUT DO SLEEP IN THEM)

GROUPS OF FRIENDS
Terrace Room

LA FAMILIA
Rooftop Room

The art of living

Begin with a clay cup of coffee, rich and earthy, poured slowly beside an open window as the morning hums awake. End with barefoot dusk walks through salt-kissed alleyways, the last light catching on terracotta walls, the hush of the sea in the distance.

In between: journaling in a linen robe still warm from the sun, sketching half-dreams and wildflowers, cooking slow lunches with ingredients chosen by intuition, not recipe. Reading under a ceiling fan as birds trace the sky beyond.

You’ll do less here, but every moment will stretch, deepen, and echo like a page you return to long after the chapter closes.

The forever lens

WATER: Ceramic jugs in every room. No plastic. Rain collection system behind the garden.
WASTE: Compost bins in the kitchen. Local ceramicware replaces disposables. Linen napkins, always.
ARCHITECTURE: Designed using salvaged materials , driftwood, vintage shutters, terracotta tiles. Built by local artisans without excess.
ENERGY: Minimal artificial lighting. Ceiling fans over air-con. Thick walls that hold cool. Shade that thinks.

The together lens

Dechiu isn’t just Vietnamese-owned , it’s Vietnamese-hearted. Trúc Mai hires local women, sources every piece from regional artisans, and uses the space to platform emerging voices.
Workshops in herbal dyeing, woodcut printing, and tea meditation invite guests into the artistic soul of the village. This isn’t performance. It’s participation.

The take it with you

• A hand-sketched recipe for lotus tea eggs
• A linen robe you’ll never find again
• A box of Hội An lantern charms, folded by a local maker to hold light and story
• A packet of fresh herbs from Mai’s garden to dry at home
• A slower pulse

WE SLOJOURNED HERE

“Dechiu felt like a handwritten note from the universe. A place where time kneels down beside you and cracks you open with creativity. We left carrying fewer things, and somehow, more of ourselves.”

The ways you can move

SLOJOURN is a members-only platform for the new vanguard of conscious travellers. That’s you.

In that vein, we support a multitude of ways to book your travel.

Book directly with SLOJOURN’S travel team (we just don’t book flights, friend).
Book via our preferred travel partners that we can connect you with.
Use this as your guide and DIY your way through the world (love that for you, just take note of the destinations that prohibit this such as Bhutan, Socotra… etc.)