a little place,
for two.
Our Dacha is a private world for the two of you. A home you tend together, a town to wander, a market with keepers who know your name, letters sealed in wax, a daily question you answer blind, and a warm press that reaches across any distance.
for the two of you, and no one else.
The five doors
five doors, one home.
Open the app and you are simply home. Nothing scrolls forever; nothing here is performed for an audience. The shell holds everything, and the warm ember in the middle is always one press away.
The town
six stops down the lane.
Step out from the dacha and the lane is waiting: lit windows, the lake holding the last light, a stair winding up the crag. Every stop keeps its own small ceremony.
- 01the marketstriped awnings, warm shelves, keepers who greet you by name.
- 02post officeletters and postcards, written at length and sealed with wax.
- 03the bankthe shared pool, your own wallet, every Lunari accounted for.
- 04the lakecast off the dock; the legendary ones are earned.
- 05the animal parkseventy-plus neighbours to pet, feed, and slowly befriend.
- 06dark forestmoon-gated. opens only under a full moon; come back together.
By the water
cast, wait, reel.
Fishing is a whole little adventure, and one you can lose. The lake wears the hour's light, dawn amber to deep night, and what swims below runs from the everyday to the legendary.
Arc the line out over the water; the bobber lands with a ring and the evening goes quiet.
Stillness, then the ring tightens. Set the hook in the moment it flashes, not a breath later.
The fish runs; you reel. Keep the tension out of the red or the line snaps and the story gets away.
perch
trout
salmon
taimen
Along the fence
green thumbs, wet noses.
The beds ask for real care, and they show it honestly: richer soil where compost went in, a little dry if you skipped a day. Down the lane, the park's residents wander up on their own schedule.
Till, plant, water, gather, each its own small ritual done by hand. Greenhouse beds grow anything, all year round, straight into your shared pantry.
Seventy-plus neighbours across four rarities, from ducks and hares to a certain bear. Treats are sold at roots & reels; friendship is earned in visits.
duck
hedgehog
fox
bear
pet · feed a treat · watch
Pinned to the lamppost
a little economy, never for real money.
Lunari is the dacha's moon-gold coin, earned by living here: a bit each day, a bonus when you are both home, small change for kind gestures. It can never be bought with real money, and there is nothing to purchase inside this world.
The street
real shelves, kept by real characters.
Wares stand on warm wood planks under kraft price tags, gold for the rare and the seasonal. Tap to drop one in the basket, long-press to put it back. Groceries stock the pantry at home; gifts travel with a note.
01the cafe
02the russian shop
03comforts
04curio
05the flower stand
06roots & reels
07sweets
08the cellar
walk the street → · tap a storefront in the app to enter its layered interior
flowers
fresh fruit
the bakery
sweets
"morning, love. the tulips came in early." the florist · every keeper knows your name
At the gate
affection, one warm press away.
The ember sits at the centre of the shell. Press it and a hug, a kiss, or something softer crosses the distance and lands as a real buzz in their hand, paced an hour apart so each one keeps its weight.
hug
kiss
cuddle
hold hands
snuggle
forehead
slow dance
blow a kiss
miss you
goodnight
sweet, flirty, and a private set behind its own door.
The house
explore your dacha, room to room.
The dacha is one continuous home in gentle depth: the hearth, the kitchen, the moonlit conservatory, with multiple interaction points and ways to stay connected.
wall gallerydiarychatgamesthe cabinetcalendarfridge notescoffee for tworecipesstar mapmood gardenthe benchthe beds
Choose the paper, write at length, press the wax. It stays sealed until they break it open, and mail is announced the moment it arrives.
Neither of you sees the other's words until both are written; then they reveal side by side, at the same moment.
One conversation, two people, read receipts and nothing else. Photos hang on the wall gallery with their own small threads underneath.
On the nightstand
a rhythm, shared gently.
One of you keeps the journal: daily check-ins, a month wheel, honest predictions. The other sees exactly as much as they are shown, and learns without asking when to bring tea and when to bring quiet. Opt-in, owner-controlled, and as private as everything else here.
today · ovulation · "feeling bright. be silly with me."
and in the drawer: map · numbers · touch · dates
Through the windows
six ways to be home.
Dusk is how the dacha wakes, but the whole world repaints at a touch: cabin's timber warmth, forest's deep green, midnight's quiet blue, and meadow and blush for the two of you who live in daylight.
Carved on the wall
No feed. No ads. No followers. No metrics.
Your dacha lives on our servers, not someone else's cloud, and the walls between homes are enforced by the database itself, so the only two people who can open yours are the two of you. No trackers, no analytics, and no data broker will ever hear of you; there is no business here built on your data. The short list of helpers the app does use, for weather, map tiles, place names, and notification delivery, is named plainly in our privacy policy. Even the examples on this page, every note, number, and answer, are invented.
- our own servers, walls in the database
- never sold, never shared, no ads
- made for exactly two people
- even our examples are invented
The plans
simple, honest pricing.
One subscription keeps the whole dacha open. Monthly or yearly, with a two-week free trial. No ads, nothing to buy inside, and Lunari is never real money.
Covers you, on every device you use.
- the whole shared world
- monthly or yearly
- two-week free trial
One plan for the two of you, both accounts paired.
- everything, for both of you
- one bill, both covered
- two-week free trial
If a plan ever lapses, your world is never deleted: it becomes a read-only archive you can still browse and export in full, and it wakes the day you return. Everything runs in your browser to try today.
On the doorstep
the honest small print.
01How much does Our Dacha cost?
Full access uses a simple subscription: an individual plan that covers you, or a couple plan that covers both of you, billed monthly or yearly, with a two-week free trial. There are no ads and nothing to buy inside. You can try the whole app in your browser today, and when the iPhone and Android apps arrive, your world comes with you.
02How does pairing work?
One of you creates the dacha and gets a one-time invite code; the other redeems it. From then on your dacha holds exactly two accounts. There is no way for a third person to join, follow, or peek in.
03Can I buy Lunari or gifts with real money?
No, and you never will. Lunari, gifts, seeds, and every other little thing in the dacha are fictional and can only be earned by the two of you. Nothing can be purchased, redeemed, or exchanged, which keeps the economy sweet and the app free of dark patterns.
04What happens if we stop subscribing?
Your world is never deleted for not paying. It becomes a read-only archive: you can still browse everything you made, and "download everything" exports it all (structured JSON, a readable PDF, and your original photos and media) in one ZIP. Resubscribe and it wakes right back up.
05Is our world really private?
Yes. Your data lives on our servers, couple-scoped and enforced by the database itself, and travels encrypted. There are no ads, no trackers, no analytics, and nothing is ever sold or shared. The complete story, including the short list of services we rely on, is in the privacy policy.
06Who can see the cycle journal?
Only its owner, plus exactly as much as the owner chooses to show their partner, from nothing at all to gentle phase context. Sharing can be changed or switched off at any moment, and the space can be deleted entirely.
07How do I delete my account?
In the app: Settings → Account → Delete account. If you can no longer sign in, you can request deletion by email instead. The account deletion page walks through both paths and says exactly what is removed, and you can export your whole world first.
08How old do I have to be?
At least 13, and old enough to consent to an online service where you live. Our Dacha is designed for adults sharing a life together.
set small, hiding nothing.
Come in
the door's open.
It's dusk at the dacha, the glasshouse is lit, and the door is open. Come in tonight; let the apps follow when they're ready.
for now, the badges open the web app
Made by hand at Dacha Town →