a cozy gathering place in Second Life ~ est. in the metaverse
It started in February of 2023 — quietly, without ceremony. A plot of land on Zindra, a building going up, a sign over the door. Something to do. Somewhere to belong. The community that called it into being has since drifted and dissolved, the way communities do, like morning fog over a field. But the café is still here. Still lit. Still warm.
The land remembers what it used to be. Old farmland, slowly softened into something suburban — a park where the fields once were, a street where dirt tracks ran, and right at the edge of it all, a café that took root and stayed. You can feel it in the name if you let yourself. The Dyck Farm didn't disappear. It just learned to make coffee.
These days the place belongs to the people who keep coming back. A loose, easy constellation of regulars — some here since the beginning, some who wandered in one afternoon and never quite found a reason to leave. Nobody comes to Dyck Farm Café for the occasion. They come because it's there, because it's quiet, because sometimes a place just fits the shape of you.
Find us on Zindra, in the region of Kuradov — at the edge of a park, just where the old farmland gives way to something greener. It's a small-town kind of café in the truest sense: less destination, more somewhere you end up, and find yourself glad you did.
There are seats inside, and an open stretch outside that breathes easy even when it fills up. The park beyond is open to anyone who wanders past — no cover charge, no questions. At the counter there's a ticket system that keeps things moving. Beyond that, the day is yours to spend however slowly you like.
Every place like this has its people — the ones who give it its character, its warmth, its reason for being. Dyck Farm Café is no different.
And then there are the regulars — no titles, no introductions needed. They've made this their corner of the grid, the place they come back to when the rest of Second Life gets too loud. You'll know them when you meet them. They'll make room.
Dyck Farm Café isn't chasing anything. No theme nights, no content calendar, no carefully curated aesthetic. It's a place on the internet built the old way — by hand, with care, because someone wanted it to exist and went ahead and made it. You can sit down, order something warm, and not have to perform being anywhere. Just be here.
The regulars will nod. The conversation will find you eventually. The coffee will be exactly what you needed.
The door's always open. Come find us.