How to Choose a Coliving: 12 Things to Check First

To choose a coliving, check twelve things before you pay a deposit: the measured internet speed (not "fast WiFi"), where it actually is and how you get there without a car, who else will be staying, whether the workspace is a real desk or a kitchen table, the full price including extras, room temperature and noise, the minimum stay, and how cancellation works. The ones that catch people out are almost always the internet and the extras. We run a coliving in a village of about 100 people, and this is the list we'd use ourselves — including the questions we'd rather you didn't ask us.

• Internet: ask for a number, not an adjective. Ours is dual 600 Mbps fibre, and we publish it live.
• Price: ask what the nightly rate excludes. Ours starts at €50 a night for a Molino room, €72 for a cabin.
• Location: ask for the drive time and the no-car plan. We're 1h15 / 110 km from Madrid via the A-5.
• Commitment: ask the minimum stay and the cancellation deadline before you fall in love with the photos.

What is a coliving, exactly?

A coliving is a stay where you get a private room or cabin of your own plus shared spaces — a kitchen, a living room, usually a workspace — and a community of other guests who are there for the same reason. It sits between a hotel (private but lonely) and a houseshare (social but permanent). Most guests stay a week to a couple of months. If you want the full definition, we wrote a longer piece on what coliving actually means.

The catch is that "coliving" isn't a protected word. Anyone can paint the term on a hostel dorm or a converted apartment and charge a premium for it. That's why the checklist below is mostly about getting specific answers to specific questions.

1. How fast is the internet, really?

This is the single biggest reason remote workers end up unhappy, and it's the easiest thing in the world to be vague about. "Super fast fibre" means nothing. A number means something.

Ask for the download speed, the upload speed, and what happens when it goes down. Upload matters more than people expect — it's what carries your face in a video call. And ask whether there's a second line, because a single fibre in a rural village is one digger away from a very bad Tuesday.

We have two independent 600 Mbps fibre lines, which is less about speed than about redundancy: if one drops, the other carries the call. We also got tired of asking people to take our word for it, so we publish a live internet status page anyone can load before booking. If a coliving won't give you a number, assume the number is bad.

2. Where is it, and how do you get there without a car?

"Near Madrid" is doing a lot of heavy lifting on some websites. Ask for the drive time and the kilometres, then check it yourself on a map. Rural Spain is full of places that are ninety minutes from the nearest anything.

Then ask the harder question: what if you don't have a car? Nuño Gómez is 1h15 from Madrid and Barajas airport, about 110 km down the A-5. Talavera de la Reina — twenty minutes away — is the nearest train and bus hub, and we'll help you sort the last leg. A coliving that has no answer to the no-car question is telling you something about how isolated you'll feel on day four.

3. Who else will be there?

The reason to pick a coliving over an Airbnb is the people, so it's strange how rarely anyone asks about them. How many guests at once? Are they mostly there for a night or a season? Is there anything that actually brings people together, or is "community" just a word on the homepage?

Small places have a different texture than big ones. We have five cabins and five Molino rooms, which means you'll know everyone's name by Wednesday. Some people find that wonderful. Some people find it a lot. Both reactions are fine, but you should know which one you are before you book two months.

4. Is the workspace a real workspace?

Ask for photos of the desk you'll actually sit at, and ask where you take a call when someone else is taking a call. Plenty of "coworking included" turns out to be a communal dining table with a plug nearby, which is fine for email and miserable for a full working week.

Our coworking is 200 m² in the village's old golf clubhouse — ergonomic desks, meeting rooms, video-call booths, a printer, coffee, and outdoor spots for when the weather makes indoors feel silly. It's included free with every coliving stay. The thing to check anywhere is whether the workspace exists as its own room, or as furniture.

5. What's the real price, once the extras land?

Price transparency is one of the most common complaints in coliving, and it usually isn't outright dishonesty — it's a nightly rate that quietly excludes cleaning, linen, a coworking "membership", or a mandatory something.

So ask the blunt version: what does the nightly rate not include? Ours starts at €50 a night for a Molino room and €72 for a private cabin, with coworking, daily cleaning, linen, towels and basic toiletries in the price. A coworking day pass on its own is €25. Longer stays get cheaper per night, and booking direct beats the platforms — we're not paying anyone a commission. We wrote a full cost breakdown separately if you want the numbers in one place.

6. What are the rooms like when it's 38 degrees?

Almost nobody asks about temperature until July, and then it's the only thing they can think about. Castilian summers are hot and honest about it. Ask whether the rooms have air conditioning, and don't accept "it stays cool naturally" as an answer in a region that hits the high thirties.

Every cabin and every Molino room here has air conditioning. The village pool is free for our guests and open in July and August, which is when you'll want it. Also ask about noise, because rural doesn't mean silent — you'll trade traffic for a rooster, a church bell, and occasionally a cow with opinions.

7. How long are you locked in?

Minimum stays vary wildly, and the number is worth knowing before the photos do their work on you. Ask the minimum, ask whether it changes by season, and ask what happens if you leave early.

Then ask about cancellation while you still feel unromantic about it. Ours: 25% deposit to book, balance on arrival, full refund of the deposit if you cancel more than 30 days out, non-refundable inside 30 days. That's a normal shape for the industry. What you're checking for is whether they'll tell you plainly.

8. Who shouldn't come?

This is the question that tells you the most, because the answer "everyone's welcome!" is a marketing reflex, not a fact. Every place suits someone and fails someone else.

Here's ours. Don't come to Hamlet's Friends if you want nightlife — the village has about 100 people, a taberna, and a shop. Don't come if you need a supermarket at midnight, or a gym, or to be anonymous. Don't come in August expecting cool evenings. And if your idea of a workation is a beach twenty minutes away, we're an hour inland in the wrong direction. We're good for people who want oak trees, a real desk, dinner with strangers who stop being strangers, and enough quiet to finish the thing they've been not-finishing for a year.

The other four, quickly

1. Booking and arrival: how do you pay, and what do they need from you? Spanish law makes every host register guests, so an ID scan before arrival is normal, not a red flag.
2. Food: is there a kitchen you can actually cook in, and is there anywhere to eat within walking distance if you can't face it? Ours is a two-minute walk.
3. Pets: if it matters, ask early. Ours are welcome — well-behaved dogs and cats up to 20 kg, agreed when you book.
4. Reviews: read the three-star ones. They're the only ones that tell you anything.

The short version

Ask for numbers instead of adjectives, ask what the price excludes, and ask who the place doesn't suit. Any coliving worth your deposit will answer all three without flinching. If you want to run the checklist on us, the coliving page has the rooms and rates, and we answer the emails ourselves.