My favourite Airbnb: a barefoot hideaway in the treetops of Stockholm

Inside, we exhale. Bleached pine beams line the ceiling and frame enormous windows, which flood the space with light and send shadows of leaves dancing across the concrete floor. At Stenberg’s suggestion, we remove our shoes and feel the cool of the original concrete foundation beneath our feet, shaved down to create a natural terrazzo.

Nature is clearly the designer’s muse; every effort made to dissolve the boundary between indoors and out. On one side, the water glints through the treetops. On the other, a window frames the jagged cliff wall, which stands tall like a sculpture in a gallery; the main character around which the house revolves.

Originally built as a calling card for his practice, Stenberg’s hand is everywhere. The stairs are industrial metal, pattering lightly underfoot. Upstairs, his boucle furniture invites you to sink in and lose hours staring out at the water.

Even the bathroom feels elemental. Built from Swedish granite, it’s dark and cave-like, with just a sliver of treetop visible from a high-set window. The sink, carved from an outdoor paving stone, has been chiselled into a shallow bowl in another nod to nature and craftsmanship.

That evening we head to Saint Eriksplan for dinner at Portal, one of Stenberg’s favourite restaurants. But before we leave, there’s time to watch the light fade with an aperitivo in the downstairs dining space. It’s fitted with SMEG appliances and seamless cabinetry, cupboards hidden behind sleek white panels. Even inside them, a sense of calm prevails – every piece of glassware delicately ordered.

Åke E:son Lindman

Dinner is, of course, exquisite. With Stenberg’s eye for quality and taste, we take all of his recommendations, starting with the Love Stew and finishing with six Madeleines dipped in warm dark chocolate sauce.

The next morning, cocooned in the upstairs of the two minimalist double bedrooms, I watch a smattering of rain hit the windows and realise that despite my love of summer, there’s something tempting about holing up here in winter.

No stay on Stora Essingen would be complete without a morning swim, so after coffee, we walk ten minutes to one of the island’s popular jetties. The water is glassy and cold and we sink in with only a slight shudder. On the way back, the smell of cinnamon pulls us into Bonne Femme, a bakery located just 400m from the house, where we leave with warm kanelbullar and sourdough for breakfast.

As I shut the door on a magical two nights at The Charred House, I’m reminded that it’s simple luxury that Swedish living does best. Functional, unpretentious and effortlessly classy, the house wraps itself around you like a warm hug. Stay forever? I think I could.