At nortehaus, we move past the tired notion of hosting as transaction, where keys are handed over and photo moments are staged. We wanted to create a space—for release, for the quiet that modern life seldom permits. When Sam and I built nortehaus, we weren't aiming to be “hosts.”
We wanted an escape from the velocity of our digital days. A place to rediscover each other, the land, and the stretch of time itself. What emerged was more than a rental; it became a rhythm.
Beyond a Stay: Designing for Intentional Living
We’re often told that nortehaus doesn’t feel like an Airbnb. There’s no checklist of clichés, no IKEA furniture, no empty gestures. Every object has a purpose, every sightline is considered. From the freestanding tub overlooking the forest to the sauna cradled by the Gull River’s bend, everything exists to encourage pause.
Our design principles are rooted in Japandi minimalism—clean, functional, warm. But more importantly, they’re grounded in restraint. We resisted overfilling the space so it could breathe, and so could our guests.
Hospitality Without Interference
Invisible when we can be, helpful when needed. You won’t find us hovering, but the readiness of the kitchen, the way the sauna holds its heat, shows our thoughtfulness. It’s care that doesn’t chase applause, a quiet confidence suggesting someone considered you before you arrived.
Nature Sets the Pace
The Gull River doesn’t freeze, nor does it rush. It curves and bends, meandering with a gentle, unhurried grace that has become our metaphor here at nortehaus. It’s the kind of place where days unfold rather than fill up. Where guests grow accustomed to time’s slower stretch. They let go of itineraries, wade into novels, take long naps, and cook meals without recipes.
They become less like tourists and more like settlers, sinking into the kind of rarified calm that modern life seldom permits: A couple, who arrived with laptops and left them untouched, wrote “We unplugged, truly.” Another, whose calendar is usually a crush of meetings, said “Our bodies are back in sync.”
One family, who spent hours in the sauna, called it “The best kind of tired.” These are the stories that matter to us—not escape, but a deliberate retreat into something deeper.
A Place That Adapts to Your Life Chapter
Every chapter of life has unfolded here: honeymoons, sabbaticals, solo retreats, family reconnections. We've seen new parents marveling at their first glimpse of stillness and dogs that outrun their leashes. Everyone arrives with a rhythm uniquely theirs. Some play old records and lose themselves in the slow ritual of cooking. Others linger in the sauna’s warmth until their thoughts are light. The best kind of hospitality doesn’t tell you how to be—it offers a quiet stage for you to discover your own way.
Build the Thing You Dream Of
In hindsight, we were probably naive. Building during a pandemic, relocating countries, preparing for parenthood—all at once. The weight of it left us wondering if we were reckless or resilient, but it taught us something enduring: If you dream of what’s not there, it’s your cue to create.
That’s nortehaus—a dream, made tangible. A place to find clarity in chaos, serenity in speed. A place where life isn’t a list of tasks but an unfolding. It’s not a hotel. Not an Airbnb. It doesn’t chase trends.
It simply is. And that, I think, is enough.
—Willy
Co-founder, nortehaus
