Drive down a gravel lane, past fields tossed with sheep and ancient oaks, and you’ll eventually find yourself at Netherby Treehouse on the Netherby Estate. It’s one of those places where the air smells different — quieter, softer, like the world wants you to slow down. Nestled high enough to peer across fields and down to the Border Esk (yes, the river that scratches at the edge of Scotland), this place doesn’t feel remote. It feels right.
When you arrive, the hosts don’t hand you a key and walk away. No. They hand you a basket of local, seasonal goodies — fresh eggs, preserves, maybe something from the orchard. The kind of welcome that says: you’re not staying in a house; you’re stepping into a piece of this land. From there, an elevated walkway snakes off the treehouse and folds into an old oak. Step out there, breathe in that border air, and just let everything soften for a second.
Inside, the heart is a rugged wood burner, flames flickering across a cozy sitting nook. That corner couch? It invites you to curl up, stretch out, maybe not move for hours. The kitchen is modern — full of gadgets and clever touches — so yes, you can cook, even if it feels a little indulgent up here. Kids (or the kid in you) will find a ladder leading to a mezzanine where two single beds await, tucked under rooflines and whispers of dreams.
And then there’s the hot tub. It sits in a garden just below — partly hidden, partly expectant. Dip in at dusk. Watch the sky deepen. Let water blur the boundaries between you and the evening. It’s the sort of quiet luxury that doesn’t need to shout.
Out the windows and from every angle, the views are something to pause for. The estate’s parkland fans out. The Border Esk curves. Oak branches frame the distance. Flocks wander. Mist drifts in the morning. You’ll see deer, maybe a fox, and lots of sky. Solitude here isn’t emptiness — it’s presence.
The treehouse usually asks for a two-night minimum, which seems fair. By the end of one night, you’ll already feel like you’re part of the story. Rates begin around €220 per night, though seasons shift things a bit. (Summer rates might nudge it upward; winter might whisper discounts.)
There’s no clutter here. No high art, just real textures — wood, slate, fabric worn-in just right. And there’s something slightly messy, human even, about how the branches press close, or how a stray leaf might fall through a gap, or how you might lose yourself in the silence. But in a good way.
Netherby Treehouse isn’t about escapism. It’s about remembrance — remembering that quiet can be deep, that borders are often soft, that sleeping under trees and over rivers can teach you to breathe differently.
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