The small boutique hotel is a “home away from home” in Ærøskøbing, providing guests with a unique and highly personal hotel experience
Photography courtesy of The Monica
Words by Dorothea Gundtoft
On the picturesque island of Ærø, between the shores of Germany and Denmark, lies a magical boutique stay in the house of the once-model and globetrotter Monica Conradsen. I’d been stressing about travelling to international design fairs, needing a getaway that truly felt far away, yet nothing like the Caribbean. I’d just attended the inspiring Enter Art Fair in Copenhagen and heard about the island hotel The Monica – any design aficionado’s dream.
I rented a car and managed to speed through traffic (a four-hour drive) from Copenhagen to the south of the island Fyn to arrive in time for the ferry. The seventy-minute boat trip takes you through the most beautiful landscape of smaller islands, resembling a miniature edition of the Stockholm archipelago. When I finally sat down on the deck with the wind in my hair, I could finally sigh a long relief and breathe in the fresh salty air; nothing seemed calmer or more soothing.
Luxury travel has changed in recent years. Once, it was all about the room service, the golden taps, an extensive list of spa treatments, and exaggerated morning buffets. Still, many of us have grown tired of the impersonal experiences, instead craving something special and different from everything else on offer.
Photography courtesy of The Monica
When I drove onto the island and through the tiny, cobbled streets, I felt transported back to some 18th century film set. Like an array of pastel sweets, the pale palette-coloured houses all had two identical Persian dog sculptures watching you from the windows. If the dogs are facing the street, it historically means that the wife is waiting for her husband who’s out at sea, or if they’re facing the living room, he’s at home, and therefore, safe.
In the distance, I saw a woman with slicked-back hair, wearing an oversized coat and round spectacles, waving at me. I recognised her from the pictures, it was the owner, Monica. ‘You’re not allowed to park here because of the fire risk,’ she demanded. I chuckled at the request and quickly found a place by the harbour.
When I entered the dark hallway of the old townhouse hotel, I felt embraced by the wonderful plum-coloured panels and the stripy hand-painted wallpaper. ‘What tea would you like,’ Monica sang from the autumn-green kitchen, designed by herself with a helping-hand from a local carpenter. ‘We’ve baked a few cakes for you; please take a seat,’ she said warmly.
Monica had lived across the world from Hong Kong to Africa – her home is filled with small objects and memories from the British River Café cookbooks to her oriental way of serving up anything with elegance, hinting back to her international life on the road.
Photography courtesy of The Monica
I generally felt I was staying with the iconic author and baroness Karen Blixen, who was famous for the ‘Out of Africa’ book, just like ‘Babette’s Feast’ and her impeccable style. A Japanese tea ceremony arrived with home-baked classic Danish cakes, taking me right back to childhood. ‘You know there’s a landing strip here for private jets,’ Monica exclaimed.
Several celebrities and American billionaires had already been guests at her secret home away from home. ‘They rent all three rooms, converting it into an island home, where I’m the hostess. My assistant used to work at a Michelin restaurant in Hamburg, so she helps me in the kitchen, but I do everything myself. The food is mostly sourced locally; we only serve you the best seasonal produce available.’ Of course, Monica didn’t want to mention any names of famous guests – it was all about being discreet here.
Every corner of the house had been renovated using the finest materials – hand-painted wallpapers from the Danish designer Helene Blanche, and all the paint was by Farrow and Ball, in the most absurd yet beautiful colour combinations. Monica showed me to my room, a separate cottage with a petite private garden full of herbs. My jaw dropped when I saw the bathtub – a jade-coloured centre piece from Aquadomo.
The bed linen was crisp and soft, from the Danish heritage brand Geismars, and the bathroom was decked out with plenty of products from another favourite: Frama, the Copenhagen-based furniture brand and apothecary-shop, stocked with pretty soaps, body lotions, and perfumes in stylish bottles.
Photography courtesy of The Monica
There was a fine selection of design books in eye-candy colours, and upstairs a library full of inspiration. The walls were covered in art, some made by Monica’s artist boyfriend, mixed with vintage gems and designer lamps – all very stylish, yet simple and calming.
I took a late afternoon walk around the village. I was surprised by the array of well-assorted boutiques, such as Denmark’s second oldest bookshop with an impressive international selection of authors from Deborah Levy to Ali Smith – or a paper-shop specialised in personalised calendars, envelopes, and hand-made accessories. When I returned to the hotel, Monica was busy cooking and baking up a storm with her assistant.
They poured me a glass of wine, which was one of my favourite, (probably not a coincidence with her level of detail), the Spanish PSI, Pingus, by the Danish winemaker Peter Sisseck. Monica had secured the best free-range herb-fed lamb from a Danish farmer, served with rosemary from the garden and seasonal vegetables.
Photography courtesy of The Monica
All the food was placed on beautiful ceramic plates made by a local ceramist. We shared the dish and talked about her life, living alone on an island. ‘Everyone thinks this island is only for the summer, but it’s just as beautiful in the winter when the trees are like naked sculptures, snow is falling, and our village transforms into a winter fairy tale.’
Only a few people believed in her project of transforming an old house on an island into an upscale boutique hotel. Still, it has made the island thrive with small, personalised hotels appearing, alongside interesting people, from artists to entrepreneurs, deciding to settle down and grow a business. I met a quirky Danish-French couple who had moved there from Paris to create a salon with literature events and a communal bowling alley. They answered my burning question: where do you go out here? With a wink and a laugh, everybody knows everyone and often invites each other to parties, late-night soirées of wine, or visits to the local art-house cinema.
Immediately, I booked a ticket for a film but laughed at the fact that you had to phone the cinema and leave a message with your request. If they didn’t reply, you’d secured a ticket. The cinema was like everything else on the island: peculiar, old-school, with a sit-where-you-want system, but still a great selection of films. I watched ‘Tove’s Room’, a film about the eccentric Danish author Tove Ditlevsen. I left buzzing, wondering whether I should also settle down on this enchanting island. ‘Talk to the German artist on the other side of the street, she might be able to help you, if you want to live here,’ Monica said.
Photography courtesy of The Monica
Gerlinde had settled on the island and created a gallery with a guest room where she could host international artists if they came by for a stay. She showed me the neighbouring house, a fairy-tale townhouse from the 18th century, complete with an herb garden that she was willing to rent out cheaply. I was suddenly considering moving to a distant island, even though I’d only been there for two days.
Monica had hosted me as if I was family, with homemade breakfast in the morning, lunch under the fig tree in the courtyard, Japanese afternoon tea with her delicious baked cakes. I couldn’t stop talking to her about her adventures as a model, her long marriage but now divorcée, and how she had managed everything with four children, while I was dreaming of escaping everything, just moving out here, in nothingness, to write and ponder.
However, I had to leave the island at one point, unfortunately, like a short but unforgettable love affair. As I stood there on the ferry deck and looked back at the island, it was with great sadness that I had to say goodbye. Hopefully soon, though, I would return to this enchanting place of wonder. Next time, perhaps decide whether to leave once again or one day finally stay for a season and become a true island outlander.
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