A shore thing: How the badhytt became the hottest real estate this side of the sea

Along the coast of Skåne in Sweden’s southwest, the Falsterbo Peninsula darts out into the sea like a mythic fishtail. The cape comprises two medieval towns, Skanör and Falsterbo, that join together to create part of what has come to be known as The Swedish Riviera. Not dissimilar to the Hamptons of New York State, the coastline here is generously scenic, an expanse of fine white sand, high-piled dunes and long reeds bending in the direction of the wind. One element in particular makes this part of Sweden so iconic: the colourful 'badhytten' – hundreds of small beach huts that create a rainbow along the shore.

Seldom taking up more than a few square metres of space, these charming abodes give the shoreline its character, inseparable from the joyous coastal atmosphere to which they contribute. With barely one thousand huts available, and no new building permits allowed, they are highly covetable constructions that have fascinated and charmed both locals and visitors for over a century. These cabins weren’t always so desired; when first constructed, they were used as changing rooms for swimming activities.

Related: This former lighthouse keeper's residence is one of Sweden's best secret getaways

Nowadays, it's a rarity to find one of these huts up for sale. On the occasion that one does hit the market, the accompanying price tag breaks down to a cost per square metre that would make even the most seasoned realtor blush. The majority of huts have been passed down in families for generations, often being inseparable from a 'main house,' to which the hut is legally, if not physically, attached. “One hundred years ago, all properties had their own badhytt. When selling a property, a badhytt is an enormous plus for the home,” explains local real estate agent Eva Strandh, noting that the inclusion of one of these beach huts can add “around 10,000 euros” to the total price of the property.

With supply trailing behind demand, whenever a hut does become available, online bidding wars quickly escalate to outrageous figures. Over the past two years, demand has grown even greater, as Swedes continue to holiday closer to home due to the global pandemic. The average price of a hut varies greatly depending on several factors, not least of which is location. As Strandh points out, “Where the badhytt is located matters a lot. If you have one in good condition, up on the sandy hill with a beautiful view over the ocean, it, of course, will be worth a lot more than those closer to the woods.”

One person who has enjoyed a primely-located badhytt is Lovisa Harborn, who spent her childhood running between the sea and the comfort of her grandparents’ hut in Höllviken. Now in her twenties, Harborn has long flaxen hair, held back by a crimson headband. She wears a light pink dress – a vibrant colour combination that would look right at home against a badhytt’s wooden pastel hued panels.

Harborn’s grandparents were invited into shared ownership of the hut by a neighbour, whom they eventually bought out. After Harborn’s grandfather passed away in 2005, her grandmother sold the hut in 2010 for what is estimated to be a third of what it would be worth today. Harborn's mother, Ulrika, recalls the hut as “the perfect little house containing all of the beachtime necessities in five square metres.” She recalls how convenient it was to not have to carry all the “toys, sunbeds, sunscreen, beach games and swimming goggles down to the beach.” Her daughter explains the same from a child’s perspective: “We shared the badhytt with my grandparents. They had one side with their things, and we had the other side, with all of our favourite toys, bathing suits and things we needed. My grandparents’ side was very clean – a couple of bathrobes, two chairs and two towels.”

Related: From Arctic baths to glacier hikes: Here's how to make the most of winter in Scandinavia

Another woman who’s enjoyed the pleasures of a badhytt is Evelynn Licazzo Ekblad, an immaculately presented makeup artist from Skåne whose wavy curls are right at home at the beach. Ekblad came to be the owner of a beach hut on Kempingestranden, Höllviken, on her birthday, when her elderly neighbour asked if she would be interested in purchasing his. She and her husband made him a far more conservative offer than they thought the man would accept, but he took it. His rationale was that the young family would make better use of the hut than he would. In thanks, Ekblad made it her mission to take extra special care of the tiny structure.

Though it covers just four square metres, Ekblad boasts that the hut can fit six people. “We never meet at the main house anymore, we invite people around to the hut for barbecues, we give keys to friends and tell them to leave their deck chairs or whatever they want in there.” She talks of the sense of community that the cabins provide, of long summer evenings when everyone gathers on the beach, glass of wine in hand, to enjoy a small slice of heaven.

While Ekblad’s hut functions as a social hub, according to Helena Bonnier – whose beach cabin has been in the family for almost 70 years - the huts are far more practical. An elegant woman who moved into the house with its accompanying hut in 1960, Bonnier recalls the days when the children were small and the huts were simply for changing in and out of swimming costumes as it was forbidden to do so elsewhere in public. Speaking with the expertise of a seasoned oceanside hut owner – her own hut is white with blue trim – Bonnier explains the upkeep required for a structure that is constantly subjected to wind, sand and salt.

“When it is windy here, there is always some sand in the air. It grinds, it scratches, so you have to repaint every five to six years,” she says. Things can also become difficult for the huts when the sands upon which they sit drift and move. As Bonnier summarises, “one must constantly supervise.” Falsterbo municipality is meticulous about the standards it sets for local huts. Owners receive letters if they don’t take adequate care of their properties. But, as Bonnier notes, the local association also takes care of the beach, removing seaweed and seagrass, and actively upholds its own high standards for the benefit of all. Asked if she would ever sell the hut, Bonnier ’s answer is adamant: “No, no, no, I would never sell. No way. It belongs to the house.”

It is this love for a few square metres that helps the beach huts of Skåne keep their place as great cultural landmarks of the smallest size. And while the restrictions on building new huts may appear exclusive or elitist, they are in fact a protective act, steeped in historical reverence and appreciation for the land. In their own small way, these huts and their singular status represent a stand in safeguarding local sustainability. Protecting them is a way of ensuring that generations to come do not destroy a landscape that has been respectfully maintained for over a century, ever since these small-scaled buildings began to grace the beaches, each in their own unique and colourful way.