The Närhetsliv followers were right. Last spring, Instagram was filled with comments like “a house well worth showing off!” and “show us the castle now”. Curiosity was piqued. What was this home everyone wanted to see? The answer is a 240-square-meter life’s work in Unbyn, overlooking the Lule River.
Designed and built from the ground up by a 22-year-old carpenter with millimeter precision, intuition, and an infectious love for the craft. Right from the entrance hall, the house breathes carpentry joy, craftsmanship, and an eye for detail. The curved hallway wall gently draws us in, a hidden light strip follows the ceiling line, and the herringbone parquet lies perfectly aligned with the direction of light under our feet. The staircase floats upward with solid oak steps, each with its own unique grain pattern. Further inside, the living room opens up like a wooden cathedral, with generous ceiling height and a fireplace framed by natural stone. Through the windows, a view of the sparkling river and lush grove is offered.
Behind it all is Albin Harila. Raised in Överstbyn outside Boden, where the carpenter’s workshop was always close at hand. When his middle school classmates pondered their high school choices, he had known for many years that he would attend the construction and facilities program at Björknäs High School, and today he runs A. Harila Carpentry and Design.
“I’ve always had a carpentry workshop nearby. I usually say I was born with a hammer in my hand, and started carpentry when I was this tall,” he says, lowering his hand to knee height.
LIVING IN THE CONSTRUCTION
The plot in Unbyn was chosen more out of determination than convenience. From when Albin turned 18 and could sign the deed for his own plot, this particular spot had been under scrutiny. However, there was neither municipal water nor sewage. But the goal was clear: build his own house before turning 20, so eventually the municipal utilities had to be sacrificed. Once the paper was signed, things moved quickly. In just one year, he went from breaking ground to moving in, while working full-time as a carpenter at Unbyggarna, a local construction company.
The workday began at six o’clock, and with just a kilometer and a half between the construction site and work, he could take lunch at home on the building site. After work, he continued until one or two in the morning.
“Sure, it was tough, but I think it’s fun. The summer up here is dangerous, when the sun barely sets, the day blurs and I can be in the construction for as long as I want.”
And living in the construction site, he did that with joy. When the house was insulated, a construction heater was enough to keep the temperature around sixteen degrees. In the small hours, almost bordering on morning, he hammers in the last nail for the evening, puts the hammer aside, and falls back onto a camp bed to the humming of the construction heater. On his Instagram profile, he summarizes it dryly and truthfully: “Building houses when I’m not doing carpentry and doing carpentry when I’m not building houses.”
A HOME FULL OF CARPENTRY JOY
What he wanted to achieve is heard in the phrase that returns like a motto and is evident in all the details of the house.
“I wanted it to be visible that a carpenter lives here.”
Door frames that meet seamlessly in the corners. Moldings and transitions that click together with almost surprising precision. Roof trusses on the upper floor with ornate details as a nod to classic carpentry joy.
The staircase is the house’s sculpture. Albin went to a sawmill in Sundsvall to select the logs for each step. There are preserved knots and controlled cracks, as if nature’s handwriting was allowed to remain. Small recessed spotlights highlight the steps and the black steel construction provides stability and contrast, while the wooden handrail softens the grip.
The kitchen combines muted green cabinets with white stone countertops and light falls in from two directions. On the counter stands a knife block that appears to be hollowed out from a single log.
“I couldn’t find a single knife block I wanted in stores, so I built one myself,” says Albin, as casually as if he were oiling a hinge.
Upstairs in the living room lies a darker floor and the sofa gathers evenings and guests. Above the table hangs a crown-like lamp and on the tabletop, the herringbone pattern returns – here built from recycled pallets and racks. It’s both elegant and down-to-earth, like the rest of the house.
SMART SOLUTIONS AND HUMOR IN THE DETAILS
The lighting is thought through to the smallest corner: spots in the ceiling, LED strips that follow the curves of the walls, and discrete points in the stair steps. When the photographer searches for the right switch in the hall to adjust the photo lighting, Albin sarcastically calls out “good luck” from the kitchen, and brings out the app that controls all the house’s lighting.
The details give a feeling of both hotel and homeliness. In the bedroom, the wall behind the bed is clad in dark wood with a recessed shelf that’s a kind of byproduct from the barn in the heritage area. In the guest bathroom, the walls shift in deep green like a northern lights haze – and above sparkles a crystal chandelier.
At the large round table in the living room, a completely silent disc spins in the middle, perfect when many guests need to reach sauces and sides. The secret? A wheel bearing from a BMW. Another home-built solution that Albin seems particularly pleased with. He explains that most tables with a rotating center disc have a creaking sound, which he solved with some spare parts from the yard.
ARCHITECTURE IN THE HANDS
We ask where the line is drawn between carpenter and architect.
“I’m probably very much both,” he says. “Drawing, calculating, and planning are part of the job, but I need to build with my hands, otherwise I’ll go crazy.”
The dual role is evident in the construction. A load-bearing wall has been planned and built through the house to support heavy loads. Not least from the almost one-ton classic billiard table in solid stone that will eventually be brought into the house. How, he’s not quite sure yet.
“Yeah, who knows. I might have to remove a window upstairs and use a crane,” he says with a chuckle.
THE PLACE AND THE PROMISE AHEAD
Outside, the house is clad in dark stained wood with black mullioned windows. It stands naturally among the pines and by the glitter from the river, modern but with clear kinship to North Bothnian farms. Even though the plot choice wasn’t obvious from the start, he’s still satisfied with the location, having close access to fishing and nature, and even being able to take the boat up to Boden – most recently when he had a carpentry job there this summer.
Although the house is now complete, Albin is already moving forward. First a garage. Then a steam sauna with a round roof so the steam can move freely.
“Not because I like saunas. No way. But the journey is the destination. I like being in the construction. It just needs to be built.”
Perhaps that’s where the key lies: that home isn’t just an address where life happens, but a process. An ongoing dialogue between drawing and hand, between idea and timber. The house in Unbyn may be the result, but the journey there was what mattered most.
TEXT: ROBIN SÖDERLUND
