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My Arbor achieved what years of Brexit has so far failed to do: convinced me that I’m British, not European. 

This five-star treetop spa and wellness hotel appears in a forest in the Dolomite mountains of South Tyrol. That’s an autonomous province in northernmost Italy, just a few miles from Austria. The mountains were actually part of Austria until after the First World War, and about 70% of the region still has German as a first language. 

From an altitude of nearly 1,000 metres, this treehouse overlooks the bucolic Eisack valley (think chalet-style architecture and dotted sheep), down to the oldest Tyrolean town: Bressanone (in Italian) or Brixen (in German). So the first thing you need to know is that the vibe is as much Alpine as it is Mediterranean: locals and staff switch seamlessly back and forth between German and Italian, with the austere flavour of the former and the insouciance of the latter. 

The second thing you need to know is that this is a naked spa hotel. But I don’t just mean naked in the sauna or treatment rooms. I mean standing-around-chatting-in-groups-outside naked, in-and-out-of-the-pool naked, proudly European naked. You won’t find this out from the website – perhaps it’s just a given on the continent? I discovered it looking out over the dense pine forest and down to the outdoor heated pool: that swimsuits were actively discouraged. The hotel guests are the toned, evenly tanned, fat-free variety of European: all ruddy outdoor living and unprocessed foods. Unprepared and overly English, I skulked in the corner, very much recalcitrant. 

(Image credit: Harriet Marsden)

The hotel

(Image credit: My Arbor)

My Arbor is an architectural marvel. Perched on 25-metre-high tree-trunk stilts, the hotel seems to appear among the fir trees. It’s modern and minimalist, all open-plan bare wood and floor-to-ceiling glass windows to make the most of the mountain views, but the design is surprisingly sympathetic with the forest. Imagine if you turned one of Tolkien’s ents into a new-build.

It’s hard to say enough good things about the views: you just can’t look away. Every part of the hotel, from the rooms on the top floor, to the lounge and restaurant in the centre, and the spa and treatment cabins on the ground below, is designed to make the most of the surroundings. In the morning you can watch the mist slowly clear to reveal patches of light on the mountainside. 

The focus on calm is evident. No children disturb the peaceful mountain air, while quiet efficiency underpins understated luxury. But that’s not to say it’s lacking in whimsy. The lights in the main, open-plan reception hall and lounge were tree trunks extending from the ceiling, while the dinner restaurant seating was intimate 1950s-style booths. 

My Arbor offers a daily wellness activity, with the seasonal schedule posted on a blackboard by reception: a sunrise hike on Tuesday, an e-bike tour on Wednesday, a forest bath on Friday… One catches my eye: a Geisler Cinema hike. But upon further questioning, I’m told that it isn’t an actual cinema. You hike up up the Geisler mountain until you reach a hut, then you just… look at the mountain. 

From December to March, the hotel works as a ski-in, ski-out resort, with a free cable car to the nearby Plose Mountain just a short walk away. From April through the summer, it’s more outdoor pursuits: mindfulness walks, outdoor meditation and literal tree-hugging exercises. 

But from September to December, the off-season, the cable car is closed, and outdoor activities are weather-dependent – ironically, the rain meant my forest bath was cancelled. You can also rent bikes (which nobody tells you) or go for a walk in the forest (you’d expect a trail or route to be clearly signposted, but you would be wrong). There is a bus down into Bressanone-Brixen, a 16th-century city filled with cobbled alleyways, independent shops and cafes. But it only operates from 6pm to 10pm, so it might make going down into the town for dinner tricky. Most people, understandably, choose to drive. The average length of stay is four nights and five days, to take full advantage of the activity roster – none are scheduled on the weekend.

(Image credit: My Arbor)

The rooms

(Image credit: My Arbor)

All of the 104 rooms face south down into the valley, offering floor-to-ceiling panoramic views of the treetops and the mountains. You can curl up on the daybed in your window seat, watching the fog roll over the valley.

There are three tiers to choose from: nest suite (standard); hangout suite (premium); and treetop suite (deluxe), with its own sauna and outdoor whirlpool overlooking the treetops. I wouldn’t go as far as to call the style Spartan, but it’s certainly Scandinavian sauna: reclaimed wood of larch and fir on the walls, grey or brown soft furnishings, and no art whatsoever.

In fact, thanks to the lack of air conditioning (an environmental decision), the rooms can at times feel somewhat sauna-like – which might explain the two separate single duvets on the double bed, as if to disincentivise cuddling. 

The TV in my nest suite pointed to nowhere – you’d have to sit on the floor to watch it, rather than the bed or bench – but the views from the bed, or the wind-protected balcony, were mesmerising enough to replace it. The rooms are dog-friendly, but crucially, not baby- or child-friendly. Which might explain the “sensory shower” (with suspicious hose) and “intimate cleanser” parked by the bidet.

(Image credit: My Arbor)

(Image credit: Harriet Marsden)

Food and drink

(Image credit: Harriet Marsden)

“My body is my temple, my soul my home,” the website promises of the food, in its somewhat obtuse style. 

The South Tyrol cuisine reflects the multicultural area: heavy on the red meat and alpine cheese, but also boasting a smorgasbord of fresh fruit and colourful vegetables. The produce, olive oil, wine and potatoes are all grown locally and processed in the hotel, and eggs come from a nearby farm every day. It’s all super-high quality, unadulterated, and perhaps somewhat underflavoured. 

A particular highlight was sitting on the terrace with a My Arbor gin and tonic, locally made with flavours of the forest pines. It’s 50% alcohol, so go easy. The Eisack valley is also famous for its white wines – the kerner and silvaner grapes are dry, fruity and aromatic, thanks to the high acidity that comes from a high daytime and low nighttime temperature.

Lunch offerings included a buckwheat bowl with avocado and raspberry vinaigrette, quince and walnut with grilled chicken, or homemade pasta with local wagyu beef ragout, mushrooms and black truffle. Traditional Tyrolean pressed cheese dumplings in beef broth also featured heavily. 

Rooms are usually booked on a half-board basis, so everyone congregates in the restaurant for an a la carte menu dinner, with two or three options for each course. The homemade tagliolini with cacio e pepe with white truffle (at a surcharge of 15 euros per gram) was the standout, but the daily selection of cold cuts and cheeses, or the brittle bread burger with local wagyu beef and genussbunker cheese, also went down a treat. 

Every day boasted a different theme, such as Friday’s “essence of water” (red lentil cream soup with salmon praline, followed by swordfish with saffron and fennel tortelli), then mousse or cheesecake. Saturday, however, was known as “cheat day”. The fat-shaming vibe was echoed by the breakfast menu, which read: “I make my way to the buffet. Homemade jams, cakes and pastries. As far as I can see. Only one bite is enough.” 

With that in mind, the chocolate fountain seemed a bit incongruous.

(Image credit: Harriet Marsden)

The spa

(Image credit: My Arbor)

The in-house Spa Arboris is a 2,500-square-metre behemoth, with indoor and outdoor infinity pool, five separate saunas, a cold water plunge and a relaxation room. The vibe is simple, even austere, with tiny towels and practically invisible staff (I did grow highly attached to my fluffy hooded robe). There is a notable absence of plinky plunky spa music here. Silence reigns, so the atmosphere is almost monastic. 

Silent, but communal. Each day the spa offers at least four “rituals”, with a dedicated “sauna master”, who performs a ceremony involving essential oils and meditation. Nothing in my Italian or German studies prepared me for the experience of an obscenely muscular man wafting a steam towel in my face, while I sat in a (fully lit) sauna, cheek-to-jowl with 40 naked Europeans. It may have been one of the more stressful experiences of my life, nearly cracking a rib trying not to laugh. 

Most guests do at least three of these per day, so you’ll find yourself growing overly familiar. Afterwards, guests congregate together outside in the fresh air for a tea or juice, wearing nothing but a ruddy glow. 

My massage treatment was something of a revelation. A beautiful blonde lady with a vaguely punitive air pounded my buttocks like a deranged pianist. She focused mainly on those famously relaxing areas like the shin bone and lower belly, and paid more attention to cellulite than I felt was strictly necessary. She didn’t massage me so much as have a bare-knuckle fight with my body. 

After my plus-one’s turn, I greeted him like a solider returning from the war, but he floated in on a cloud full of praise and deep relaxation, so each to their own.

(Image credit: My Arbor)

The verdict

This hotel is a one-off wonder, offering the ultimate holistic wellness getaway in a “Sound of Music” setting. 

But it’s more for the healthy than the hippy – expect to detox in the nude, not wallow in the mud. And like any good detox, the hotel doesn’t make things easy. The information is rarely obvious, and the staff are (purposefully) unobtrusive. 

The surrounding mountain range offers the perfect metaphor: it’s beautiful, even breathtaking – but to outsiders, it could be unforgiving.

(Image credit: Harriet Marsden)

Getting here

What makes the Dolomites unspoilt and multicultural is also what makes them hard to reach. The closest international airports are Verona or Venice in Italy, or Innsbruck in Austria – we’d recommend spending a night in either city before continuing your journey via train to the town of Bressanone-Brixen. That way, you can enter the mountains in daylight to fully appreciate the scenery (and avoid the risk of missing the last train if your flight is delayed). From there, it’s about a 15-minute drive. 

Harriet Marsden was a guest at My Arbor. A standard room starts at €245 per person (£210) per day, based on two people sharing, including half-board dining and access to spa and wellness activities. A spring-themed wellness package, “My Blossoming”, is available from 21 April until 7 July 2024, with two nights starting at €490.