Treehouse holidays are going up in the world, but the new Treehotel in Sweden's Lapland, with its futuristic pods, aims to soar above the rest, says Rhiannon Batten

Towards the end of his 2008 documentary, The Tree Lover, which explored the link between trees and people in Sweden, Jonas Selberg Augustsén says: "Imagine being here on the veranda on a summer evening, or listening to the rain on the roof with the stove purring quietly." As he says this he's sitting in a treehouse he's spent the summer building, looking out over a wide tract of pine forest with a river flowing in the distance, reflecting a sinking sun. You don't have to imagine it any more. Since last month, when the Treehotel opened in Swedish Lapland, anyone can check into a treehouse and survey the landscape from Jonas' viewpoint.

Set just outside the small village of Harads, an hour's drive northwest of Luleå and very close to where The Tree Lover was filmed, the Treehotel is the creation of Britta and Kent Lindvall. Britta, a guesthouse owner, and Kent, a fishing guide, were inspired to action by the film when an area of forest behind Britta's guesthouse was sold for logging. Instead of waiting for the inevitable to happen in a country where forestry is such an important industry, they contacted the forest's owner and offered to buy the land from him. Calling in favours from various architect friends Kent had been on fishing trips with, they started building the Treehotel, determined to demonstrate that the natural environment around them had value beyond supplying timber. Along with daughter Sofia, who also moonlights as a stuntwoman, what they have created is a high design, back to nature retreat where guests can slow down, switch off and breathe more deeply.

Arriving at the guesthouse late on a light-soaked summer's evening, I was met by Britta. Ushering me in with motherly warmth she sat me down in the 1950s-style surroundings and served up a delicious homemade fish pie on vintage china, explaining that the guesthouse operates as a kind of base camp for the treehouse rooms. "Guests leave their luggage here and just take a small overnight bag to the treehouses," she said. "We want you to get the feeling that you're leaving one world behind and entering another."

The Mirrorcube seems to float in the forest. Photograph: Rhiannon Batten

It certainly felt that way when, after dinner, Sofia led me along a narrow gravel path through a glade of birch trees and then higher up, through sturdy pines, to the Mirrorcube. The most striking of the treehouses, it's a glass box perched high in the forest. Like an architectural magic trick, it almost disappears into the foliage, so sharply are the surrounding trees reflected in it. The only giveaway that things are not quite what they seem is a wood and rope bridge leading up to a near-invisible door.

Inside, the Mirrorcube's chic plywood interior smells of warm wood. The dimensions are neat (four metres wide, four metres long and four metres high) and it is light and airy inside. Like the hotel's other treehouses, the facilities here are fairly basic, not stretching much beyond an environmentally-friendly toilet (some treehouses have ones that freeze the waste and others have ones that burn it into ash) and a sink – meals and showers are taken at the guesthouse, 10 minutes' walk away.

Still, this is a treehouse for grown-ups. Underfloor heating will keep it cosy through winter, posh tea and coffee are provided, along with a designer kettle, and a huge bed is dressed in thick white cotton and stylish woollen rugs. There is a sense of playfulness here, too. A ladder is provided for those who are game for clambering up, through a tiny, Alice In Wonderland-style door to a roof terrace, and the reflective cladding means no one can see in, so the windows have been left curtainless, giving almost 360-degree views of the surrounding trees. There's even a window in the ceiling; look up and feathery branches trail off into the sky.

Waking the next morning it was a shock to roll over and find a bird peering back at me through the glass. Underneath the duvet it was tempting to burrow away for the day in my own little nest but I would have felt guilty snoozing the day away, and wanted to explore the rest of the grounds.

Stepping out into giddying fresh air (Harads is only 60km south of the Arctic circle), the forest was so still that the tiniest underfoot snap crackled like gunshot.

The Bird's Nest was inspired by a sea eagle's nest

I went to take a peek at the Cabin, a sleek, organically shaped space pod touched down in the trees about 50m from the Mirrorcube. Also sleeping two, this one has a huge viewing deck and a floor-to-ceiling window looking out, beyond the forest, on to the Lule river, the northern lights in winter and the midnight sun in summer. Just behind it is the four-person Bird's Nest, inspired by a giant sea eagle's nest spotted on one of Kent's fishing trips to Russia's Kamchatka peninsula. Looking just as you might imagine, its twiggy heights are accessed via an electronic stepladder that descends and retracts via a keypad strapped on to one of the neighbouring trees. Inside, the sense of snugness is exaggerated by small porthole windows.

Between the Bird's Nest and the Mirrorcube is a sauna and relaxation room and another treehouse, the four-person Blue Cone, which is scheduled for completion next month. Its name belies its Lego-like structure, which is covered with bright orange tiles. A fifth treehouse, the UFO, will open at the end of October and, after a gap to source the finance, Britta and Kent hope to eventually have 24 on the site. "Building a treehouse is every boy's dream," said Kent, showing me around. "Now other architects want to get involved as they see it as a great showcase for their skills".

At well over £300 per treehouse per night, this is likely to remain a dream for many would-be guests, too.

It is only three and a half hours' drive, or a train ride, from the Icehotel in Jukkasjärvi so it is probable that these two quirky destination hotels will be sold together as a winter package, with a night spent in each. Access to some of northern Sweden's most spectacular wild landscapes aside, without a run of other real must-sees nearby, it's easy to imagine that the Treehotel will become the preserve of birthday weekenders, holidaying architecture buffs or the first stop on a Nordic honeymoon.

Yet there's plenty to do here for those who have more time. Britta and Kent are enthusiastic about village walking tours where guests can stop for coffee, cake and conversation with a local family. "Guests want to meet real people," he shrugs.

More energetic activities are on offer too. After my tour of the treehouses I was collected by Cicci Nilsson, the owner of the local stables, for a short ride. Cajoling Rominy, a petulant Irish cob, into trotting along a lane, we passed storybook red summer houses and fields, up to a plateau where there are spectacular views along the Lule river – and of the 1,500 hectares of former forest that were destroyed in Sweden's biggest forest fire four years ago. "A lot of local people owned a piece of forest here so it had a big impact on the community," Cicci told me. "Until this happened people saw having a piece of forest as a kind of pension pot."

Looking out at the scorched landscape past the few lonely pines left standing, it was a reminder that logging isn't the only threat to Sweden's forest. (Treehotel guests will be reassured to know that Kent also works part-time as a fireman.)

The Treehotel's Cabin sleeps two

Over a lunch of reindeer meatballs back at the guesthouse, Britta and Kent explained how deeply rooted their commitment to the forest is. Though the hotel has been designed with fun in mind, it has a serious side too. "The forest for us is a relaxing place, a source of mental peace," said Kent, adding that the couple want to share this passion for the environment with guests. The Treehotel has duly been built as sustainably as possible – the Mirrorcube has even been fitted with an infrared film, visible to birds only, that stops them flying into it – and environmentally unsound activities such as snowmobile safaris are out.

After lunch, I went to explore the forest from another angle – the seat of a kayak. "The weather has turned this week. The leaves are changing, there's a chill in the air, autumn is here," said local guide Love Rynbäck as we pushed our kayaks into the Lule river.

Love is subcontracted through his company, CreActive Adventure, to run outdoors activities for hotel guests; winter, he told me, is busier than summer, with husky safaris, skiing, skijoring (a bit like waterskiing on snow but being pulled by a horse), ice fishing, Sami cultural trips and sleigh rides on offer.

But gliding out on calm water in the afternoon sun there was still just enough warmth in the air to pretend that summer wasn't over yet. Paddling languidly along the edge of a huge island, we watched the trees reflected on the still water and the water casting ripples of sunlight on the trees in return. "When you're in a kayak the wildlife doesn't really notice you. It's like you're just a huge bird," said Love.

And what better place for a human bird to hole up afterwards than a bedroom up in the trees?