To the left of the seating nook is a small, light wooden dining table. It was here that we found our welcome gifts: a bottle of wine, savory crackers, and a mini tray of thoughtfully chosen business cards—local restaurants, bakeries, art galleries, all handpicked by Jantine. A cheese knife, small cutting board, and utensils sat ready on the table, along with a curated Amsterdam guidebook from atelier Sukha, filled with neighborhood finds. Subtle hints of tasteful design complete the studio: A simple, chic light bulb fixture suspends from a secure cord above the table. Scandi-style prints hang throughout.
The layout flows from front to back in one continuous space, with no doors or dividers into the “bedroom” and “kitchen.” A small, open-faced kitchenette faces the bed—and while not ideal for cooking full meals, it worked perfectly for morning teas and afternoon snacks. Two long wooden shelves above the counter hold grey ceramic plates from Nepal, white bowls, glasses, and essentials like tea, coffee, salt, and oats. Both an electric kettle and teapot sit on the counter, next to a pour-over glass coffee carafe with a wooden collar. In the cabinet at the bottom right of the sink, there’s a mini-fridge, which we used for restaurant leftovers and our slowly-sipped, gifted wine. Beside the kitchenette—a compact hanging closet area with hangers, sized to hang a small array of wrinkle-prone items, as well as our checked suitcase and a carry-on underneath. A small candle completes the nightstand, and a locker-esque styled cabinet sits adjacent to the dining table for extra clothing storage.
The cozy double bed is topped with linen duvets and a wood-toned throw blanket. It nearly hugs the tall, floor-to-ceiling glass terrace doors, dressed with long, sheer white curtains that filter sunlight throughout the day. With just the right amount of privacy and soft light, the curtains never made the space feel dim or enclosed. (Not to mention, full blackout shades would’ve been dangerous in our sleepy, jet-lagged state.) Also bedside, a vintage-style chest held the hammock, which was stored neatly and easy to pull out whenever we wanted. The terrace—our little, lush, green nook—was overgrown in a quaint and romantic way, with plants framing the patio and softening the already-light sounds of the city. Like clockwork, this space became my afternoon spot for rest and relaxation. After our long walks, exploring, I’d hang up the hammock, lie back, read or relax, and sway with light falling on my face. From that position, I could look through the terrace doors and see my partner curled up in bed, wrapped in linen, slipping into a coziest nap. And separately, ideal for morning coffees to evening wines, a small, outdoor round table sat ready with two chairs.