Proponents of our supposed driverless car-sharing future say the system could lead to a dramatic drop in the number of vehicles in our cities, so does that mean we’ll be able to fill our sudden abundance of parking spaces with micro houses like this one? The Tikku by Marco Casagrande is a three-story structure with a footprint that fits perfectly within a single parking spot and can be erected overnight. Wherever a car can go, “the Tikku can grow,” says the architect.

“Tikku is a safe-house for neo-archaic biourbanism, a contemporary cave for a modern urban nomad,” Casagrande explains of his creation, which was installed outside of Atheneum in the heart of Helsinki for the city’s Design Week 2017. “It will offer privacy, safety and comfort. All the rest of the functions can be found in the surrounding city. Tikku is a needle of urban acupuncture, concquering the no-man’s land from the cars and tuning the city towards the organic. Many Tikkus can grow side-by-side like mushrooms and they can fuse into larger organisms.”

The self-sufficient house produces its own energy with solar panels and has dry toilets, but you’ll have to tote in your own water; the architect emphasizes that there’s no need for many amenities like showers, saunas, laundry machines or complex kitchens because such things exist all around you in the city.

The Tikku is made of CLT (cross-laminated timber), an engineered wood material that’s five times lighter than reinforced concrete, and it doesn’t require a foundation; a sand box in the bottom gives it balance on slightly uneven urban surfaces. It’s simple but cute, with interiors that might offer just enough space for a single minimalist occupant who’s dedicated to integrating into the fabric of the city. Would you live there?

In Finland, where the tradition of sitting in steamy saunas is even more appealing in frigid winter, a group of enterprising DIYers has built their own multi-level floating spa, sun deck and dive platform out of recycled materials. The Saunalatta features a lower deck, a sauna cabin that transforms into sleeping bunks in the summer, and a second-story platform with a lookout, and it’s available for rent at the cost of about $410 per day.

In a nation that boasts roughly one sauna for every three residents – about two million in total – it’s not surprising that Finns come up with some creative variations. Up to fifteen people can cram into the sauna at a time, where the temperature can get as high as 194 degrees Fahrenheit. Then, they jump right into the icy waters of the lake before repeating the ritual.

In the summertime, the cabin offers sleeping space for five on simple platforms, with hammocks offering lounge space. On the roof terrace you’ll find a table and chairs, a BBQ and a 19-foot diving tower. Made of recycled and reclaimed materials, the simple shack-style houseboat also has a fridge, heated shower and a sound system wired throughout the vessel.

The Saunalatta Facebook page has lots of wistful-daydream-worthy photos that’ll appeal to water-lovers in either hemisphere, since it’s cozy and warm in the winter and the perfect home base for swimming in the summer, including some fun images of the creators testing out the boat’s durability with a trampoline.

Northern Europe is known for its sauna culture, evolved to combat the cold and gather people in the dark of winter, but this seaworthy version adds a mobile twist to a longstanding tradition.

Built from recycled wood, floating on salvaged plastic barrels and powered by an outboard motor, the Saunalautta was created by friends who have since decide to rent out the structure.

More than just a nautical sauna, onboard amenities include a barbecue as well as tents and hammocks for overnight adventures and relaxation outside of the super-heated central space.

The crow’s nest at the top provides a lookout point and diving platform as well as shelter for the cooking space located directly below. They have even tested putting a trampoline on the second story, but safety concerns won out in the end.

More from Architizer on the long cultural history of saunas in the region: “The chilly Nordic country of Finland is known for its deeply-rooted sauna culture. Dating back to as early as the 16th century, saunas became a popular way to beat the dangerously frigid winter temperatures. In a country with around 5.5 million inhabitants, there are more than 2 million saunas scattered about the land — that’s an average of one sauna per household. In Finland, these heated refuges are not thought of as a luxury, but rather, a necessity to protect people against the cold. Before modern healthcare, most Finnish mothers even gave birth in saunas, as the warm rooms were thought to have hygienic, purifying qualities.”

A Russian ghost town on a Norwegian island in the Arctic, decaying modernist houses in Sweden and woodland homes taken over by wildlife in Finland are among the abandoned treasures of Scandinavia (or more specifically: Fennoscandia). Left behind but not forgotten, these structures stand as reminders of a past now lost, whether due to the changing public view of prison-like mental institutions, the end of the Cold War or the invention of new technology that made old ways obsolete.

Pyramiden, Norway’s Abandoned Russian Settlement

A Russian ghost town at the end of the world, Pyramiden is a coal mining community on the remote Arctic archipelago of Svalbard, Norway. It was founded in 1910 by the Swedish and sold to the Soviets in 1927, and was once home to 1,000 people. The town consists of just a handful of buildings and some mining equipment, and has been entirely abandoned since 1998, though in 2007 construction began on a hotel that enables guests traveling to the island to stay overnight. The last ton of coal extracted from the mine sits behind a spire-shaped monument bearing the settlement’s name.  The buildings remain as they were when left behind, and because of the low rate of decay in the freezing Arctic climate, they’re expected to remain visible 500 years from now.

Modernist Houses, Sweden

This glass-walled home was the epitome of Swedish modernity in the 1960s, designed by architect Bruno Mathsson and once full of the sleek midcentury modern furniture for which he remains most famous. Mathsson designed this home and two others like it as ideal showcases for the fitness-obsessed, nature-centered nudist lifestyle, but the homes were abandoned at some point and have been empty for decades. Photographer Mikael Olsson has spent the last decade visiting and documenting two of the houses, revealing their descent into disrepair.

Abandoned Houses Taken Over by Animals, Finland

This group of homes in the Finnish woods may have been abandoned by people, but they provide a safe haven for a wide array of wildlife. Photographer Kai Fagerström discovered the houses near his family’s summer home in Salo, left behind after their inhabitants passed away or relocated. Inside, he has documented raccoons, squirrels, skunks, foxes, owls and many other creatures making themselves comfortable.

Murmansk Ghost Ship, Norway

Rusting in the waters just off the coast of the Norwegian village of Sørvaer after running aground, a Russian cruiser waited nearly twenty years to be rescued. The Murmansk was commissioned in 1955 and remained in service until 1994, when it was sold to India for scrap, but it never made it to its intended destination, partially sinking into the sea. The process of retrieving it was complicated by the possible presence of radioactive substances aboard the ship, the rough seas and the extreme climate of the area. In 2009, funds were raised to build a dry dock to start the process of dismantling it. The wreckage actually looks much smaller than it really is – those waters are hiding the vast majority of the ship.

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Cold Comfort 7 Abandoned Wonders Of Scandinavia

Evoking images of flying saucers, interplanetary space pods and science fiction futurism, the Futuro house offered homeowners a chance to live in the future without ever leaving their front yards. Finnish architect Matti Suuronen designed the Futuro house in 1968 but only 96 of the fiberglass-reinforced polyester plastic pods were produced over a 5-year period – killed by the 1973 Oil Crisis that tripled the price of plastics. Today, roughly half of the ellipsoid structures have been accounted for and their iconic design has made them a favorite of pop culture collectors, retrofuturism fans and all those who appreciate the impact of 1960s Space Age style.

From Finland It Came

(images via: Artificial Owl, International Day and Discover Interior Design)

The Futuro house was the brainchild of Matti Suuronen, one of a number of Finnish architects and designers who garnered wide recognition for futuristic, post-modern structures and consumer goods. Along with Alvar Aalto, Eero Saarinen and Viljo Revell, visionary architects like Suuronen put Finland on the map when it came to futuristic, and, well, fantastic expressions of the post-modernist ethos.

(image via: Yu-Lin Chan)

Explaining his architectural philosophy in a 1957 speech, Alvar Aalto said, “We should work for simple, good, undecorated things, but things which are in harmony with the human being and organically suited to the little man in the street.” Toronto’s city hall, which was designed by Revell and opened in 1967, is shown above.

Design Ahead Of Its Time

(images via: ArcSpace and Zentropolis)

Airport terminals and city halls are one thing, homes for the “little man” are quite another. That’s where Matti Suuronen comes in, along with his iconic Futuro house. Measuring 10 feet (3 meters) high, 26 feet (8 meters) in diameter and perched upon a sturdy 4-legged steel base, the Futuro house could house a very small family in a pinch or several modules could serve different domestic functions. The basic design is a simple one, as can be noted by the consistency of Suuronen’s vision from the very first hand-drawn renderings.

(image via: Ektroverde)

The finished product proves the practicality of Suuronen’s design. The shape and form are timeless – with its “egg on an egg cup” format, the Futuro house looks as good today as it did in 1968.

Building For Tomorrow, Today

(images via: Populuxe and Skor-NL)

The Futuro house wasn’t built like other houses of the day; instead it was prefabricated in a factory. The first Futuro prototype, painted white, exited the Polykem plant in Hiekkaharju, Finland in late March of 1968. Production models (the first one being painted yellow) began coming off the line soon after.

Moving House

(images via: S de AC, Amy Antonio and Zentropolis)

Originally intended to be prefab ski cabins, Futuro houses were basically picked up at Polykem and set down on the desired plot of snowy land. Erm, it helped to have either a helicopter or a crane – or both – to do the picking up and dropping off.

Futuro-scapes

(images via: Futuro-House, Pour 15 Minutes d’Amour and San Diego Union)

The otherworldly appearance of the Futuro house makes it a popular subject for photographers. Finding a suitable scenic vista is often made easier by Futuro owners for whom the UFO look is to be accentuated to the max.

Windows Of The Soul

(images via: Zentropolis and Mechafushigi)

Some Futuro houses came with an extra set of 2 or 4 windows, which are undoubtedly attractive and probably help to reduce any feelings of claustrophobia. Arachnophobia, not so much.

Look Out For The Futuro

(images via: Amy Antonio, Eichler Network and Zentropolis)

It may have looked odd on the outside but from inside it looked even… odder. Futuro promotional brochures from the late 1960’s attempts to portray regular (ok, very groovy) people in average situations – in a very un-average home.

(images via: Hooked On Houses, P.S.1 and Christchurch Modern)

Photographic representations from a more recent date show off the Futuro’s spacey and surprisingly spacious interior.

Ramping It Up

(images via: Eichler Network, Artificial Owl and Sellsius Realestate)

An important – critical, actually – facet of the Futuro’s design was the airliner-style extendable ramp that unfolded out from the home’s outer hull. Once homeowners climb aboard and reel in the ramp, the Futuro exposes a practically seamless exterior that not only looks great, but also enhances security.

The Futuro Of New Jersey

(images via: Lost In Jersey and Stu Of Doom)

Sometimes even the coolest designs fall prey to their surroundings, and that’s the case with this Futuro house located in Franklin Park, NJ. Judging from the verdant undergrowth the home has been in place for some time, though it’s unknown when the owner decided to heck with the entry/exit ramp and built the incongruously traditional front foyer. I’m not here to judge, though… what happens in Jersey, stays in Jersey.

Pensacola Beach’s Spaceship House

(images via: C-Monster and Roadside America)

The so-called Spaceship House is currently the Pensacola Beach Preservation and Historical Society’s headquarters. Having survived Hurricane Ivan and Hurricane Dennis with nary a scratch, the southern Florida Futuro house sits atop a more traditional blockhouse structure with a permanent ramp to ground level.

Back To The Futuro

(images via: Futuro-House, Virgin Media and The Shopping Sherpa)

Here are some other views of classic Futuro houses uncluttered by later add-ons and appurtenances. With 300 square feet of living space inside they indeed may be small, but wouldn’t it be cool to keep one in the backyard, maybe as a home theater?

This video provides a deeper look at the Futuro house along with a text narration of the Futuro’s story from beginning to end. It’s accompanied by complementary cool mood music, “La Femme d’Argent” (The Silver Lady) by Air.

(image via: Peggie Scott)

In 1998, Finnish film director Mika Taanila made a documentary film titled “Futuro – A New Stance For Tomorrow”. If the video piqued your interest than this film is a must-see.

(image via: Westgate Street)

The Futuro house epitomizes Space Age style, a period of optimistic, futuristic aesthetics that roughly coincided with the first great burst of space exploration. From the launch of the Soviet Union’s Sputnik satellite in late 1957 to the end of the U.S.’s Apollo moon missions in 1972, earthbound designers let their creative spirits soar into orbit – and we gladly went along for the ride. Though ultimately short on practicality, the Futuro house satisfied our longing for better lives in a brighter future!