I discovered my love of maximalism early on in life. It was school fancy dress day, and while other children arrived that morning dressed as cowboys, football players, superheroes, I rocked up with a fruit basket balanced tentatively on my 10-year-old head, draped in ruffles and my mother’s entire jewellery collection. I was, of course, Carmen Miranda.
Two decades later, despite a blinkingly brief flirtation with minimalism via a so-called ‘life-changing magic’ (forgive me, sweet Marie), my penchant for all things fun, and frankly a little bit extra, is still alive and very much kicking – in platform heels no less.
You can imagine my delight then, when I discovered Casa Beatnik; a hot pink country house in Galicia’s Rías Baixas, a region of rolling hills, crisp Albariño wines and a coastline as dramatic as my childhood imagination. Named after the bohemian freethinkers of the 1950s, the made-over 18th-century manor is fittingly non-conformist, maxed-out with patterns, textures and an inventory of one-off furnishings from some of the world’s most exciting craftsmen and designers.
It’s 6pm by the time I arrive, and after running Madrid’s half-marathon that morning, I’m ready to check-in and call it a night. That is, until I get a glimpse of the main salon, where a riot of beautiful things ignite my inner magpie; hefty Cabana magazines strategically placed on coffee tables, a library of Taschen books on everyone from Helmut Newton to Bacon to Basquiat, colour-clashing berber boxes, baroque light fixtures, leafy plants and a scatter of sculptural pots.
It’s a lot, sure, but somehow never too much, masterfully blending the joie de vivre and cultivated confidence of France and the refined craftsmanship of Italy with a sprinkling of colourful, Moroccan chaos thrown in for good measure.
Even the corridors are jazzy, fitted-out with kaleidoscopic drapes and mis-matched rugs. It’s clear that, for the Galician-American brothers behind the hotel (and of the super-stylish Bonhomme group), it’s not their first time on the more-is-more rodeo.
‘It’s all about creating the right atmosphere,’ explains Juan Carlos, the hotel’s co-owner and managing director, who can be found periodically conducting ‘vibe checks’ throughout the casa, ensuring that the lighting, temperature and volume fits the mood.
And from where I’m sitting – namely, a Gio Ponti armchair next to the wood-burning fire with a pink, peppercorn spritz in hand – the mood is nothing less than optimal. The subtle buzz of conversation is soundtracked by slow seductive beats and I’m drenched in warm, soft lighting that has even the most pasty among us looking like a St Tropez model.
Each of the thirteen suites are individually designed and directed by the Italian studio Luca Lanzetta, many with original stone walls and specially-commissioned paintings by Spanish artist Jordi Mollà; all with tufty, textured Soufiane Zareb rugs. My base for the weekend is the dreamy Large Suite which looks over the vineyards beyond (more on that later).
The surely more-than-king-size bed is heaped with pillows and flanked by decorative Sogni Di Cristallo wall lamps, hand-blown in Murano. There’s a free-standing, coral-hued Antonio Lupi tub big enough for two, half-‘n’-half hardwood and tiled flooring, a generous mid-century minibar and an antique, mirrored wardrobe that looks like it’s been plucked straight from a Venetian palazzo, but it’s the bathroom that steals this beige-snubbing show, clad with custom, electric blue tiles by Popham Design, each made by hand in the Atlas Mountains.
The maximalist hit-parade continues at Tribu, the intimate six-seater seasonal restaurant which serves zero-kilometre cuisine in an indoor/outdoor setting sheltered by custom esparto curtains and barrel chandeliers from Jaén, with mosaic floors and Patricia Urquiola tables draped in floral, Suzani fabrics.
So too at Beatnik Country House, where artful menus made with recycled Berber-style fabrics function more as portals than dinner cards, with some dishes like tacos de pulpo and salmon boliños that transport us across the Atlantic to South and Central America, or nostalgic ice-cream sandwiches drizzled in olive oil, which, for Juan Carlos, evokes beachside afternoons spent with his grandparents on the Galician coast. It doesn’t take me long to learn that, in this stylish slice of terra meiga, there’s a tale behind everything.
Elsewhere on the estate, you’ll find six luxury yurts for Beatniks on a budget, a yoga pavilion, fire pit and two curvy Iglusaunas (handcrafted in Estonia using centuries-old shingling techniques, don’t you know); one containing a treatment room for full-body and specialised massages, the other with a wood-burning sauna.
The hotel’s panache for aesthetic abundance peaks, however, at the cherry-red pool, a superfluous showpiece lined with bright, zellige tiles and surrounded by Soho House-style candy-striped loungers (no 7am towel throwing required).
But design isn’t the only way Beatnik engages with the maximalist ethos, and in the spirit of doing the most, they’ve spent the last few years recovering the vines of the estate in support of Galicia’s burgeoning wine culture. That includes their rare, 400-year-old Cascon vine (one of the world’s oldest, in fact) whose centuries-strong labour is served by pipette in Tribu.
Turns out this kind of extra-mile endeavour is typical of Galician wine makers, who, I learn from in-house sommelier Alvaro, are equally hardcore in both motto and method. With each glass he pores, there’s a story – abseiling grape-harvesters, sticking it to ‘the man’, people so dedicated to their land and ancestry they eschew the ease of technology in favour of the down-and-dirty, the laborious, passed-down techniques that are so old-school, they’re progressive.
To be a Beatnik, after all, is about loosening the grip of the era’s status quo and finding freedom in alternate rhythms. It’s about rebellion, re-invention, romance. And here’s the thing that these particular beatniks get right about maximalism; it’s all finely-tuned and intentional.
It’s the studied juxtaposition of Alessandro Michele’s embellished Gucci ‘fits; it’s the gazpacho-red accents of an Almodovar film set, it’s throwing a leaving party knowing you’ll be back in a month.
Willaim Morris once said, ‘have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful… the true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all details of daily life’. And it’s hard to be sad when surrounded by so much beauty.
Or with a fruit basket on your head, for that matter.
Find out more about Casa Beatnik or explore our collection of Galicia hotels