There is water in Gothenburg that no longer moves.
Not in the physical sense – it still flows – but in the deeper, human one. Water that once carried voices, labor, the smell of fish and tar. Water that once carried the city’s pulse. Today, it mostly functions as a mental boundary. Something you pass. Something you don’t really see.
The harbor basins of the moat are exactly such places.
They lie there like unanswered questions in the middle of the city. Between stone façades, bridges, and historic districts flows a body of water that once represented protection, survival, and identity. Today, it is an empty space. A beautiful, but lifeless void.
And perhaps that is precisely why it is so interesting.
A moat without life – but not without potential
The moat was built to protect the city. It was a border, an obstacle, a defense. Later, it became a transport route, a workplace, a lifeline. Goods were unloaded here, fish were caught, people lived close to the water in ways that today feel almost unthinkable in central Gothenburg.
Today, that same water mostly serves as a mirror.
A reflection of stone, bridges, and constant movement – above the surface.
But beneath it, very little truly lives anymore.
Fish stocks are sparse. The bottoms are hard, technical, sterile. Concrete and sediment have replaced what were once living environments. The water remains – but the city has turned its back on it.
Which is strange, for a city that has always defined itself through water.
From "Feskekyrkan" toward "Haga" – a forgotten axis
Look at the stretch from Feskekyrkan toward Haga.
On paper, it is one of the city’s most attractive locations: history, water, proximity to everyday life, culture, restaurants, and green spaces. In reality, it feels like a backyard.
This could have been a place of piers. Of movement. Of gardens and encounters. Instead, it is often empty, a little cold, a little forgotten. A serial environment – functional but soulless.
You pass through, but you rarely stop.
It feels as if the place is waiting for something, but no one is really listening.
What if we changed perspective?
What if the moat were not seen as an obstacle – but as a room?
Not something to cross, but something to inhabit.
Not a historical relic, but a living urban space.
Piers with gardens. Floating plant beds. Small footbridges that don’t just take you across, but down to the water. Places where people can sit, grow things, drink coffee, talk, read, work.
Water that is used – not just observed.
This is not about grand prestige projects. Not about iconic glass buildings. Quite the opposite. It is about human-scale interventions. About wood, plants, soil, water.
About allowing life to return – step by step.
Living on the water – without building the city away
The idea of housing by the water is always sensitive. Gothenburg has seen enough projects where exclusive residences effectively shut out public life.
But here, another approach is possible.
Small floating homes. Temporary structures. Perhaps student housing, studios, guest dwellings. Not permanent monuments – but flexible, reversible solutions.
Concrete bottoms can be broken up. Soft bottoms can be restored. Water can once again become an ecological environment, not just a technical one.
And most importantly: accessibility must be non-negotiable. The moat should not be privatized – it should be shared.
The city as a garden – in the middle of the hardscape
Gothenburg is built of stone. That is part of its identity. But precisely for that reason, some places cry out for something softer.
Piers with gardens are not a romantic fantasy. They exist in cities around the world. Floating plant systems that purify water, create shade, and attract life – human and biological alike.
Imagine small green islands along the moat. Herbs, berries, perennials. Places where school classes can learn about water, ecology, and history – at the same time.
Suddenly, the moat becomes not just something you look at, but something you understand.
A new living room for Gothenburg
What is missing today is not visions. Gothenburg is full of plans, strategies, and policy documents. What is missing is the courage to put the human first.
The moat could become a living room. A long, open space where people meet without consuming. Where you can sit without having to buy a coffee. Where the city feels lived in, not merely managed.
Today, much of the city’s water spaces are either touristified or fenced off. Here lies the opportunity to do something different. Something slower. Something more everyday – and therefore more sustainable.
History as a resource, not a backdrop
Gothenburg loves its history. But too often, it is used as decoration rather than as a foundation for new ideas.
The moat is a story in itself. Of defense, trade, labor, hardship. Of people who lived close to the water, with all its risks and possibilities.
To give the place life again is not to diminish history – it is to continue it.
Cities that dare to use their historical structures in new ways are the ones that stay alive. The others become museums.
A choice – not a problem
It is easy to say that it is complicated. Water quality, safety, responsibility, maintenance. All of that is true.
But fundamentally, this is not a technical problem. It is a choice.
Does Gothenburg want a city center where water is merely something you pass by?
Or does it want to reconnect with its identity as a water city – for real?
The harbor basins of the moat are not dead. They are sleeping. And they are waiting.
For ideas that are not about maximum exploitation, but about maximum quality of life.
For a city that dares to see potential where others only see problems.
Finally: daring to start small
The beauty is that this does not require a finished master plan. It requires a first step.
One pier.
One garden.
One place where people are allowed to stop.
Cities are not built only from buildings and roads. They are built from relationships. From places where people feel they belong.
The moat can become such a place again.
Not by becoming something entirely new – but by being what it has always been:
Gothenburg’s artery.
It just needs to start beating again.
By Chris...