Blue city
In the unusually warm summer of 2018, I found myself walking on the steaming hot streets of Oslo. I really needed to cool off, and realized I was not far from the Rådhuskaia waterfront. I moved towards the pier planning to splash my feet in the water for a while. Best idea ever. As I reached the border, I could see that the waterline was about a meter below me. There was no way I could touch it. I searched for a staircase, a ladder or something that would bring me closer to the surface, but there was nothing to be found. I was almost desperate. SO close, but still so far away...! I literally had a meltdown.
This made me reflect on my childhood.
A watery way of life
My mother grew up in Hardanger on the west coast, a small village by the Hardanger fjord. Surrounded by mountains, glaciers and waterfalls, a typical Sunday was spent hiking in the mountains or having a picnic at the beach. In the winters they would go down-hill or cross-country skiing in the mountains.
My father grew up on the opposite side of Norway, on the south-east coast in a waterfront industrial city called Fredrikstad, with the large Glomma river cutting right through the city center. Positioned in the sea just outside of Fredrikstad sit the Hvaler islands, a beautifully preserved national park. My father often took his bike out to Djupeklo, for fishing, swimming and sailing his sailboat. In wintertime, he would go ice skating on the frozen river or skiing in the forest with his friends.
Water and snow runs in my parents nervous systems and is anchored in their genes. When they got married, had kids, and were looking for their forever home, they chose Son, a small idyllic village with white painted wooden houses and red stone roofs on the east side of the Oslo fjord, about an hour commuting distance from Oslo, where my father worked. Our house was a short walk from the beach and we had a little boat in the village harbor that we took out on weekends and sunny afternoons. We went out to the islands to sunbath, swim in the ocean and play in the shallow waters. On the boat ride home, as the sun went down, we’d make a short stop to fish for a couple of mackerels which we’d prepare as an evening snack when we got home. I would fall asleep as my sea salted head touched the pillow. A memory of pure and joyful childhood happiness.
On vacations we’d usually go on trips around Norway. We’d load up our moss green Renault 5 and head out to a small cabin that we rented on the southern coast in Homborsund. In wintertime, we’d rent another cabin in the mountains to go skiing or sledding in the snow. Nature was accessible all year round—as it has been for most Norwegians – an integrated part of my everyday life.
Moving to the city
In the mid 90’s I moved to Oslo to study. I remember Oslo as a grey and polluted city. Concrete, asphalt, cars and noise fills my memory. I had no feeling of Oslo’s waterfront, and I could rarely see the fjord. There was no ocean smell like the one I grew up with. No sounds of boats passing by – except for an occasional honk from a cruise ship in the distance. I knew the water was behind there somewhere, behind the containers, the industrial buildings, the ships docking by the pier. But the water’s edge was pretty shady, and it didn’t feel safe to go there. Dark and desolate, it had perfect conditions for prostitutes and drug dealers to thrive.
Aker brygge and Rådhuskaia were two of the very few places one could go to actually see a little bit of water and get a view toward Nesodden and the islands. However, if I wanted to go swimming on a hot summer day, I had to get on the bus to Bygdøy, a peninsula just outside the city center. It’s usually only a 20 minute ride, but on days like that, I was not the only one longing for an ocean dip, so traffic jams would make the bus ride up to an hour and a half long, packed with people on the hot bus. If you decided to go by car, it would be even harder to get through the traffic and no chance of finding a parking space. Bicycle? Forget it. Getting access to the fjord in Oslo was not easy!
Blue healing
Water has always been a refuge. Looking over the blue ocean provides a peace of mind. It’s like point zero, a place to start over, to get rid of bad emotions and harvest new spirit. So it got me thinking; is this all nostalgia, or does the water have this effect on everyone? Is it because of my Norwegian heritage, upbringing and culture I feel this way about water, or is this a universal phenomenon?
Like all colors, blue affects our brain and nervous system to create a psychological impact. Just like water, the color blue has been shown to lower blood pressure and heart rate. Science tells us that even the sound and sight of water makes our blood pressure drop and make us feel happier and more relaxed. After all, the prehistoric fish ancestors crawled out of the water and began the evolutionary lineage we sit atop today. Our adult bodies contain up to 60% water. Not only do we come from water, we ARE water.
According to scientific studies, being close to the sea also has a positive impact on mental health. Minerals in sea air reduce stress. Negative ions increase the flow of oxygen to the brain (which are also present around waterfalls), improving alertness and mental energy. And salt in the water preserves tryptamine, serotonin, and melatonin, which aid in diminishing depression, giving us a better night’s sleep, and boosting feelings of well-being.
The sea in Norway is usually quite cold all year round. However, swimming in cold water boosts circulation, reduces inflammation, and recharges the body. After a swim one can lay on the beach to warm up in the sun, or in wintertime run into the heat of the sauna. The alternation between hot and cold is a healthy way to boost the system, relax muscles, and strengthen the body’s immune system while stimulating the production of white blood cells.
The revelation of the Opera
When the Opera opened in Bjørvika in 2008, it became the ‹missing link› connecting the people of Oslo to the fjord. Finally, we had access to water close to the city center. The building quickly became immensely popular among tourists and the municipality in general. 2008 also sparked the initiative from the City of Oslo to start the ‘Fjordbyen’ (the fjord city) initiative. Fjordbyen has been the city’s most significant urban development project in decades. Harbor Promenade was one of the most important strategic projects under Fjordbyen which now links Frognerkilen in the west to the mouth of River Alna in the east through a 9-kilometer continuous public space.
In 2010 a new master plan for Aker brygge increased access toward the water in a major public space by removing the large restaurant boats that had been docking there for as long as I can remember. Then, when the new Astrup Fearnley museum of contemporary art opened at Tjuvholmen in 2012, the waterfront gained a new green park and a small public city beach.
In 2015 the people of Oslo finally got a proper, large scale bathing spot in the city center at the Sørenga harbor bath, a new pier and city beach at the south end of a residential development near the opera. The entire pier is a 190 meter by 28 meters wide floating park. It includes a 200 sqm enclosed sea water pool, a 50 m long open 8 track swimming pool, a diving board and a recreational area with steps into the water. Ice bathing and floating saunas have over the recent years become a popular activity across all ages, and several new saunas have surfaced along the Havnepromenaden over the past few years.
Blue future
I used to think I would have to move back to my hometown to get that day to day relationship to water. Now I’m starting to believe that living in the city actually can provide me with daily interaction with water, a connection to nature in general, and an urban lifestyle in an environmentally and socially sustainable manner. Oslo is the European Green Capital 2019 and the city has really proved that it is serious about becoming sustainable. In green, there is also blue.
The sea bath and the saunas are one step on this blue route to the future, but speaking as a local citizen, we still need more access points so we can splash our feet in the water on those hot summer days. Let’s have more city beaches, places to rent boats and kayaks, diving boards and stairs into the water. Let’s open the rivers that today are enclosed in pipes underground to make more room for nature. Let’s reintroduce and welcome animal life, birds, bees, fish and plants into the city.
The soul of a small village manifested in the body of a big city? I’m diving in!