You are now standing in front of the moat – a line of defense dug in the 16th century, when Gräfsnäs Castle was relocated from the island of Loholmen. It cuts across the isthmus where the castle stands, turning the site into an artificial island – easy to defend, difficult to attack.

The land connection was removed and replaced by a drawbridge, which could quickly be pulled up in times of threat. Along the embankments rose tall wooden stakes – known as pallisader – a jagged barrier against intruders.

But this place wasn’t only about defense. Beside the moat lay a carp pond, where fish were kept alive in special enclosures called sumpar. This meant the castle kitchen always had access to fresh fish – even when the lake was frozen or lashed by storms.

Time moved on. The castle flourished – and then began to decline. In the 1800s, a fisherman named Nils Nilsson moved into a few rooms to the left of the main entrance. He would become the castle’s last tenant. His rent wasn’t paid in money – but in fish: 170 kilos per year.

After his death, the castle took on a new role. The old banquet hall became a dance floor for the local youth. Music, laughter, and summer night parties once again filled the ruins with life.

But the village priests were outraged – they called it sinful. A decision was made: the roof had to go.

Without a roof, the parties stopped – but so did something more. Rain, snow, and wind began to wear away the walls from the inside out.

Slowly but surely, Gräfsnäs transformed – from a magnificent Renaissance castle into what you see before you today: a ruin, rich with memories – but left behind.