Ah, how the times change. Find a real old-timer Malmöite, and they’ll tell you how the area around Möllevångstorget was, in the 1980s and 1990s, something of a desperate ghetto, inhabited by pockets of immigrant community mixed in with the poorest of the native poor: a rough, hard-luck corner of an industrial city whose industry had all but gone.
Things started to change around the turn of the century: those immigrant communities ran stores and opened restaurants, and among the native poor were artists and musicians and cultural actors, who are always (if unwittingly, and sometimes unwillingly) the vanguard of gentrification. By the start of the 2020s, as the big gaming firms consolidated their influence on the city, Möllevången was starting to look pretty nice—or losing its edge, depending on who you asked.
And so the wave of gentrification rolled steadily eastward and southward, and the meaning of “Möllan”—the local in-the-know diminutive for Möllevången—became more expansive, capturing smaller areas such as Sofielund, Sorgenfri, Lönngården, Augustenborg and even Persborg. This property politics will likely matter little to the visitor; the upshot for you is that this is where a lot of short-term lodgings and apartment swaps are located, in a safe and friendly neighbourhood full of decent places to eat, even if most of the bars and music venues have long since been moved on in response to neighbours complaining about the noise.
It is not without its lingering elements of edge, however: the old anarchic spirit of Möllan clings on in the kulturljudområdet along the infamous NGBG, and in a handful of flexblocks. Nowadays, though, if you want to be surrounded by interesting immigrant eateries and hang out with students and young artists, you probably want to get on your bike and head up to Västra Hamnen…