Wildlife and Conservation in Romania’s Făgăraș Mountains
As darkness envelops the Făgăraș Mountains in Romania, we contemplate our surroundings when suddenly, a brown bear emerges, showcasing its dramatic flair. Approximately half the size of a full-grown adult, it roams the forest clearing, alternating between sniffing the wet soil and gazing at the cool night air.
Shortly after our first visitor disappears into the darkness, a second arrives with majesty. A stag approaches, its impressive antlers bowed towards the rain-soaked earth, revealing its regal presence mere meters away. As night falls, we reluctantly lower our binoculars and settle in for a midnight feast.
If the wildlife observation of the previous night was a thrilling experience, the following morning in the Carpathians of Transylvania transforms into a bustling spectacle. With the dawn chorus crescendoing, we witness two additional bears—one large and one small—alongside a wild boar that resembles a stout pygmy hippo traversing the aromatic trails.
As we make our way back to civilization, an unexpected hindrance appears—a logger’s tractor blocks our path. With a rumble, it shifts felled trunks of spruce out of the roadway. Observing this sight evokes a strong sense of opposition within me as I reflect on the forest’s treasures being stripped away.
‘The last wild places harboring these beautiful creatures must be preserved for all of Europe,’ emphasizes our host, Christoph Promberger, as he navigates the rugged terrain of the upper Dâmbovița Valley.
Romania is considered one of Europe’s last wild frontiers, hosting the highest levels of biodiversity within the EU, boasting vast virgin forests, and being home to large carnivores including bears, lynx, and wolves—the very species that captivated Christoph to leave his home in Germany.
Having grown up in what became the first national park in Germany, the Bavarian Forest National Park, Christoph initially arrived in Romania to study wolves as part of a research project. However, what was meant to be a three-year commitment extended into a decade, leaving him enamored with the land and its wonders.
‘I first fell in love with Romania, then with Christoph,’ recounts Barbara, his Austrian-born wife who, too, became entranced by the country’s landscapes and myths, including tales of Dracula, not far from the famed Bran Castle.
Witnessing the relentless logging in post-revolution Romania, the Prombergers took action. They initiated a fundraising campaign to create a protected wilderness area. A significant visit from Swiss-American billionaire Hansjörg Wyss broadened their aspirations significantly.
During his visit, Wyss took a helicopter tour of the area and was astounded by the wild expanse—the only visible feature being the sprawling forests. ‘This could be a European Yellowstone,’ he remarked, prompting a shift in ambition for the Prombergers, who welcomed the billionaire’s backing on two pivotal conditions: significantly larger goals and collaborative philanthropy.
Another significant ally emerged in Paul Lister, a conservationist who met Christoph over shared interests in wolves. Lister has aimed at reintroducing these majestic creatures to the Scottish Highlands as part of his rewilding project at the Alladale Wilderness Reserve.
Through Lister, the Prombergers connected with other philanthropists committed to preserving ‘natural capital.’ In 2009, they banded together to establish the Foundation Conservation Carpathia (FCC), which has since purchased and leased substantial plots of private land while acquiring hunting rights.
‘Most informed individuals acknowledge the rapidly escalating environmental crisis,’ states Lister. ‘Thus, what better initiative than to conserve Europe’s last pristine forests? Romania is unequivocally essential to our continent’s ecology and endangered landscapes.’
With such influential support, the Prombergers are making strides toward their ambitious vision of establishing a comprehensive national park around the Făgăraș Mountains. To date, the FCC has secured 225 sq km and established a hunting-free zone spanning 360 sq km.
Restoration of degraded forest areas is crucial to the foundation’s objectives. Christoph leads us to a transformed site that had suffered from over-logging years ago. Once a desolate landscape of stumps and tainted waters, it has now revitalized into a thriving thicket of various trees. A walk through reveals fresh bear tracks amidst vibrant flora.
The FCC’s goal is to reach a total of 500 sq km, forming the heart of a future park. Their plan includes transferring this land to the government under the condition that the protected area expands to 2,500 sq km—providing a sanctuary from the Olt Valley through to Piatra Craiului.
A wilderness of this magnitude could rival iconic sites like Yellowstone, the Serengeti, or Parque Nacional Torres del Paine, consequently establishing it as a significant attraction. The Prombergers envision this as just the start of a corridor of new parks across the Carpathians, fostering a green belt in the heart of Europe—a vital carbon sink.
While this once seemed an elusive dream, Christoph and Barbara note a shift in political sentiment toward environmental conservation, highlighted by a new wave of concerned MEPs advocating for climate initiatives. Moreover, emerging data suggests that large-scale forest restoration is currently our most effective strategy.
Yet securing funds represents just one of the hurdles. Convincing the local population of the park’s potential economic benefits is equally vital. Reflecting on the local sentiments surrounding the foundation of the Bavarian Forest National Park, Christoph recounted past resistance where locals had reacted violently against outside proposals. Today, that park is a cherished national asset.
To succeed, the FCC must foster understanding that a new park would catalyze a ‘green economy,’ generating diverse job opportunities. By comparison, Yellowstone attracts four million visitors annually—double that of Romania—and with 500 million Europeans within three hours of Bucharest, Romania’s potential market is considerable.
This year marks a significant milestone, as TENT has started offering ‘conservation journeys’ for tourists to explore the impact of the FCC’s initiatives in the Făgăraș Mountains. These journeys combine wildlife observation with sustainable partnerships among local entrepreneurs.
A highlight during these trips is the remarkable Amfiteatrul Transilvania, a pioneering business model nestled between the limestone ridges of Piatra Craiului and Bucegi National Park. This family-run establishment features a restaurant and eco-friendly cottages surrounded by breathtaking alpine meadows.
Emphasizing sustainability, the restaurant, constructed from local materials, attracts visitors from nearby Brașov. The owners are also expanding their offerings, including yoga courses and wellness retreats, with plans to renovate hay barns scattered throughout the flowering meadows to create unique accommodation options.
According to Constantin Robu, who discovered this splendid hilltop location during a hike 17 years ago, the meadows serve as a natural pharmacy, filled with hundreds of medicinal plants. However, the therapeutic benefits extend beyond medicines alone; simply observing butterflies and other fauna amidst the lush flora provides a powerful rejuvenating experience.
The potential ripple effects are vast. If environmental rehabilitation efforts stall, negative influences such as logging and farming may encroach upon these untouched mountains. Conversely, if the Prombergers’ plans materialize, Romania could emerge as a beacon of hope for global conservation efforts—a nation where environmental prosperity and economic growth coexist harmoniously.
James Kay traveled to Romania with support from Wizz Air and TENT. iBestTravel contributors maintain editorial independence and do not accept complimentary services in return for positive endorsements.