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Romania - 2006 tourist destination
in “Vogue List”
Romania has been declared the “2006 holiday
destination” according to a yearly standing by the Vogue Magazine.
The proposed location is the Danube Delta, described as “Europe’s
New Zealand, within three hour’s flying distance”. “A
trip to Romania comes with a lot of surprises. For example, there
you will find special wines (some of the oldest in Europe, as Romanians
are claiming) and the country is the world largest legal caviar
exporter. Then, it is the unbelievably beautiful scenery and, above
anything else, the fact that horse-pulled carts seems be more numerous
than the cars”, says the list author. Among the shortcomings
identified by the magazine, would be the shortage of quality accommodation
available until recently. A good example is, in the opinion of the
‘Vogue Magazine, the Delta Nature Resort, a condominium made
up of 30 premium quality villas in the Danube Delta. “Relax
while sitting on the villa balcony watching the pelicans while they
are fishing, take a walk to the Saon monastery and enjoy a delicious
lunch or row a boat on the channels in the Delta admiring the herons,
egrets and the spoonbills. That is the New Zealand of Europe and
is just three hours away by plane”, reads the article in the
British magazine. “Vogue List” presents the most important
100 trends in fashion, travelling, design, goods and personalities
for the following year.
UNESCO
In August 1990, the Danube Delta was declared by
UNESCO reservation of the biosphere. It is made up of the delta,
the complex of lagoons Razim-Sinoe and Valea Dunarii upstream until
it gets to Cotul Pisicii, measuring a surface of 591.200 ha. This
represents 2.5% of Romania's territory. In this area, the vegetal
associations comprise of over 1.150 species of plants grouped as
it follows:
aquatic plants - hydrophilic submersibles or natante, nenuphars,
yellow water lilies, club mosses, sword flags, etc.
* the floating reed islet, 19.5 km² - floating island, thick
of 0.60-2 m, made up of roots and reed rhizomes.
* the riverside coppices of willow trees, poplar trees, red and
white sea buckthorns
* exotic forests on Letea and Caraorman narrow reefs made up of
autumnal and pedunculate thick oak trees, black and white poplar,
alder trees, elm trees etc., shrubs like the hawthorn, the cornel
tree, the privet, Mediterranean vegetation, ivy and Virginia creeper,
and also lianas, clematis vitalba, humulus rupulus, periploca graeca
* 60% of the world's population of cormorants
* the largest cormorant population in Europe
* almost half of the world's population with red neck (they spend
the winter here)
* besides these ones, we can also notice the winter and summer swan,
wild ducks and geese, white, gray, yellow and red herons, cranes,
egrets, spoon bills, eastern flossy ibis, bald coots, white tailed
eagle, Dobrudjan hawks, storks, flamingo birds.
* Ichthyofauna comprises over 1.500 fish species, among which we
can mention: the sturgeons- the beluga, the Black Sea sturgeon,
the sterlet and the sevruga
* the bearers of black roes: the mackerels, the anchovies, the carp,
the sheat fish, the pike perch, the pike etc.
The Danube Delta also offers the favorable living environment for
mammals - the wild boar, the fox, the otter, the mink, the ermine,
the muskrat, etc. The reptiles are not missing, either: the sand
snake, the small steppe viper and more rarely the land turtle.
Eastern Europe's Eden
Romania's Danube Delta may be Europe's next great
eco-destination. Gisela Williams checks out the luxurious new Delta
Nature Resort.
By Gisela Williams
"We have a saying in Romania," my wilderness guide, Catalin
Stoinescu, tells me as he rows us along the grassy shoreline of
Somova Lake, near the Danube Delta. "In this country anything
is possible, yet at the same time everything is impossible."
I ponder his words along with my surroundings: to my left, a green
hill covered with rows of short, twisted grapevines, and to my right,
a vast lake, its smooth surface broken only by golden reed beds
and submerged willow trees. There are no sounds except for the dipping
of the oars in the water, the sudden splash and flight of a surprised
duck and the calls of a cuckoo bird.
So far, on my first full day at the new Delta Nature Resort, everything
does seem possible, even after a four-hour, occasionally bumpy drive
from Bucharest. Now I'm floating on the edge of the Danube Delta,
an almost 2,000-square-mile labyrinth of water, reed beds, sand
dunes, trees and hills. I'm here in this remote corner of Romania
because the former Communist country is one of Europe's last wild
frontiers, an eco-destination of great promise. The delta, a Unesco
Biosphere Reserve, is one of the world's most spectacular wetlands.
In the Carpathian Mountains of the Transylvania region-another of
Romania's unspoiled places-thousands of bears and wolves still roam
free. Transylvania, which has one of Europe's largest natural ecosystems
as well as an impressive number of medieval fortified villages and
churches, is where the fight to protect Romania's wild spaces began
four years ago: In a battle over one of those villages, Sighisoara,
local and international environmental groups, including one led
by Prince Charles, squelched a government-sponsored plan for a Dracula
theme park.
Inspired by that success, young British heir Ben Goldsmith-brother
of socialite Jemima Khan and son of the late billionaire Sir James
Goldsmith-and his partner Michael Radomir, of the Marks & Spencer
family, have invested in several sustainability projects in Romania.
Next year, in an effort to revitalize the rural community, they're
launching a dairy called the Transylvania Nature Product Company,
which will make organic mozzarella, yogurt and ice cream with milk
from indigenous buffalo; last summer they opened the Delta Nature
Resort, my base on the Danube Delta.
Goldsmith and Radomir are hoping tourists who come to the delta
and see its astounding beauty will help drum up support for preserving
its ecosystem. The delta is home to a remarkable number of plant
and animal species-more than 300 bird varieties, 125 species of
freshwater fish and 1,600 plant and tree types. From May to October,
the area is a breeding ground for migratory birds, from cormorants
and storks to the rare Dalmatian pelican. In the fall, endangered
red-breasted geese arrive from Siberia. "We're talking about
something as powerful as the Florida Everglades, but it's still
undeveloped," Radomir tells me.
As Stoinescu slowly rows back to the resort-a 32-acre property
with 30 sage-colored bungalows of wood and stone, built on a waterside
slope-he fills me in on why the delta needs the attention. The Bystroye
Canal, along the delta's border with neighboring Ukraine, has recently
been the focus of much environmental concern. In 2004 Ukraine started
dredging the canal in order to allow traffic from the Danube River
to the Black Sea. International protests have stopped the dredging
for now, but if Ukraine resumes its plans, the damage to the entire
delta could be massive and irreversible.
We reach the shore and I head to my bungalow to relax and spend
some time just staring at the scenery. The bungalow is decorated
like a luxury fishing cabin, with wooden floors, chunky polished-wood
furniture, hand-woven rugs and framed duck prints; in the living
room there's a fireplace and a flat-screen TV. My favorite detail
is on the outside: Each cabin has a birdhouse hanging from the roof,
and all day birds flit back and forth, oblivious to their human
neighbors. Almost everything, from the birdhouse to the furniture
and rugs, is custom-made for the resort. I ignore the television
and sit on the wide veranda, to gaze at the water and listen to
the chorus of frogs.
Eventually, I make my way to Feathers, the resort's restaurant,
which has an intimate dining room painted with pictures of birds.
It's a holiday weekend so the tables are full of families from Bucharest
who are here to check out Romania's first high-end hotel. (The resort's
gracious service-and perks like chocolate truffles on the pillow
and wireless Internet in the bungalows-are still a rarity outside
the capital.) Sandeep Chadha, an India-born chef who came to the
Delta Nature Resort from the Hyatt Regency in New Delhi, offers
two menus: one that he labels International, which has Italian dishes
and Indian classics that reflect his culinary training and background,
and one that focuses on Romanian cuisine.
Chadha has spent the past year tracking down local fishermen and
farmers who can supply him with first-rate ingredients, and researching
Romanian cuisine by learning traditional recipes from his staff
and their families. I try the saramura de peste, pickled pike perch
that's lightly brined, a popular way to conserve local fresh fish;
sarmalute de vita cu praz si hrean, minced meat wrapped in leek
leaves, a dish that displays Romania's Greek influences; and mici,
skinless sausages of minced beef and pork-sort of a Romanian bar
snack. They're followed by a rich Moldavian pork stew, made with
sautéed pork flavored with onions and garlic and served over
polenta. The cuisine is hearty and satisfying, and Chadha's preparations
do it justice. "It's Mama's food," he says.
The next day, at lunch with the resort's primary owner, Diwaker
Singh, I sample a fancier local dish: beluga caviar. It's superb-large-grained,
the color of dark slate, with a creamy, firm texture and explosive
flavor. Eating caviar here presents a dilemma: On the one hand,
the sturgeon population in the delta, as elsewhere in the world,
is on the decline, so a huge demand for caviar around here would
endanger the species further. On the other hand, caviar production
is still legal in the region, and the resort's policy is to serve
indigenous cuisine and ingredients to support small local suppliers.
As he spoons a little caviar from a bowl, Singh describes to me
how he came to Romania from India as a businessman eight years ago.
An avid amateur birder, he returned to the delta for a family vacation
in 1999, and was surprised to find only sterile Communist-style
accommodations.
When he finally came back a few years later, he worked closely
with Virgil Munteanu-at the time the governor of the Danube Delta
Biosphere Reserve and now the resort's chief operating ocer-to build
a resort that would be a leading example of ecotourism in the region.
That meant investing in a biodegradable waste system, using only
local building materials, hiring almost entirely local staff, and
planning delta excursions for guests-from a trip to a vineyard to
bird-watching safaris-that would showcase the local ecology as well
as Romanian traditions. For example, the resort's daylong bird adventures
are broken up with an authentic Romanian fisherman's meal. After
taking guests on a bird-spotting expedition on the delta in his
boat, the resort's skipper, Ivanov "Sasha" Alexandru,
a lifelong fisherman, puts a pot over a fire and makes a delicious
Romanian fish soup from the fattiest catch of the day-usually catfish,
carp or pike perch-flavored with onions, potatoes, bell peppers
and tomatoes from nearby farms.
Singh is planning to create three more resorts in Romania, all
with the mission of preserving local culture and ecology, and he's
currently restoring the historic Borsec spa in Transylvania. The
Romanian government has been so pleased with his help in bringing
investments into the country, it recently knighted him.
My final morning I set off again with Stoinescu to explore the
surrounding lakes and to have lunch at a nearby convent, another
popular excursion. The nunneries and monasteries of Romania have
retained many of the country's traditional recipes, which almost
disappeared during the Communist regime. After taking us along the
delta for an hour or so of bird-watching, our boat pulls up outside
the 19th-century Saon convent. On the nunnery's grounds are gardens
full of apple and cherry trees, and an Orthodox church with shiny
metallic spires. An elderly, black-robed nun slowly herds her sheep.
Walking around the manicured landscape, I feel as if I've somehow
wandered onto the pages of a medieval illuminated manuscript. Sitting
in a small dining area, surrounded by white walls painted with portraits
of religious saints, we drink simple wine made by the nuns and eat
a three-course meal of local specialties: an assortment of fresh
handcrafted cheeses and chiftele, a Turkish-inspired dish of meatballs
made with fish (a legacy of the Turkish population in the delta
region); a turkey soup garnished with lovage, an herb that smells
and tastes like a combination of celery and fennel; and roast lamb
with boiled potatoes. Gabriella, a young, dark-haired nun with a
shy smile, serves us and explains that all the ingredients used
in the kitchen are raised organically on the grounds of the convent.
We return to the resort by jeep. Stoinescu drives me past rolling
meadows and through villages where the primary mode of transportation
is horse-and-carriage. We get stuck behind one for a few minutes.
While waiting to pass, I take a picture of the wagon from our car
window. Without proof, I doubt that anyone back home will believe
my Romanian fairy tale of a day: lunch with nuns, followed by a
horse-and-carriage jam.
Gisela Williams, F&W's European correspondent, is based in
Düsseldorf, Germany.
The Danube's green waltz
The majestic, meandering river ends in a lush Romanian
delta, where birds and fish thrive and a fledgling eco-resort showcases
nature's bounty.
By Susan Spano
Times Staff Writer
Published August 6, 2006
AT the end of its 1,771-mile journey across Europe,
the mighty Danube River seems to give up trying to reach the Black
Sea. It turns north, away from the coast, crosses the lonely steppe
country, then frays into myriad channels, marshes, swamps and lakes
edged by waterlogged willow trees.
Colonies of birds fly in from Asia, Africa and Siberia.
In the stalled, murky water, giant carp and catfish lurk, sought
by fishermen who live in villages that can be reached only by boat.
FOR THE RECORD:
Romania: A map accompanying an Aug. 6 article about the Danube delta
labeled Budapest as the capital of Romania. The country's capital
is Bucharest. -
This is the Danube River delta, a 1.6-million-acre World Biosphere
Reserve, out of time, unknown and remote, a lost puzzle piece at
the wild, eastern edge of Europe. To see it is proof that the meandering
river has never lost heart.
All along, it knew that the shortest route is not
always the best way to get where you want to go.
In Romania, summer vacationers make a beeline for
Black Sea beaches south of Constanta, about 80 miles east of Bucharest,
Romania's capital. But only a few follow the river to its delta,
which lines the northern part of Romania's Black Sea coast between
Constanta and the Ukrainian border.
In 1999, Diwaker Singh, an Indian investment broker
who works in Bucharest, brought his family here. He found thousands
of nesting pelicans and cormorants flying in tight V formations,
flotillas of water lilies and endless beds of reeds, Black Sea dunes,
Greek and Roman archeological sites, painted monasteries and lost
fishing villages.
But there were no reliable ways to see them and
no interesting places to stay, except for a handful of dour, communist-era
resorts and ugly, high-rise hotels in the delta gateway town of
Tulcea.
Singh became acquainted with Virgil Munteanu, then-governor
of the region, who helped him get approval to build a luxury hotel
on a hill near the village of Somova, overlooking the delta. Singh's
goal was to create a model eco-resort, showcasing the folk architecture,
arts and crafts of Romania and employing local people.
Munteanu, who had just finished his term in office,
became the general manager, and the Delta Nature Resort opened in
May 2005.
I came here for a long weekend last month after
a four-hour trip from Bucharest, mostly on bumpy back roads. I traveled
in one of the resort's big Mercedes-Benz vans with Nassim, Singh's
eldest son, a tall 16-year-old with the face of a cherub and the
experience of a tycoon-in-the-making. He divides his time among
an English boarding school, India and Bucharest.
When we passed a horse-drawn hay cart on the highway,
Nassim smiled and said sagely, "The old and new really clash
here."
Less than 20 years after the overthrow of Communist
dictator Nicolae Ceausescu, Bucharest looks like a city on growth
hormones. Big-name foreign companies have opened shop, drawn partly
by rock-bottom prices for goods and services as well as a highly
literate, high-tech-savvy workforce. Real estate values are skyrocketing,
and there is construction seemingly everywhere, spurred by Romania's
expected acceptance early next year into the European Union.
The old ways
ONCE we left Bucharest, I saw shepherds moving their
flocks of sheep and goats in the age-old rhythms of transhumance,
the seasonal shifting of livestock from one pasture to another.
In a countryside largely untouched by development, in a nation still
manifestly part of the developing world, geese and pigs forage outside
tumble-down farmhouses. Families sell colossal watermelons by the
roadside, fetch water from wells and ride to town in wagons like
the Pennsylvania Dutch. Fields of wheat, corn and ravishing yellow
sunflowers stretch in seemingly every direction, with nary a gas
station or convenience store to interrupt.
The Danube delta is the region's one major attraction.
Eleven thousand years ago, sand banks built up at the mouth of the
river, giving it no other recourse than to pool into placid lakes
and back up into narrow, stagnant channels. Near Tulcea, the Danube
separates into three main branches: the Chilia, bordering Ukraine;
the Sfintu Gheorghe, flowing east below a chain of ancient, rounded-off
mountains; and the Sulina, straightened by engineers in the 19th
century to accommodate freighters.
The road to the Delta Nature Resort turns west at
Tulcea, passing a Ceausescu-era factory, with fuming smokestacks
and broken windows, that processes the raw materials for aluminum.
It keeps the town employed and distributes hot water to several
dozen villages nearby, but it also sends pollutants through an above-ground
pipe to an earth-embanked reservoir yards away from one of the delta's
arms.
You cannot visit this place without being struck
by how precious but imperiled it is. This aviary, fish tank, oxygen-producing
lung has narrowly escaped damaging development on numerous occasions,
most recently in 2004, when dredging began in a channel on the Ukrainian
side, now halted partly because of pressure from environmental groups.
Before that, Ceausescu drained sections of the wetlands for agriculture,
and the straightening of the Sulina allowed mammoth freighters into
the delta as far east as Tulcea. Its sturgeon population is now
critically endangered because of the unappeasable demand for the
fishes' tiny black eggs, known as Beluga caviar.
"The biggest problem," Singh told me when
I met him in his Bucharest office after my stay at the resort, "is
that no one seems to know who is responsible for the delta. It's
now under the Romanian ministry of agriculture, and that's a contradiction.
There is no master plan for it, and the people of the delta see
no reason why they should be involved in its conservation."
As we turned off the highway west of Tulcea, I marveled
that it took an Indian deal maker to take on the task of protecting
the Danube delta. This is a man whose knowledge of Romania, when
he first arrived here eight years ago, began and ended with Olympic
gymnast Nadia Comaneci.
Outside the ramshackle village of Somova, we ascended
a hill covered in shaggy grapevines. Suddenly, I saw the delta,
a petit-point tapestry in shades of green that stretched from horizon
to horizon. A wattle fence banked by a riot of wildflowers marks
the beginning of the resort, centered on a courtyard building with
a bar, restaurant and observation tower.
Below it, 30 villas in three military rows and a
swimming pool watch over Lake Somova, connected to the main river
channel at high tide. A dock at the waterfront with a handful of
motorboats tethered to it serves as the resort's parking lot.
I met Munteanu at the reception desk. He described
the sightseeing itinerary included in my three-night package and
warned me to stay indoors between 10 p.m. and 6 a.m., when hordes
of mosquitoes come out. The resort was preparing for a corporate
executive retreat, but for the moment I had it virtually to myself.
A few months after the resort opened, avian flu
was discovered in delta ducks and swans, the first instance of the
potentially lethal virus in continental Europe. Since its appearance
in the Danube delta it has spread as far west as France. Transmission
of the H5N1 virus from birds to humans is rare, yet thousands of
contaminated birds have been killed in Romania, and the fear of
a pandemic has kept the resort's villas largely empty.
That's a pity, because they are charming, green
shingled structures with stone fireplaces and wide front porches
where greenery hangs from the roof to the balustrade, framing the
view. Each one has a spacious living room, bedroom and bath, decorated
with such folk craft touches as woven rugs, wooden lamps and ceramics
chosen on forays through the Romanian hinterland by Singh and his
wife. The villas have modern amenities such as air conditioning,
but I immediately opened the tightly screened picture windows to
let in the breeze and the hum of the delta.
The first evening, I sat in the high-ceilinged dining
room, surrounded by an Audubon guidebook of delta birds hand-painted
on the walls. I was about to order from the menu, which is heavy
on freshwater fish and produce. But Nassim stopped by to tell me
that he had asked chef Sandeep Chadha, one of the only resort employees
not from the delta region, to make food from the subcontinent.
So I started with a plate of delicious, mixed Indian
appetizers, followed by creamy catfish curry. The wine list features
Romanian vintages that I thought would be better used in the making
of ethanol. The restaurant sells wine by the bottle, so I couldn't
try Romanian vintages by the glass.
And I had other concerns, stemming chiefly from
service that had all the ambitions of a luxury hotel but consistently
fell short. My villa had fresh flowers that were left to wither.
No one tended the pool area, and when I asked for coffee in my room,
a waiter brought only a single cup, because, he said, the resort
didn't have any thermoses.
After that, I breakfasted on the restaurant's terrace,
watching barn swallows flit neurotically around nests tucked under
the roof. White pelicans and black cormorants flew by, playing a
game of chess in the sky. They work together, Munteanu told me,
with the pelicans forming a circle on the water and the cormorants
plunging in the middle to bring up the fish.
For bird lovers
MY
two days at the resort were devoted to delta sightseeing, first
in a speedboat that took me into a network of river veins north
of Tulcea, marked by signs, like city streets. I saw egrets, herons
and immature cormorants in treetop nests, isolated wildlife viewing
towers, dilapidated excursion boats and weekend anglers in dinghies
underneath an awning of willows, hoping for a strike from one of
the delta's mean trophy pikes. Along the river, kids in mismatched
swimming suits dived off the banks while their parents played cards
and drank beer at waterfront campsites.
I got all the way to Sulina, the biggest town in
the delta with a population of about 5,000. A century ago, it was
the headquarters of the European Commission for the Danube River,
which engineered the removal of seven wide "S" curves
in the Sulina channel, shortening the trip for freighters from Tulcea
to the sea by about 17 miles. At the time, the town had about 35,000
people, foreign consulates and a busy port.
But no engineer can change the fact that the Danube
is a great sieve, carrying silt and debris that it leaves behind
on entering the Black Sea, incessantly reconfiguring the coastline.
Sulina is now about five miles west of the sea, a town in dry dock.
Submerged concrete barriers have been installed in the channel to
keep the waterway on course.
The next day, resort guide Catalin Stonescu took
me to the moldering natural history museum in Tulcea to inspect
a full array of stuffed delta birds, plus fish swimming in tanks
in the basement. We also crossed Lake Somova in a motorboat, where
I saw something better: a pale yellow squacco heron poised on a
lily pad, as motionless as the ones at the museum.
Then it was on to the Christian Orthodox Saon Monastery,
whose silver domes loom above reed beds. The compound has two churches,
one from the early 19th century, built in the Russian style with
a baby-blue interior, the other more typically Romanian, lined with
recently renovated frescoes. We lunched in the refectory, served
by a nun in a black habit who filled the table with delicious stuffed
peppers, chicken stew, home-made cheese, bread, wine and pastry.
Too soon, the idyll was over and I was back at the
Bucharest airport, watching Romania rush into the future, half wondering
whether the weekend had been a dream. So I got out my map and traced
the inefficient, indirect course of the Danube, which I now know
reaches the Black Sea in its own good time.
*
(INFOBOX BELOW)
Romanian river tour
GETTING THERE:
From LAX, connecting service to Bucharest is offered
on Lufthansa, KLM, Air France, British Airways, Air Tahiti Nui and
United. Restricted round-trip fares begin at $1,132 until Sept.
1, dropping to $1,016 until Oct. 31.
WHERE TO STAY:
Delta Nature Resort, Somova-Parches, Kilometer 3,
Tulcea, Romania; , has 30 villas, a restaurant, pool and boat dock
overlooking Lake Somova and the Danube River; doubles about $125
per person, including breakfast, or $200 per person, full board.
Special sightseeing and fishing packages are available. A van transfer
from the Bucharest airport to the resort costs $650 for four people
round-trip.