‘Walking Europe’s Last Wilderness’ Review: A Carpathian Ramble - Kanebridge News
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‘Walking Europe’s Last Wilderness’ Review: A Carpathian Ramble

Rising along the line where eastern and western Europe divide, a forested mountain range is home to shepherds, villages and plenty of bears.

By DOMINIC GREEN
Wed, Mar 19, 2025 12:55pmGrey Clock 4 min

The Carpathian Mountains are a horseshoe-shaped range that arcs from central to southeastern Europe. From their western edge in Austria and the Czech Republic, the Carpathians rise clockwise through Slovakia and southern Poland, curve around the Hungarian plains and through western Ukraine, run south into Romania, then turn back westward and finally protrude into northern Serbia. There are wild patches in Europe’s other major ranges, but the Carpathians have forests where the Alps have ski resorts and brown bears where the Pyrenees have the microstate of Andorra. The Carpathians are the last wild place in a crowded continent.

The Carpathians, Nick Thorpe writes in “Walking Europe’s Last Wilderness,” are the “geographical center of Europe.” Their peaks and ridges form the watershed between the Baltic Sea to the north and the Black Sea to the southeast. As geography shapes history and history shapes peoples, the mountains are a political “fault line between East and West.” Once contained within the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Carpathians now curve through six European Union states, one candidate state (Serbia) and Ukraine, whose future is uncertain.

The cover art of “Walking Europe’s Last Wilderness” evokes John Craxton’s designs for Patrick Leigh Fermor’s travelogues “A Time of Gifts” (1977) and “Between the Woods and the Water” (1986). Though Mr. Thorpe describes the enduring exoticism of hospitable huts, historical grudges, handmade goat cheese and homebrewed  pálinka  fruit spirits, this is not a romanticizing epic from a lost era. Mr. Thorpe is a hiker and camper, and always ready to go barefoot in the meadows, but he lives in Budapest, one of the cities of the plains that surround the Carpathians. A BBC reporter, he launched a series of episodic explorations between 2018 and 2024. He has compiled a richly textured report on an ancient terrain that is being remade into a new political and economic landscape.

The nation-states of the region were created in the 19th and early 20th centuries by “unraveling the complex web of religious, cultural and linguistic threads that characterized Europe.” The nation-builders suppressed “local dialects, vernaculars and identities” and then the Soviets suppressed the nations. The mountains still hide the remnants of the peoples who neither attained statehood nor succumbed: Liptos, Lemkos, Boykos, Hutsuls, Bukovinians, Szeklers, Ruthenians. The revival of the nation-states and their economies after the Cold War threatens to erase the last traces of local identity.

Samo Hríbik, a shepherd in Slovakia, finds his flock by starlight without the help of a dog and fashions traditional  fujara  flutes, whose “long, shuddering notes,” Mr. Thorpe writes, suggest “the wind buffeting a thatched roof.” In western Ukraine, the 86-year-old Vasyl Kischuk puts on his traditional white smock and brown hat and demonstrates the  trembita , the traditional Hutsul wooden trumpet, and a “deep, mournful sound fills the meadow.”

As memories and traditional crafts are fading, incomers are reviving them. Mr. Thorpe meets brewers, cheesemakers, environmentalists and animal lovers mapping migration corridors for brown bears amid the refugee crisis caused by the Ukraine war. Oreste Del Sol, a Paris-born anarchist who shows Mr. Thorpe around his farm and the local slow-food cheese factory in the Ukrainian village of Nyzhnje Selyshche, tells him that being a shepherd in Ukraine is “illegal, or a-legal.” The production and sale of cheese is unregulated. The cheese, Mr. Thorpe finds, is “magnificent.”

For Slovaks, it is the mountains that matter; their national coat of arms carries three stylized ranges. Hungarians, however, speak of the “Carpathian basin” as their homeland and its ring of mountains as a lost shield against invaders. Romanians, whose country is bisected north-south by the Carpathians’ eastern flank, trace their origins to the Dacians, one of whose ancient tribes, the Carpi, gives the name of the mountains. For all their governments, forestry is big business. There are still “primeval forests” in the Carpathians, untouched by humans. There are many “old-growth” forests that were too remote or located on terrain too steep to be exploited in the past. There are also “buffer zones” such as national parks. But the forestry companies now have modern cutting technology and transport, and satellite imagery.

The bouncy IKEA Pöang chair in Mr. Thorpe’s Budapest home is made from beechwood. Romania has two-thirds of Europe’s old-growth forests and IKEA is “the largest private forest owner in Romania.” On paper, IKEA is a “champion of sustainable forestry.” Environmentalists claim, however, that some of its beechwood is “illegally logged—or, at best, over-logged.” IKEA insists it practices “responsible forest management.” Mr. Thorpe goes to a hilltop near Romania’s border with Ukraine. Google Maps shows it “thickly forested.” Mr. Thorpe finds only stumps and scattered branches.

Romsilva, the state forestry company, manages about two-thirds of Romania’s forests. It is charged with both protecting national parks and exploiting a national asset. According to the Romanian Forestry Inventory, 18 million cubic meters (about 635 million cubic feet) of timber were legally felled annually between 2014 and 2017, but “a further 18 million cubic meters were cut illegally each year.” Between 2010 and 2020, 600 members of the Forestry Guard were assaulted after intervening to stop illegal logging. Six were killed.

When Mr. Thorpe leaves the Slovakian capital of Bratislava, he notices that a “gulf of sheer incomprehension has opened up between the village and the city.” The gulf never narrows. “The mountain people, those born and bred here, don’t do much walking in the mountains,” says Sergiu Frusinoiu, a Romanian working with a mountain rescue group. Romania’s “bear problem” is worsening as humans expand into the mountainous territory of its large carnivores: bears, wolves, lynx and jackals. New roads cut across bear migration routes. New towns increase human-carnivore contact. The bears are learning to see humans as a source of food. The Romanian government will allow “the hunting of nearly 500 bears by the end of 2025.” Foreigners, Germans especially, will pay up to 20,000 euros to kill a big male. But no one can agree how many bears there are in Romania, or whether there are really “too many.”

The mayor of Băile Tușnad has educated his townspeople, spent €10,000 on bear-proof trash cans, and cut down the fruiting apple and plum trees in his town. The bears no longer come into Băile Tușnad but, he says, neither do other Romanian mayors in search of advice. Many politicians and businessmen are deep in corrupt forestry deals. The U.S. and EU’s plans for postwar Ukraine include building a “circular road through the Carpathians” to open the mountains for further development. The oligarchs will build ski resorts “where the playboys and playgirls of the new Ukraine will glide effortlessly at high speed, while their brothers, or uncles, sit bitterly at home in wheelchairs.” Old-growth forests make new money, and slow food comes second to a quick buck.



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Hoping to recreate a freewheeling world tour from their youth, two retirees set themselves a ‘no itinerary’ challenge: Can they improvise their way across seven countries?

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Hoping to recreate a freewheeling world tour from their youth, two retirees set themselves a ‘no itinerary’ challenge: Can they improvise their way across seven countries?

By Diane Di Costanzo
Wed, May 21, 2025 4 min

In our 20s, my new husband and I took a year off from our fledgling careers to travel in Southeast Asia. Equipped with paper maps, we began in China and improvised each day’s “itinerary” on the go. A gap year for grown-ups, I called it, although I scarcely qualified as one.

Nearly 40 years later, we are new retirees with the same wanderlust. We wondered: Could we recapture the thrill of winging it, enduring rough roads and cheap hotels?

We could and did, but for 2½ months instead of 12. We mapped out a route that would take us up Africa’s east coast and then—who knows where? Here’s how we rolled and five important lessons we learned on a 6,000-mile trip.

Kenya: Live large by day

Our first stop was the tiny, car-free island of Lamu, well-known for its high-profile visitors, from Kate Moss to the Obamas. This low-key getaway offered white-sand beaches, dhows — boats you can rent for day cruises and snorkelling — and lots of donkeys, the main mode of transport.

We considered the beachside Peponi Hotel in Shela, a hot spot since the 1960s (Mick Jagger bunked there). But room rates start at $250, far above our per-night budget of $70 or less. When contemplating almost 100 nights of travel, price matters.

So we chose a villa in the dunes called Amani Lamu, $61 per night for an en suite room with a private terrace and shared plunge pool.
We still had a cool Peponi moment come sunset: On the hotel’s whitewashed veranda, we sipped Pepotinis and plotted our next day’s interlude at the Majlis, Lamu’s fanciest resort (from $580).

With a $20 day pass, we could lounge around its pools and beach bars like proper resort habitués.

Lesson learned: Live like billionaires by day and frugal backpackers by night.
Must-go: Across the bay on Manda Island, bunk a night in a thatched-roof bungalow on stilts at Nyla’s Guest House and Kitchen (from $48 with breakfast).
After a dinner of doro wat, a spicy Ethiopian chicken stew and rice, the sound of waves will lull you asleep.

Egypt: Ask. Politely.

From Lamu, we flew to Aswan in Egypt. Our “plan”: Cruise down the Nile to Luxor, then take a train to Cairo, and venture to Giza’s pyramids.

Turns out it’s the kind of thing one really should book in advance. But at our Aswan hostel, the proprietor, who treated us like guests deserving white-glove service, secured a felucca, a vessel manned by a navigator and captain-cum-cook.

Since we’d booked fewer than 24 hours in advance and there were no other takers, we were its sole passengers for the three-day trip.
One day, we stopped to tour ancient temples and visit a bustling camel fair, but otherwise, we remained on board watching the sunbaked desert slide by.

We slept on futons on the deck under the stars. The cost: about $100 per night per person, including three meals.

Lesson learned: Ask for help. We found Egyptians kind and unfazed by our haplessness, especially when we greeted them respectfully with assalamu alaikum (“Peace to you”).
Must-go: For buys from carpets to kebabs, don’t miss Cairo’s massive Khan el-Khalili bazaar, in business since 1382. We loved the babouche, cute leather slippers, but resisted as our packs were full.

Turkey: Heed weather reports

Next stop Tunisia, via a cheap flight on EgyptAir. We loved Tunisia, but left after six days because the weather got chilly.

Fair enough, it was January. We hopped continents by plane and landed in Istanbul, where it snowed. Fortunately, two of Istanbul’s main pleasures involve hot water. We indulged in daily hammams, or Turkish baths, ranging from $30 to $60 for services that included, variously, a massage, a scrub-down and a soak.

Beneath soaring ceilings at the temple-like Kılıç Ali Paşa Halamı, brisk workers sternly wielded linen sacks to dowse my body in a cloud of hot foam.
In between visits to Ottoman-era mosques and the city’s spice markets, we staved off the chill by drinking fruity pomegranate tea and sampling Turkish delight and baklava at tea salons.

A favourite salon: Sekerci Cafer Erol in Kadıköy, a ferry-ride away on the “Asian” side of Istanbul, where the city adjoins Asia.

Lesson learned: Pay attention to the weather gods. We foolishly took the concept of travelling off-season too far.
Must-go: Don’t miss the Istanbul Modern, the Renzo Piano-designed art museum in the historic Beyoğlu district.

Cambodia: Chill out

After a long flight from Istanbul, we spent two weeks in Laos and then hopped another plane to Cambodia, specifically Koh Rong Sanloem, another car-free island.

Like vagabonds, we lolled by the warm, super-blue water of Sunset Beach, steps from our bungalow at Sleeping Trees (from $54 per night).

A caveat: You have to sweat to get to this island paradise. We took a bus, a ferry and then hiked for 40 minutes up and down a steep hill and through a jungle. You’ll find only a handful of “resorts”—simple bungalow complexes like ours. There’s nothing much to do. I’ll be back.

Lesson learned: Until our week in Cambodia, we’d been travelling too much and too fast, prioritising exploration over relaxation. This island taught us the pleasures of stasis.
Must-go: Spend one day in Cambodia’s capital city, Phnom Penh, to delve into its sobering history. Tour the Choeung Ek Genocidal Centre, site of a Killing Field, where nearly 9,000 Cambodians died.

Thailand: Be a frugal hedonist

We spent our last two weeks on the island of Ko Samui, where season three of “The White Lotus” was shot.
We went there for its astounding beauty, not the luxury resort experience that comes with too many boisterous lads on vacation, snake farms and traffic jams in town.

Truth be told, we flouted our budget rules to book an Airbnb with a pool (from $300) in the hills of Lipa Noi on the island’s quiet side. We joined the nearby Gravity Movement Gym to work out, but cooked our own meals to keep our final tabulation of expenses within reach.

Lesson learned: Pinching pennies feels restrictive, no matter how lush the surroundings. And it leads to bickering, as partners tally up who squandered how much on what.
With the end in sight, we splurged on the villa and even bought souvenirs, knowing we’d lug them for days, not weeks.
Must-go: Take the 30-minute ferry to sister island Ko Pha Ngan for its peace, love and yoga vibe and, once a month, full-moon parties.
Via Airbnb, we bunked at a Thai house called Baan Nuit, run by the Dear Phangan restaurant proprietors.

We sampled steamed dumplings, white fish in a Thai basil sauce and spicy noodles for a mere $15 apiece.
Hey, indulge in that “White Lotus” moment if you dare!