Peleș Castle

Listen first. Somewhere below the terraces, water is running over stones. That is the Peleș stream, and it gave this castle its name. The air smells of fir resin and damp moss. Above you, pointed towers and timber gables rise against the dark green slopes of the Bucegi Mountains. For a moment the scene looks less like Romania and more like a page from a Bavarian fairy tale. That impression is no accident.

The story begins with a foreign prince. In 1866, Karl of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, a German aristocrat, was invited to rule the young Romanian state. He took the name Carol. Soon after he arrived, he visited this valley in the Carpathian Mountains, the long range that curves through central Romania. He was deeply impressed by the forests and the clean mountain air. He decided that his summer residence would stand here, far from the heat and dust of Bucharest.

The town around you takes its name from Sinaia Monastery, a small religious community on the hillside nearby. The monastery itself was named after Mount Sinai, the biblical mountain in Egypt. In the nineteenth century, this was a quiet place of monks and shepherds. The royal decision changed everything. Aristocrats, bankers, and officials followed the king and built their own villas. Sinaia grew into a fashionable mountain resort, and many locals still call it the Pearl of the Carpathians.

Work on the castle began in 1873. The first architect was Johannes Schultz, and later the Czech architect Karel Liman took over and shaped much of the final building. The style is often called German Neo-Renaissance — a nineteenth-century revival of sixteenth-century European forms. Look at the facade. The lower floors are solid stone. The upper floors show dark timber frames filled with pale plaster, in the half-timbered tradition of Germany and Switzerland. The castle was inaugurated in 1883, although decoration and additions continued for many years afterwards.

Here is something most visitors walk past without noticing. Peleș was one of the most technologically advanced homes in Europe when it opened. It had its own electric power station, using the energy of the stream you heard at the start. Historical accounts describe it as one of the first castles in Europe to be lit by electricity. It also had central heating and an early lift. Behind the old-world carving, the building was a working machine.

Now turn to the terraces. Carol wanted gardens in the Italian manner, so the castle is surrounded by stepped stone terraces. Statues stand along the balustrades, and stone urns mark the corners. Fountains and stairways connect the levels. Walk slowly here. Each terrace gives a slightly different angle on the towers, and the mountains change colour behind them as clouds pass. On a clear afternoon, the stone turns warm and golden. On a misty morning, the towers fade into grey, and the whole place feels quiet and remote.

Inside, the first great space is the Hall of Honour. It is lined with dark carved wood, mostly walnut and oak. The woodwork covers walls, staircases, and balconies in dense patterns. Look up. The ceiling has a glass section, and this is the second surprise. That glass panel was designed to slide open, using an electric mechanism. On warm days, the royal family could let in fresh air and see the sky from the middle of their home.

The castle has well over a hundred rooms, and each major room follows a different theme. This was a common taste among European royalty in the late nineteenth century. Carol wanted to show the whole world inside one house. There is a Florentine Hall inspired by the Italian Renaissance. There is a Moorish Hall, with patterns drawn from Islamic Spain and North Africa. There is a Turkish salon with soft textiles and low seating. Walking through them feels like a journey across several countries in a few minutes.

The armouries surprise many visitors. Carol was a passionate collector, and the castle holds thousands of weapons and pieces of armour. You will see swords, shields, helmets, and firearms from Europe and the East. Some pieces are richly decorated with engraving and inlay. One display shows a full suit of armour for a horse as well as its rider. Children often stop here the longest, and so do many adults.

The castle also has a small private theatre. It is decorated in a light, elegant style, very different from the heavy wood of the main halls. The royal family used it for performances and, later, for film screenings. Look at the painted panels and the small rows of seats. This was entertainment on a family scale, a place for guests on long summer evenings in the mountains.

The twentieth century brought hard changes. After the Second World War, the communist regime forced King Michael the First to abdicate at the end of 1947. The state took control of royal property, including Peleș. For decades, the castle was closed to ordinary visitors or open only under strict control. After the fall of the communist regime in 1989, it reopened as a museum. Later, it was returned to the Romanian royal family, and it continues to welcome visitors today.

Before you leave the grounds, look a short distance away for a smaller building. That is Pelișor, which means Little Peleș. It was built for Carol's heir, Ferdinand, and his wife, Queen Marie. Marie was a granddaughter of Queen Victoria and a strong, artistic personality. Her rooms are lighter and more personal, with Art Nouveau design — the flowing, nature-inspired style of the early twentieth century. If you have time, the contrast between the two houses tells you a lot about two generations of royalty.

As you walk back down the path, turn around once more. Notice how the castle fits into the slope, with the forest pressing close on every side. The towers do not dominate the mountains — the mountains still feel larger. Listen again for the stream under the trees. It still runs where it ran when a foreign prince first stood here and chose this valley. Take a breath of that cool air, and carry it with you down into Sinaia.