In Europe’s Largest Artificial Lakeland, Tourism Is At A Crossroads

From the top of the Rusty Nail, a striking architectural observation tower that stands sentinel over the Lusatian Lake District, you can see all the way to the Czech border.

There are lakes, orchards, enormous windmills and, far in the distance, the Schwarze Pumpe power station, an 800 megawatt electric power plant that burns lignite coal.

This is a picture of Germany’s past — and future.

“Germany is phasing out coal energy production by 2038,” explains Heinz Müller, a former engineer who worked in eastern Germany’s coal mines.

It’s also an image of Germany’s tourism future. This part of the country used to have a reputation for its lignite strip mines and heavy pollution. It’s a dramatic contrast to the scene today. Just below the Rusty Nail, there are pristine pine forests, lakes that glisten under the sun, and immaculate asphalt cycle paths. The only signs of human activity below are a few fellow cyclists. The air is clear again.

After strip mining, a sustainable future

Müller witnessed the region’s transformation, which began with the end of mining in the late 1960s at what is now Lake Senftenberg. Authorities considered three possibilities: forestry and nature conservation, agricultural use, or recreational use, which entailed filling the pits with water. They chose all three.

Lusatia’s transformation isn’t just an environmental project.

“It’s a natural example of sustainability,” says Müller.

This region, once an industrial powerhouse, is transforming into a service economy, with tourism at its heart. It’s a colossal undertaking, a more than $2 billion regeneration program that has turned former opencast mines into Europe’s largest artificial lakeland.

There are 26 new lakes, 13 of which are already accessible, many connected by canals and an impressive 300-mile network of cycle paths. This project has attracted global attention and has served as a model for large-scale landscape reconstruction and environmental cleanup.

The goal is not just to clean up but to make these landscapes usable again, restoring or redesigning them in a manner appropriate to their new purpose.

This region, once an industrial powerhouse, is transforming into a service economy, with tourism at its heart. It’s a colossal undertaking, a more than $2 billion regeneration program that has turned former opencast mines into Europe’s largest artificial lakeland. 

A transition with challenges

The transformation hasn’t been easy. One major hurdle has been the acidity of the lakes. Müller says the water in these former pits initially had pH values below 5, due to minerals churned up during mining. To make them safe for aquatic life and human recreation, they had to be flushed with river water or have limestone poured in, raising the pH to fish-sustaining levels.

Another persistent issue is ensuring the area’s geological stability. The earth hauled out of the pits over decades was often simply deposited in loose piles, creating a risk of landslides. Continuous monitoring and remediation are crucial, since a misplaced step could cause a section to slide back into the water. It is a massive, ongoing engineering challenge beneath the tranquil surface.

And while tourism jobs are growing and forming an important foundation for the region’s renewed economic vitality, they can’t fully replace the tens of thousands lost from the coal industry. This represents a fundamental shift not just in the landscape, but in the community itself. It’s a transition that requires patience.

Vacation in Lusatia?

Lusatia is marketing itself as a major tourist destination, and aims to increase overnight stays from 930,000 to 1.5 million per year. So what is there to do, other than admire the area’s transformation?

There’s cycling, of course, with that extensive network of bike paths. Fishing, diving and horseback riding are important options, too. There are accommodations ranging from simple campsites to floating vacation rental apartments, as well as luxury resorts.

The four-star Seeschlößchen Ayurveda Spa & Hotel is a fascinating example of this new direction. It’s an “adults-only” hideaway, focusing on wellness and nature. It offers a 5,000-square-meter spa with a heated outdoor pool. The hotel, whose name literally means “small castle by the sea,” has a culinary approach that blends regional Lusatian cuisine with Ayurvedic dishes from Sri Lanka.

Despite the challenges, Lusatia is experiencing a noteworthy ecological comeback. The lakes are now home to a thriving array of biodiversity. On the protected island in Lake Senftenberg, you can see over 80 different bird species, either nesting there or passing through on migration. More widely, animals and plants driven from other intensively farmed European landscapes, including wolves, the Eurasian hoopoe bird, and a plant called great horsetail, are reclaiming these areas.

These newly created lakes also serve as vital water buffers against climate change, storing water during wet periods and releasing it during droughts, a crucial function for cities like Berlin that depend on water flowing through Lusatia. This whole region has become a giant laboratory for geologists, economists, and biologists, exploring what a post-industrial, rewilded landscape can become.

The view from the Rusty Nail

The panoramic view from the Rusty Nail is more than a look at Germany’s energy past and future. This metal monolith offers a vantage point for what is possible, when it comes to sustainable tourism.

It’s a powerful metaphor for Lusatia itself – a region deeply scarred by its past, yet now reaching for something entirely new. The transformation here is a declaration of intent, a belief that even the most heavily industrialized areas can heal and thrive once more.

But the road ahead won’t be easy. The balance between sustainable energy, burgeoning tourism, and environmental preservation is a complex challenge.

Will the influx of visitors compromise the delicate ecosystems that have only just begun to recover? Can the region adapt its energy infrastructure to meet the demands of a changing climate without damage to its economy?

The Lusatian Lake District will probably have its answers by 2038 — if not sooner.