Prishtina Bear Sanctuary, Kosovo: Where to see rescued restaurant bears in the Balkans

In eastern Europe and the Balkans, it's a thing: if you want people to come to your restaurant, you get a bear. You stick the bear in a cell and the theory is that people will come from all over to eat your kebab.

The first time I saw a restaurant bear, it was a hot day in southern Russia and a ramp to a cafe passed over a concrete bear pit. The pit made for a convenient place to toss empty water bottles and chocolate wrappers. The bear's pool had dried up, a dead branch was the only sign of the natural world. The bear moaned as it walked in small circles.

Happily, restaurant bears were outlawed in Kosovo in 2010. Given the country declared its independence from Serbia only 10 years ago, that's fast work.

Since 2013, Austrian-based animal welfare group Four Paws has been tracking down these captive brown bears, rescuing 19 in the southern Balkans. They now live in Prishtina Bear Sanctuary, a leafy, 16-hectare paradise near Kosovo's capital and a highlight of my recent trip through Kosovo, Albania and Macedonia.

Following a path through the forest on the perimeter of the bears' vast enclosures, the first bear we spy is Anik, a 19-year-old Kosovan who spent 14 years in a small cage with four other bears before his rescue in 2013. We're far away, but Anik's easy to spot. Somehow, he's managed to haul his vast, shaggy red-rust bulk up a slender tree, where he noses some lichen.

The path then leads to Mira, who lazes happily amongst the summer flowers, right beside the double fence which we follow to an old rusted cage. For 11 years, it was the home of Kassandra, Four Paws' first rescue bear. She was abandoned – still in the cage – when the restaurant closed and the owner left.

There's Pasha the "chain bear", so called because he was permanently chained up. Gina was a restaurant bear, and Tomi is known as the 'beer bear' because he was fed only on bread and beer, keeping him doped up and docile. Tomi's new friend is lucky young Hope, who spent only a year in a three-cubic-meter cage. Her cheery bear biography pinned to the fence tells me that Hope enjoys leaping into her pool and loves all food except cucumbers, which she abhors.