Thursday, August 3, 2006
Well, it wasn’t the warmest welcome to Germany – literally or figuratively. It was cold and wet with a blanket of grey clouds that covered the land with a steady rainfall that never changed. It definitely wasn’t the fairytale day I had imagined for seeing Neuschwanstein – the storybook castle built by Mad Ludwig and the castle that served as Walt Disney’s inspiration for the universally known Disney icon. I didn’t know all this the first time I laid eyes on this wonderful fairytale palace. The first time I saw the castle was on a poster in a little gift store – you know with the poster racks at the back of the store? I was flipping through the racks, past the Dukes of Hazard girls in their short shorts, Pat Benatar, Murphy’s Laws, and various cute and cuddly puppies and kittens, when there I saw a poster of this amazing castle. It stood in the middle of nowhere, rising majestically on a small peak as if floating in mid-air. It was fall in the picture and the tress were painted shades of yellow and orange and red with mist settling off in the valley beyond. It was a place I had imagined only in dreams. I bought that poster. It hung on my wall all those years as a young teenage girl dreaming of my prince charming and happy-ever-after.
I never made the connection between my fairy tale castle and Disney’s icon. In fact it wasn’t until I was perusing internet sites for places to stop on my quick run through Germany that I saw a picture and realized the famed Neuschwanstein was the castle of my young girl dreams. I was almost giddy last night with the thought of actually seeing this vision of my dreams in real life. I had always imagined it was deep in a dark forest in some strange land called Bavaria and virtually inaccessible to modern man. Little did I know it was one of Europe’s most popular attractions with over 6,000 visitors a day during the summer tourist season. If seen from above, it must look like a busy ant colony for all the Japanese tourists coming from all directions, determinedly trudging the thirty minute climb uphill, for the chance to photograph this legendary icon. I must look like the giant albino ant.
I decided I would dress up in honor of my fairy tale dreams in my orange dress with the wide skirt that billowed kinda like a ball room gown if I twirled fast enough. It seemed apropos, though I generally prefer comfies for ten hour train days like this one. I was up at 5:30am to partake in the rare luxury of a hair dryer, courtesy of my host, and to curl my hair (a vanity I continue both to indulge and be embarrassed by). I guess there is a little girl in me who still hopes to meet prince charming at the ball. It doesn’t hurt to look pretty – just in case. Karin, sweetheart that she was to get up at six am, fixed me breakfast and we chatted until it was time for me to dart to catch the 7am train.
It was cloudy in Salzburg, drizzling as we crossed the border of Germany, and pouring by the time we arrived in Munich. There was no sign for Fussen in the Munich station so I set off to find an information counter. I had to laugh at the information lady – she wasn’t rude particularly, she just wasn’t the least bit interested in giving one syllable of information more than was asked.
Me – “Hi, English?”
Her – Hmmph – “Little.”
Me – I need to go to Fussen.
“9:51” She says and looks at me blankly.
“It is not on the screens.”
She checks – “Yes, Fussen, 9:51”
Um, what is the destination? (as in the city that will show on the screen so I can get on the right train)
She says something unintelligible.
Um, what track?
31
Do I have to change trains?
Yes. …
I wait – nothing more
Um, where do I change trains?
She rolls her eyes and says something that sounds Italian
Excuse me?
“BUCHLO!!” She all but shrieks
Great, thanks…
I’m not going to even attempt asking other questions like do they have lockers or what platform is the connection.
The train is there when I reach the platform. Already chilled, I make the wise, practical decision that it is not a day for fairytale skirts and white beaded tank tops and so when the train pulls out of the station, I take a t-shirt and yoga pants into the bathroom to change. Now I know not to set anything on a watercloset floor in the train, so I prop my backpack carefully in the corner and set my clothes on top of it. These bathrooms always reek and are about the size of a coffin on end, but I manage to strip down and change without any items of clothing ever touching the floor. I glance in the mirror as I’m about to walk out to see a large brown stain across the shoulder of my shirt. I don’t even want to know. I take the shirt off, wash the stain, trying not to throw up, put the shirt back on and walk out. How exactly someone managed to get shit on the walls is beyond me but there it was – large brown streaks down the side of the wall. The day was turning out to be my typical fairy tale – significantly better in the imagination than in the reality.
While Disney may have based his inspiration on this castle, the castle has clearly based its business plan on Disney. The farthest you can get by taxi or city bus is to the little “town” just above the valley and below the castle. I use the term ‘town’ loosely since it consists basically of souvenir shops, high priced restaurants, and hotels – like any entrance to a Disney area. There you cue for tickets. I spied a counter for reserved tickets with narry a soul in line. Too bad I didn’t research beforehand and discover that for a small service charge you can buy tickets online and walk right in. It took about forty minutes to make it through the ticket lane, standing outside in the rain for most of the time.
It turns out there are two castles available for viewing – Hohenschwangau , Ludwig’s parents’ castle, and Newschwansteain, his dream castle. Admission is by guided tour only but is available in twenty odd languages. Ticket price for both castles 18 euro. Walking time to get to both castles? Over one hour. Time between tour of mom and dad’s spot and Ludwig’s? Two hours. Worried I might miss the last train out, I opted to do just the Disney castle. Waiting time for the next available tour? Three hours. Great. The day was not improving, though at least the smell emanating from my shirt had lessened. Hoping I could talk my way into an open spot on an earlier tour, I began the forty minute uphill hike.
It was heartwarming to see so many people out, braving the cold rainy day. Old couples, young families, lovers. I always wonder where the single men traveling alone are – why couldn’t I meet Ethan Hawke in Vienna or Cary Grant in Paris? But no such luck. I was the only solo wanderer trudging uphill in the rain. Most people were pretty enthusiastic for such a gloomy rainy day and I enjoyed listening to the symphony of different languages. German and Japanese making up the woodwinds and English filling in with strings.
Taking my time, I arrived as the 2:15 tour was about to begin. No chance of sneaking in – everything is automated with well-barricaded turnstiles. There wasn’t even a person to whom I could try to talk my way through. A couple of clues for future Neuschwanstein goers - don’t hang outside with the hundreds of people waiting for their tour time under the wall entrance. On the other side is a courtyard with plenty of room to mill around and lots of picture taking opportunities. Second clue, there is a ticket counter just for Newshcwanstein to the right when you enter the courtyard, with no line. If I had come straight here, I would have been down the hill and changed into dry clothes by the time my assigned tour had started. I had been outside in the rain for the better part of two hours, soaked up to my knees in sandals, socks, and yoga pants with narry a place to lean much less sit down. Imagine my thrill at discovering this unknown ticket counter in a room, albeit still cold, that was dry and had benches to sit down! I asked at the ticket counter if I could get on an earlier tour – no luck, all sold out. Fortunately with computer in tow, I always have work I can do. I found a spot and clipped away at my keyboard until my tour started.
The castle was impressive indeed. I always imagined it was barren stone inside like the medieval castles of old. In actuality the castle was only begun a little over a hundred years ago and never was completely finished. Even poor old Ludwig only lived there for seven weeks before his untimely death. Due it seems to his penchant for spending money to build incredible castles (Neuschwanstein was not the only one) and his lack of interest in political affairs, his cabinet conspired to have him declared insane and remove him from office. The following day he was found dead in the river along with the psychiatrist responsible for his care. Theories abound as to what exactly happened that stormy night though no one will ever know. The king had built his fairy tale castle as a private residence to escape the people whom he never found his comfort with. Instead just seven weeks after he moved in, it was opened to the public and has remained so ever since.
The castle is dedicated to Ludwig’s passion for the operas of Wagner. Themes from Wagner’s works run throughout the rooms. The Singers Hall is most impressive – designed solely for the purpose of presenting Wagner pieces for the king’s pleasure, it was never actually used as a performance hall until 1969. It must be stunning to take in a concert or performance in this luxurious room. The 2,000 pound chandelier in the Throne room is impressive enough to make up for the missing throne, and the artwork throughout the palace rivals much of the neo-classical art I have seen elsewhere. Swans decorate the ceilings, the doors, the floors, the walls, and the furniture. He was actually nicknamed The Swan King and though the citizens ridiculed him for his shy and fanciful ways, the country mourned his death deeply. The world would have some astounding works of art and architecture if he had not been undermined at the young age of 40. I guess his fairytale world was no more of a fairytale for him than my day visiting it. At least I have not been declared insane. Well… not officially anyway.
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