5 The Day of the Neuschwanstein!

Monday, July 4th, evoked many memories and emotions. It occurred to me that part of my feeling overwhelmed at leaving home to travel wasn't just that I was leaving a part of my heart--and, dear friends,  many things would remind me of you, and I would say to myself, "You need to remember to mention that when you get back home"--, it was that on this very weekend, my dad had many years ago taken his leave of this world to go on a much greater journey. This was a significant weekend for him in life: his first marriage on the 4th, his second on the 2nd (I think), and his death on July 1st. Death anniversaries tend to creep up on me and make me wonder why I feel sad or why other emotional events have greater impact, so when I realized this, it was easier to be intentional to do things that honor his memory and assuage some of that heartsickness. In fact, the main reason for going to see Neuschwanstein was that he seemed to have an affinity for it; I remember him talking about King Ludwig II and his story.

So now we were really going! We were to meet at the same tour company in the train station, so we found a small café upstairs and had our Americano and a bagel. When we were checked in at the assigned location, we were met by a British chap who looked at first like one of the tourists; he was gregarious and humorous and unpretentious, but when it was time to get going, he got us to the train and had us stake out our territory. He told us that, when any non-tour people came by looking interested in a seat, we should smile and say, "Good morning." We were a bit baffled by this, but when we did as he instructed, they looked uncomfortable and almost unanimously moved to another section of the train. It was amusing and gave us a greater chuckle every time it happened, but what it also did was unify the group and gave us a commonality before we even left the station.

Jeff was the tour guide's name, and as many people know, the guide usually holds up a flag or umbrella or some item to keep the group together; Jeff appealed to baser instincts and held up a tube of Smarties, the European version of M & Ms, which he doled out when people answered questions correctly and the like. He was an expat from Britain of 17 years or so, when he came over because "the money was better here."

The train ride gave an opportunity for Jeff to give some background to Ludwig's motivation for building the castle and how it was decorated, with a mind to his love for Wagner's operas. But all I could think about was the ethereal positioning of white turrets glistening in the sun high on a mountainside I had seen in many a photo. We were soon to find its context.

We jumped from the train to a shuttle bus and fairly quickly arrived at a cul-de-sac with a restroom/gift shop and, as Jeff lovingly named it, "Michael's House of Cholesterol", a short order grill where we could purchase some form of wurst and fries. I did get a hot dog, which I think is the best one I have ever had--served on a hamburger bun. Funny. I cut it in half, added some mustard, and shared it with Andy as we waited for another shuttle bus to take us slackers who had opted to NOT walk up the mountain.

It was here that reality set in: Neuschwanstein was in fact not announcing itself floating on a gleaming cloud; my first glimpse of the castle caught me by surprise as I looked all up and around and found it quietly hovering in the shadow of the mountain, barely visible.

The inobtrusive castle sits just below the center
of the photo.

The shuttle deposited us above the castle at a beautiful bridge--which was under repair, so we couldn't go that way--so we walked down the wide paved path through the woods toward the castle. Here we got our first real view of the valley, I imagine a deciding factor in the choice of building site.

We were greeted by a man playing the hurdy-gurdy, an intriguing instrument.

We were not in a hurry, so we listened a while and then I asked him how it worked; he, nothing loath to talk about his object of affection, showed me in great detail the mechanism and principle of operation. It is actually a fascinating combination--a stringed instrument with keys; it has a neck like a violin (can't remember if it is fretted or not), and it has a rotary bow that is turned with a crank. The keys line up with various places on the neck to produce the different pitches. It used to be a much larger, two-person instrument that was actually used in churches before the current configuration of organ was invented. I was so excited at his invitation to turn the crank while he sang a verse and chorus or two of "Cockles and Mussels"--wow, I got to (sort of) play a hurdy-gurdy! Thinking of Laurie Nation at this moment for some reason...lol, I know you would love it!



We had tickets for 14:05, and you HAD to be there at exactly the right time because everything is very precise in Germany.

 

 

While we waited, we had the chance to take LOTS of pictures, which is good because we were not permitted to take any inside the castle. They never said why, but once inside, I could just feel that it wouldn't have been appropriate, for some reason. As we walked up the two sets of 63 stairs each (it was good we took the shuttle up the mountain!) and through the corridors into the various rooms, a heavy sadness descended on me as it became clear that this entire endeavor was to find fulfillment in grandeur, in beauty. It wasn't just a stone building; it was the cry of a soul in search of unattainable longings. The murals depicting scenes from Wagner's operas, the rich woods, the chapel with its walls that aureate like St. Mark's Basilica in Venice--all this lavish attempt to recreate the grandness of the great Bavarian kings and not even finished before his untimely death.


The very name, Neu-schwan-stein, speaks to his love of the graceful swans that ornament many of the rooms; Ludwig's eccentricities were certainly not well understood, but his kindness to his servants was clear in his generous accommodations (much nicer than our hotel room!) and other appointments to the lower quarters. What a beautiful copper kitchen!

multiply this by at least two more walls of copper

We had time for a snack in the little gift shop/restaurant just prior to the exit; I chose a slice of Schwarzwalder kirschtorte in honor of my dad--LOTS of heavy whipped cream, which I managed to avoid for the most part.

I did pick up a couple souvenirs there--thinking of Linda and music and Terry and puzzles!


We were considering taking the horse-drawn carriage down the mountain,

These beautiful guys were sweating and fighting off an annoying horsefly/hornet buzzing around their heads.

but there was a line and after a few minutes of waiting we realized that because of the shopping and snack we were now on a rather tight schedule; so Andy said, "Let's walk!" He was surprised by the exertion of downhill walking on his quads, and we did find a staircase that helped to shorten the descent...well, until we took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in some rather nice residential section with NO signage for directionally challenged tourists. Our time was getting close, and either his blood sugar or his muscles were making him walk more and more slowly; eventually I just prayed "God help me!" and He showed me the way. I ran ahead to the main street, took a left, and there were the other, wiser, tour members and Jeff. I ran up to him and told him that Andy was coming but he was having blood sugar issues; he was sympathetic and not too concerned about the time, but Andy pulled up at the last minute and we were able to get away quickly--we had a train to catch!




Two trains, in fact--there was a switch we had to make about halfway back. But it was great because Jeff ended up sitting with our little subgroup of the seats facing each other, and we got to ask him questions, like how did they actually get all that stone up the mountain to build the castle? (It was a kind of pulley system...yay physics!) He added to the air of sadness when he described the mysterious circumstances of Ludwig's death and his lonely life leading up to it.

Jeff kept an eye on his phone; apparently he was going to babysit his godchild that week and was keeping in touch. What a difference a tour guide makes; the day before, the tour guide was fine, but Jeff was like a friend who wanted to share with you something that he loved and wanted you to get the most out of it too.  I hope his family visit went well.

We arrived back at Hauptbahnhof and then quickly to our room, recovered, and then wend out for dinner. I had seen "The Block House" the day before on our walking/running tour; they had an outdoor seating area, which Andy wanted, so we went there, also because it was close by.

Andy ordered his obligatory weissbier and I had some sparkling apple juice--for dinner we had onion soup, Hereford ribeye (Andy)/turkey medallions (me), and cheesecake. It was interesting that they proudly presented their baked potatoes with house-made sour cream--a little grainy but actually not bad! It was a pleasant dinner, even when three clearly inebriated gentlemen were walked by, happily loud in general and singing badly. They moved on quickly. We toasted the USA on its birthday.


One thing about Germany--the coffee is good EVERYWHERE.