A Mystery to Myself and Others

So from the little town of Fussen at the foot of the Bavarian Alps, we took a bus to Neuschwanstein - which I am probably spelling incorrectly. Out in the countryside, overlooking a village on the plain and the mountains and a river with a waterfall is a castle, a fairy tale castle. I am told that the Disney´s sleeping beauty castle was modeled after this castle, Neuschwanstein.

Once upon a time, well in the 1800s, there was a Bavarian prince named Ludwig. Even as a child, he loved to build things. As he grew, his love of building did as well. He also grew in his appreciation of the arts, particularly the operas of Richard Wagner. If you are unfamiliar with Wagner, there is one thing to know. With his operas, the bigger and the grandioser the better. Ludwig was Wagner´s principal patron. Plans had been made for a larger than life opera house. Ludwig built a lot of castles, hardly living in any of them. One of the most visited is Neuschwanstein, which was designed by a set designer, not an architect. It has white towers that rise into the blue sky. The castle was only a third finished at the time of Ludwig´s death.

Ludwig has a couple of adjectives commonly affixed to his name - usually Mad or Crazy, which indeed he was. He had no sense of finance and kept dreaming up ridiculous ideas. A Ludwig quotation often quoted at the castle is, "I want to eternally remain a mystery to myself and others." I think his wish has been granted. He was declared insane and a few days later was found dead under mysterious circumstances. Along with his pyschiatrist, he drowned in a lake.

On the bus up the hill, we found ourselves in the midst of a throng of real Southern rednecks. I think it was their first time ever out of Tennessee. They were quite excited to find out I am from Saskatchewan because apparently someone from Saskatchewan has caught a record size buck. They were surprised at the notion of people backpacking Europe for months at a time and were disdainful at the amount of walking they had to do in Germany.

The bus dropped us off near a bridge offering a good view of the castle. A kind man in a Bavarian outfit - complete with Lederhosern - was taking pictures and posing for them. We befriended an American named Travis and a Canadian named Quang, whose English accent is affected by his Vietnamese heritage. We hiked further up the ridge for a few more pictures. I went further than Mer, but she did well considering her ankle. We all had our picture taken with the Bavarian before heading to the castle.

The inside of the castle was, well, crazy. The throne room had tons of exquisite murals, marble stairs, an intricate mosaic floor . . . all in the style of a Byzantine church. His bedroom was full of Gothic wood carvings. The top of his bed looked like a bizarre cathedral roof. It took 14 artisans 4 and a half years to complete the carvings in his bedroom. Ludwig also had a room designed to be an artificial cave. One moment you are in his sitting room with his plethora of swan motifs (he really loved that bird) and murals of Wagner operas. Then open the door and you are walking through a cave. It was so surreal. The castle had some modern conveniences including running water, a sewage system, and central heating. Once he was dead, the family stopped the building of all his castles because it was just too expensive . . . and ridiculous.

The four of us had lunch, bussed back to town and then hopped on the next train. We semi-befriended a kid travelling alone with a lot of hockey equipment. For some reason, he had his helmet and pants separate and then the rest of his stuff in a few different bags. It looked awkward. Mer helped him when we had to change trains. He looked almost exactly like Cam Carruthers, my cousin´s good friend. Everyone on the train was very helpful.

Our next train was late and we sat for a while, trying to ignore the advice of the tipsy yet elegant lady with the beer bottle in her purse. Soon we were on our train for Lindau and the Bodensee. But it is now lunchtime and I will have to write another day.