November 17, 2015
Salzburg is beautiful in its own unique way. Until you get to the city center, near the Mirabellz palace grounds, you don't even see the Alps- but they catch your eye at once when you drive on the city borders. The mountains poke out above the hills, so suddenly and sharply they look alien at first (or at least in the eyes of someone who is used to seeing a range of flowing, rounded Rockies). The "Fortress Of Salt" (the literal meaning of the city which was founded on money from the salt trade) is guarded by a distinct and intimidating stone fortress, visible from practically every corner of the city. Across the Salzach River is a quaint old town, starting with an old church, lined with cobblestone and peppered with cafes and gift shops. Although there is clearly a "rich Salzburg" and (what I'll call a) "less rich Salzburg," clearly distinct by graffiti and a Arab homeless population, the city's domes churches and old architecture make up for the uncomfortable portions.
But let's get to the point. I came here for one thing and one thing only: to see the city that is dreamed of seeing ever since I began watching the Sound of Music. And ah, what a tour! (Disclaimer: if you haven't seen the movie the commentary here will be absolutely boring to you) Yes, the tour bus was cheesy (complete with the side of the bus painted with Julie Andrews and the children), and yes they played the soundtrack whenever the sarcastic tour guide wasn't speaking...but so worth it!
The bus was filled with 25 Americans, Brazilians, Argentinians, and British tourists, who all could clearly sing classic songs, albeit with their own accents. After some quick views of the Nonnberg Abby (fun fact: the Abby did not allow Hollywood producers to shoot anywhere beyond the iron front doors), the tour began at the lake where the children fall off of their canoe during the Do-Re-Mi both scene. It was explained that the producers used two separate homes to shoot the Von Trapp house - one for the views of the lake and the beautiful entrance way, and one for the yellow backdrop with the balcony where the adults drink pink lemonade. The scenes were apparently three kilometers from each other, and while there are scenes (such as after the children fall off the canoe) where it looks like the Captain and Maria are speaking directly to each other, they are actually being filmed a few miles away. Rather quickly I find that our guide has a knack for shattering my rose-colored lenses giving my accompaniment and I unnecessary details regarding most of the movie's production. Examples? Scenes like the grand ballroom, the graveyard where the family hides from Nazis, the interior portions of the 16 going on 17 gazebo, and the interior rooms of the house were apparently just sets, built in sunny LA, even though they were inspired by Salzburg. Slightly crushing to find out, but there's still a charm to it, nonetheless.
We continued to see the actual "exterior" gazebo used for the filming of the movie - the glass structure which was built just for the movie's production in 1964. The story goes that when filming was complete the producers intended to tear down the gazebo, though the owners of the home they shot the outdoor scenes asked to keep it. For a while the owners were happy to let a few guests in to see the romantic spot...until a few tens of tourists turned into a few hundreds over the years. They began denying entry to tourists, until people who had determinedly traveled across the world to see the gazebo would break into the property in the middle of the night (usually while intoxicated) and sing (slur) "I am 16 going on 17!" at the top of their lungs. Evidently, the owners did not appreciate the rude awakenings at 3:00 a.m. The gazebo was then moved to a public parked and locked- which is where we got to view the famed structure. Today it stands in the corner of a tree-lined park, where Christmas markets were being set up when we arrived.
Next part of the trip took us up the mountains for about an hour. As soon as you drive out into the countryside, the mountains appear, surrounding green farming pastures. Hearing the "Hills are Alive" while you're driving through the alps, looking out into the countryside? Perfect. Absolutely perfect. The churches, and blue lakes every turn, and the pointed mountains creating valleys and peaks...it's so apparently how the directors decided on "the Hills are Alive" as the opening piece.
After a scenic stop, the tour continued to the Basilica in Mondsee- a small, mountain town, and the setting for the wedding of Maria and the captain. As you walk down the aisle you see that the Basillica is lined with oil paintings of Jesus with golden angels and figurines gracefully flanking each image, and stained glass reaching the tops of the vaulted ceilings. It's stunning, until you reach the very front. The main alter, also lined in gold and Angels, has a small glass window in which lies a human skeleton. Spotting it at first was enough to drive s shudder through my spine. It's just eerie, even if it is a dead Saint! (Thank you producers for NOT showing that in the romantic wedding scene!). Almost as an apology for the shock, the guide showed us a video of Leisel (now older) discussing what shooting was like as we traveled back into the city, where she describes cute and sentimental things about the shooting, like how her first kiss was the one with Rolfe in the gazebo.
The tour concluded in the Mirabellz place gardens, where many of the scenes from the Do Re Mi song were shot.The palace grounds open to a large Pegasus fountain, and are surrounded by well manicures lawns with curling rows of purple flowers. One set of stairs with stone lions leads to an odd garden with little stone statues of gnomes (not unlike the collection of the witch in the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe), while another set, framed by unicorns leads further into the palace. Stone figures, similar to Roman heroes stand guard around the lawns while an archway made of vines (also in the song) stretches across the length of the palace. It's altogether beautiful. Maria was actually from Salzburg, and seeing her city makes me wonder how heartbreaking it must have been to leave. War can even change such beautiful places into living hells.
Which brings me to another rose-shattering fact from the tour: them movie, while artistic and colorful, doesn't match Maria Von Trapp precisely. Maria was actually an orphan, as the movie depicts, and was born on a train of all places. Austria at the time sent all orphans to the monasteries as a kind of orphanage, and children were cares for by the nuns. Maria was one of these children, and did live in the largest, most powerful Abby in Salzburg, Nonnberg , though she intended to be a teacher rather than a nun at the time. Meanwhile, Captain Von Trapp, who was indeed a naval hero of the Austrian navy, and one of the first people to man submarines, was left a widower when his first wife passed away. He was left with seven children , one of whom was a sickly child, unable to play and attend school with her brothers and sisters. The captain implored Mother Superior of the Abby to send someone to home school his child, and, Maria, being a motherless girl herself, was sent to the Von Trapp home. While they may not have been in love necessarily, captain Von Trapp proposed to Maria on the insistence of his children who loved the new teacher. Malaria was lost though- in six months she had intended to take her oath of celibacy and pledge herself to the church. mother Superior, like in the movie, told her that this may be her destiny, and Maria gave in and married the captain, who was somewhat older than her. The family was happy for a few years, and Maria and the captain had two more children bringing the head count to nine, until the bank collapsed. Overnight the family was bankrupt. To support themselves, Maria and the captain began renting rooms out in their spacious mansion. "Uncle max" from the movie was actually just a guest who began to teach the children to play the piano and sing. Later, a traveling opera singer staying at the inn encouraged the children to sing in festivals around Austria. was a guest. He taught them to sing. An opera singer discovered the family and persuaded them in the festivals. For a while the Con Trapp family singing show supported the family. But the captain knew that war was around the corner. Although hitter had not yet invaded Austria, it was clear that those were his intentions. Rather than wait out an impeding war with hungry mouths to feed, the family decided to take up a job that had been offered to them in the US. Rather than climb mountains, they took a train first to Italy, then to Switzerland and finally the US. The family Settled and continues to live in Vermont. Earlier on, the family attempted to farm, bu the farm was destroyed the first winter and Maria rebuilt their home from the ground up. The Captain died from lung cancer from the untested submarines fairly early on, but not before having one more child with Maria in the US.
The tour guide also shared some facts about the country to her attentive bus when she wasn't discussing the Sound of Music. Apparently, being a socialist nation, Austrians who make 12,000€ or less are required to pay about 19% tax, of which 17.6% is solely for social causes. If you make more than 12,000€, that rate increases to 33%, 42%, and up to 50% by increments, depending on your income bracket. Because of their strict scrutiny of monarchies, it is actually illegal to use a family name (think: something that implies totally) in Austria, and you can be sued for introducing yourself by the family name. But it's not all bad. Because the government owns and operates all the public service sectors, they own current government buildings-including the old Bavarian palaces. Palaces are used today as school, and better yet, nursing homes. Evidently the elderly of Austria can't wait to check themselves into nursing home palaces...
Austria, she continued, is the 16th wealthiest nation in the world and the nation with the riches citizens per capita. Of course, when Porche is owned and operated by Austria, as well as Red Bull, with their billions of dollars, a rich per capita for a comparatively scarcely populated nation isn't a big deal. Salzburg in particular is not only a smaller town in the country, but one with a vastly low crime rate. Instances of purse snatchings are reportered in the newspaper due to their rarity. But it's reasonable- the lake towns of the mountains near Salzburg are the "Aspens" of Austria, where the rich have purchased summer homes since the times of the monarchy. Next year, 2016, Austria will be celebrating 200 years of being a part of Austria rather than Bavaria.
Of course, I did see the Salzburg Mozart museum as well, where the composer was born. I felt as if it would be an insult to the city not to, though...it wasn't terribly exciting to me. The man was a genius, but as someone who has never played the piano and never really been into classical music (can you be "into" it?) it wasn't as moving as the Sound of Music tour. Among the highlights of the little museum were by far seeing his first piano, and his handwritten compositions. And his wig. Because that was quite odd to look at.
I strolled through Old Town Salzburg after the museum, where like Heidleberg, the cobblestone streets seem to clash and yet perfectly match the modern american and European brands they house. After some aimless wandering i stopped at a small cafe to try the homemade cheese strudel sitting in the display window. As appetizing as it looks from the outside, it's nothing like my toaster strudels. Strudels are clearly not meant to be sweet, and they are heavy and difficult to eat. This is one competition where consumer america's silly productions may just win!
A lovely day, to say the least, and well worth the long train ride to get here last night. Next time though (if there is a next time) I need to come here with someone else - preferably another sound of music fan!
Salzburg is beautiful in its own unique way. Until you get to the city center, near the Mirabellz palace grounds, you don't even see the Alps- but they catch your eye at once when you drive on the city borders. The mountains poke out above the hills, so suddenly and sharply they look alien at first (or at least in the eyes of someone who is used to seeing a range of flowing, rounded Rockies). The "Fortress Of Salt" (the literal meaning of the city which was founded on money from the salt trade) is guarded by a distinct and intimidating stone fortress, visible from practically every corner of the city. Across the Salzach River is a quaint old town, starting with an old church, lined with cobblestone and peppered with cafes and gift shops. Although there is clearly a "rich Salzburg" and (what I'll call a) "less rich Salzburg," clearly distinct by graffiti and a Arab homeless population, the city's domes churches and old architecture make up for the uncomfortable portions.
But let's get to the point. I came here for one thing and one thing only: to see the city that is dreamed of seeing ever since I began watching the Sound of Music. And ah, what a tour! (Disclaimer: if you haven't seen the movie the commentary here will be absolutely boring to you) Yes, the tour bus was cheesy (complete with the side of the bus painted with Julie Andrews and the children), and yes they played the soundtrack whenever the sarcastic tour guide wasn't speaking...but so worth it!
The bus was filled with 25 Americans, Brazilians, Argentinians, and British tourists, who all could clearly sing classic songs, albeit with their own accents. After some quick views of the Nonnberg Abby (fun fact: the Abby did not allow Hollywood producers to shoot anywhere beyond the iron front doors), the tour began at the lake where the children fall off of their canoe during the Do-Re-Mi both scene. It was explained that the producers used two separate homes to shoot the Von Trapp house - one for the views of the lake and the beautiful entrance way, and one for the yellow backdrop with the balcony where the adults drink pink lemonade. The scenes were apparently three kilometers from each other, and while there are scenes (such as after the children fall off the canoe) where it looks like the Captain and Maria are speaking directly to each other, they are actually being filmed a few miles away. Rather quickly I find that our guide has a knack for shattering my rose-colored lenses giving my accompaniment and I unnecessary details regarding most of the movie's production. Examples? Scenes like the grand ballroom, the graveyard where the family hides from Nazis, the interior portions of the 16 going on 17 gazebo, and the interior rooms of the house were apparently just sets, built in sunny LA, even though they were inspired by Salzburg. Slightly crushing to find out, but there's still a charm to it, nonetheless.
We continued to see the actual "exterior" gazebo used for the filming of the movie - the glass structure which was built just for the movie's production in 1964. The story goes that when filming was complete the producers intended to tear down the gazebo, though the owners of the home they shot the outdoor scenes asked to keep it. For a while the owners were happy to let a few guests in to see the romantic spot...until a few tens of tourists turned into a few hundreds over the years. They began denying entry to tourists, until people who had determinedly traveled across the world to see the gazebo would break into the property in the middle of the night (usually while intoxicated) and sing (slur) "I am 16 going on 17!" at the top of their lungs. Evidently, the owners did not appreciate the rude awakenings at 3:00 a.m. The gazebo was then moved to a public parked and locked- which is where we got to view the famed structure. Today it stands in the corner of a tree-lined park, where Christmas markets were being set up when we arrived.
Next part of the trip took us up the mountains for about an hour. As soon as you drive out into the countryside, the mountains appear, surrounding green farming pastures. Hearing the "Hills are Alive" while you're driving through the alps, looking out into the countryside? Perfect. Absolutely perfect. The churches, and blue lakes every turn, and the pointed mountains creating valleys and peaks...it's so apparently how the directors decided on "the Hills are Alive" as the opening piece.
After a scenic stop, the tour continued to the Basilica in Mondsee- a small, mountain town, and the setting for the wedding of Maria and the captain. As you walk down the aisle you see that the Basillica is lined with oil paintings of Jesus with golden angels and figurines gracefully flanking each image, and stained glass reaching the tops of the vaulted ceilings. It's stunning, until you reach the very front. The main alter, also lined in gold and Angels, has a small glass window in which lies a human skeleton. Spotting it at first was enough to drive s shudder through my spine. It's just eerie, even if it is a dead Saint! (Thank you producers for NOT showing that in the romantic wedding scene!). Almost as an apology for the shock, the guide showed us a video of Leisel (now older) discussing what shooting was like as we traveled back into the city, where she describes cute and sentimental things about the shooting, like how her first kiss was the one with Rolfe in the gazebo.
The tour concluded in the Mirabellz place gardens, where many of the scenes from the Do Re Mi song were shot.The palace grounds open to a large Pegasus fountain, and are surrounded by well manicures lawns with curling rows of purple flowers. One set of stairs with stone lions leads to an odd garden with little stone statues of gnomes (not unlike the collection of the witch in the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe), while another set, framed by unicorns leads further into the palace. Stone figures, similar to Roman heroes stand guard around the lawns while an archway made of vines (also in the song) stretches across the length of the palace. It's altogether beautiful. Maria was actually from Salzburg, and seeing her city makes me wonder how heartbreaking it must have been to leave. War can even change such beautiful places into living hells.
Which brings me to another rose-shattering fact from the tour: them movie, while artistic and colorful, doesn't match Maria Von Trapp precisely. Maria was actually an orphan, as the movie depicts, and was born on a train of all places. Austria at the time sent all orphans to the monasteries as a kind of orphanage, and children were cares for by the nuns. Maria was one of these children, and did live in the largest, most powerful Abby in Salzburg, Nonnberg , though she intended to be a teacher rather than a nun at the time. Meanwhile, Captain Von Trapp, who was indeed a naval hero of the Austrian navy, and one of the first people to man submarines, was left a widower when his first wife passed away. He was left with seven children , one of whom was a sickly child, unable to play and attend school with her brothers and sisters. The captain implored Mother Superior of the Abby to send someone to home school his child, and, Maria, being a motherless girl herself, was sent to the Von Trapp home. While they may not have been in love necessarily, captain Von Trapp proposed to Maria on the insistence of his children who loved the new teacher. Malaria was lost though- in six months she had intended to take her oath of celibacy and pledge herself to the church. mother Superior, like in the movie, told her that this may be her destiny, and Maria gave in and married the captain, who was somewhat older than her. The family was happy for a few years, and Maria and the captain had two more children bringing the head count to nine, until the bank collapsed. Overnight the family was bankrupt. To support themselves, Maria and the captain began renting rooms out in their spacious mansion. "Uncle max" from the movie was actually just a guest who began to teach the children to play the piano and sing. Later, a traveling opera singer staying at the inn encouraged the children to sing in festivals around Austria. was a guest. He taught them to sing. An opera singer discovered the family and persuaded them in the festivals. For a while the Con Trapp family singing show supported the family. But the captain knew that war was around the corner. Although hitter had not yet invaded Austria, it was clear that those were his intentions. Rather than wait out an impeding war with hungry mouths to feed, the family decided to take up a job that had been offered to them in the US. Rather than climb mountains, they took a train first to Italy, then to Switzerland and finally the US. The family Settled and continues to live in Vermont. Earlier on, the family attempted to farm, bu the farm was destroyed the first winter and Maria rebuilt their home from the ground up. The Captain died from lung cancer from the untested submarines fairly early on, but not before having one more child with Maria in the US.
The tour guide also shared some facts about the country to her attentive bus when she wasn't discussing the Sound of Music. Apparently, being a socialist nation, Austrians who make 12,000€ or less are required to pay about 19% tax, of which 17.6% is solely for social causes. If you make more than 12,000€, that rate increases to 33%, 42%, and up to 50% by increments, depending on your income bracket. Because of their strict scrutiny of monarchies, it is actually illegal to use a family name (think: something that implies totally) in Austria, and you can be sued for introducing yourself by the family name. But it's not all bad. Because the government owns and operates all the public service sectors, they own current government buildings-including the old Bavarian palaces. Palaces are used today as school, and better yet, nursing homes. Evidently the elderly of Austria can't wait to check themselves into nursing home palaces...
Austria, she continued, is the 16th wealthiest nation in the world and the nation with the riches citizens per capita. Of course, when Porche is owned and operated by Austria, as well as Red Bull, with their billions of dollars, a rich per capita for a comparatively scarcely populated nation isn't a big deal. Salzburg in particular is not only a smaller town in the country, but one with a vastly low crime rate. Instances of purse snatchings are reportered in the newspaper due to their rarity. But it's reasonable- the lake towns of the mountains near Salzburg are the "Aspens" of Austria, where the rich have purchased summer homes since the times of the monarchy. Next year, 2016, Austria will be celebrating 200 years of being a part of Austria rather than Bavaria.
Of course, I did see the Salzburg Mozart museum as well, where the composer was born. I felt as if it would be an insult to the city not to, though...it wasn't terribly exciting to me. The man was a genius, but as someone who has never played the piano and never really been into classical music (can you be "into" it?) it wasn't as moving as the Sound of Music tour. Among the highlights of the little museum were by far seeing his first piano, and his handwritten compositions. And his wig. Because that was quite odd to look at.
I strolled through Old Town Salzburg after the museum, where like Heidleberg, the cobblestone streets seem to clash and yet perfectly match the modern american and European brands they house. After some aimless wandering i stopped at a small cafe to try the homemade cheese strudel sitting in the display window. As appetizing as it looks from the outside, it's nothing like my toaster strudels. Strudels are clearly not meant to be sweet, and they are heavy and difficult to eat. This is one competition where consumer america's silly productions may just win!
A lovely day, to say the least, and well worth the long train ride to get here last night. Next time though (if there is a next time) I need to come here with someone else - preferably another sound of music fan!
November 18, 2015
What. A. Journey. Today has been filled with all kinds of stress, magic insights into life. The seven hour train ride and series of fiasco itself deserves a posting alone, so I'm splitting today into part I and part II of the day. Bear with the absurdly long post!
Part I: the Journey
6:00 a.m. I wake up to a notification on my phone from the German Banhof system alerting me that the borders between Germany and Austria are now closed. I'm not lost on the irony of being told the borders are closed in Salzburg - isn't that exactly what made the Von Trapps climb over the Alps in the movie? But practicality kicks in fairly quickly and I skim the news on my phone. After 700,000 Syrian refugees crossed the border into Germany from Austria, Angela Merkle issued a harsh border control, closing off Germany from it's two southern neighbors. Borders are closed indefinitely, but as long as proper documentation is shown, a citizen of EU or those with valid documentation should be able to visit. On impulse I check for my American passport. Here I am, alone in Austria, with Germany limited to useless words like "banhof" (train station) "ausgang" (exit) and "strudel" (self explanatory), and most importantly: brown skin. But at least I have my savior, stamped with a gold, bald eagle to help.
I arrive at the train station, well too early for my train to ask how to get back into Germany, and am instructed by the callous gentleman at the booth to catch a local Austrian train, disembark from the train in the final stop of Germany, and catch my previously scheduled ICE train a half an hour later. So, heavy bag on shoulder, I set off on the local train, along with tens of blond haired, blue eyed school children, pressing my bag to my body as kids pile up, laughing and complaining. The train slowly empties at each stop, and by the next to final stop, I'm left on the train, anxious, with just one other man a compartment away to accompany me.
Freilassing. The final Austrian stop and the first German stop. At this point I'm cautiously wondering why my passport hasn't been check, but as the doors open, my curiosity is flooded with another emotion. Absolute shock. Hundred upon hundred of Syrian refugees fill the platform, arranged in winding lines as if they are about to enter a theme park. I immediately notice a majority of the crowd is younger men, though I see a few colorful hijabs stand out in the lines, and a few children. It's cold by now, and I feel miserable seeing their thin coats. German police holding large guns and bullet proof vests are heading the refugees through the lines, having them hold a sign in Arabic against them as they have their picture taken against a brick wall. After a bright flash they are shepherded into a larger gray tent, where I assume they are given some sort of screening or medical test. It's a startling sight to see in person, after watching the same on the news week after week.
I collect my bearings and head into the station, in front of the lines of refugees. People who see me begin to yell to me in Arabic, assuming that I must also be Arab. I manage a small smile at the women in line, ignore making eye contact with the men - an automatic reflex I've taken to from South Asian travels - and march into a warm booth. I'm now confused why not a single person has not checked my passport, while lines of others stand waiting in the cold to take the very same train I am embarking on. A few minutes later, I'm on my ICE train, leaving my mind heaving with seeing the refugees. For all the years I've dedicated myself to international affairs, for all my work in human rights...I'd never even seen a refugee until today.
The fun doesn't end there, of course. After a few hours of travel, I'm stranded in Munich, arguing with the information booth, and finding that people in Munich certainly don't speak English very well. After an hour layover in the large, crowded stop, I lug my bag over to a platform, finally finding a younger woman who can speak for directions.
Part II: the castles of Füssen
I first stopped at the Hohenschwangau Castle, after about an half and a hour hike through a fairly well kept path from the Main Street in the village. The castle stood as a summer home for King Ludwig, who chanced upon the building, quite dilapidated structure, on an excursion. Seeing its pristine location, the kind decided to renovate the entire Bavarian castle in the early 1800s, and furnish it for him, his wife and two sons.
I'm not going to lie. The first thought I had entering the palace was "wow. This guy really likes swans..." Swans are everywhere in the castle - door handles, in paintings, elaborately carved into banisters and hanging as brass lamps. The reverence of the swans, according to the tour guide was to honor the family animal, and pay homage to the legend of the Swan Knight - a story of a knight who saves a damsel in distress and marries her under the condition that she never ask his name (if she says his name he transforms back into a swan, the story goes). The story, an opera also happens to be the reason wedding matches are played in Christian weddings today. And interesting tidbit that the guide played for us with the original German verses.
They didn't allow visitors to take any pictures of the interior - possibly because of the damage it would do to the tens of detailed murals and paintings throughout the castle. The entire structure is a dedication to art, though, and looks more like an art museum than a home if not for the dining tables and beds throughout. The first floor, the queen's quarters are painted with detailed images of the ladies in waiting, maids, and old Bavarian princesses and queens. Her bedroom alone stands apart, with long flowing curtains, Turkish lamps, and embroidered silks. The king, on a visit to Istanbul was showered with gifts from the king, and brought them all back to Füssen for his wife, who admired the forgein goods. The room starkly contrasts the rest of the romantic styles paintings of European faces and stories, but adds so much more character to the living quarters.
A steep curving staircase leads to the second floor, where the Kings quarters were rebuilt. Similar to the queen's floor, the king's floor is furnished with elaborate paintings of Knights in armor and quests from their ancestors. The Kings room (thigh somewhat awkward) is painted elaborately with murals of naked women, and even has a hidden staircase to his wife's chambers. But more interestingly, the king was a fan of the night sky. The entire ceiling of his bedroom is painted with little stars and celestial objects that could be lit by servants through the top floor of the castle. His floor overlooks the neighboring lake, and each iron clad window opens to magnificent views of pastures and mountains.
The next part of the tour led me to my real dream: the Neuschwanstein castle. Although it was a difficult journey, seeing the castle in the mountains from even the train caught my breath. It truly is a fairy tale come to life...
After a steep hike of about an hour one way up (though you could also take a horse carriage to the top), you reach THE castle. While the first castle elicits interest from viewers, the second? It's magical! The drawbridge-like entrance leads into a grand courtyard, surrounded by tall pillars, with the seal of the kingdom printed above the heavy set wooden doors. (And of course, there were women who took off their shoes and pretended to run down the staircases as modern day Cinderellas) While the outside is beautiful, the interior is incredible. The castle is drenched in gold, from the ceilings to the mosaic tiles floors. Like his fathers castle, the king had paintings commissioned in the building, though they focus more on legends and fairytales and depict Knights slaying dragons, beautiful princesses and castles on far away mountains. The king was so involved in legends that he created a room solely dedicated to singers and plays, where the entire back wall is painted with an elaborate scene of a forest (what they refer to as the sacred forest where the holy grail is said to lay. The painting is out of place in a way, but not more so than the fake cave the king had built in one of the hallways. Crossing the singing room to the Kings study feels like wandering through an entirely different climate.
The throne room of the castle was never used, and the throne was never installed, but it's still one of the most interesting rooms. The king, feeling that royalty had a divine right to rule created a throne room more similar to a church. A large domed Ceiling arches over a small stage where the throne was to sit, and is painted with images of Christian saints, apostles, and finally, overlooking the entire room, Jesus. A 2,000 pound brass chandelier sinks from the celing, covered in colorful Bavarian semi precious stones. A large mosaic containing thousand of tiny pieces is arranged as birds and flowers on the floor, and the room is ornately decked with carved wooden decorations and brightly reflecting gold. It is, truly, a throne room that you imagine monarchy ruling from.
The castle isn't complete though (and the king only spent 172 days in his dream castle before passing away). Construction was halted immediately after the death of the king and Of the 80 rooms that were meant to be completed, only 15 rooms are done. Imagine how incredibly a complete castle would have been, when only 15 rooms and the spiraled, stone towers could inspire Disney to build an entire fairytale land based on this one Kings vision!
A stone balcony near the exit allows you to stand (and let's be honest) imagine what life would have been like as a princess or queen. The castle, being so far up the mountain gives you incredible views of the southern alps of Germany, and a mountain lake and the H castle add to the fantastical scene. As I was leaving the castle the sun was setting across the mountains casting this beautiful color across the sky. And just to make it even more perfect, I glimpsed a crescent moon rising above one of the towers, as I began my hike down. After reading so many fairytales in my life, I finally feel like I feel like I've experienced at least a small piece of the stories.
I have otherwise not spent much time in Füssen, which seems to just be a little mountain town that happens to hold one a sightseeing destination. The town seems to have more hotels and cafes than any other I have seen, but after hiking a few hours with about 15 pounds of my belongings on my back, I was content spending the evening in my hotel room rather than another old town.
What. A. Journey. Today has been filled with all kinds of stress, magic insights into life. The seven hour train ride and series of fiasco itself deserves a posting alone, so I'm splitting today into part I and part II of the day. Bear with the absurdly long post!
Part I: the Journey
6:00 a.m. I wake up to a notification on my phone from the German Banhof system alerting me that the borders between Germany and Austria are now closed. I'm not lost on the irony of being told the borders are closed in Salzburg - isn't that exactly what made the Von Trapps climb over the Alps in the movie? But practicality kicks in fairly quickly and I skim the news on my phone. After 700,000 Syrian refugees crossed the border into Germany from Austria, Angela Merkle issued a harsh border control, closing off Germany from it's two southern neighbors. Borders are closed indefinitely, but as long as proper documentation is shown, a citizen of EU or those with valid documentation should be able to visit. On impulse I check for my American passport. Here I am, alone in Austria, with Germany limited to useless words like "banhof" (train station) "ausgang" (exit) and "strudel" (self explanatory), and most importantly: brown skin. But at least I have my savior, stamped with a gold, bald eagle to help.
I arrive at the train station, well too early for my train to ask how to get back into Germany, and am instructed by the callous gentleman at the booth to catch a local Austrian train, disembark from the train in the final stop of Germany, and catch my previously scheduled ICE train a half an hour later. So, heavy bag on shoulder, I set off on the local train, along with tens of blond haired, blue eyed school children, pressing my bag to my body as kids pile up, laughing and complaining. The train slowly empties at each stop, and by the next to final stop, I'm left on the train, anxious, with just one other man a compartment away to accompany me.
Freilassing. The final Austrian stop and the first German stop. At this point I'm cautiously wondering why my passport hasn't been check, but as the doors open, my curiosity is flooded with another emotion. Absolute shock. Hundred upon hundred of Syrian refugees fill the platform, arranged in winding lines as if they are about to enter a theme park. I immediately notice a majority of the crowd is younger men, though I see a few colorful hijabs stand out in the lines, and a few children. It's cold by now, and I feel miserable seeing their thin coats. German police holding large guns and bullet proof vests are heading the refugees through the lines, having them hold a sign in Arabic against them as they have their picture taken against a brick wall. After a bright flash they are shepherded into a larger gray tent, where I assume they are given some sort of screening or medical test. It's a startling sight to see in person, after watching the same on the news week after week.
I collect my bearings and head into the station, in front of the lines of refugees. People who see me begin to yell to me in Arabic, assuming that I must also be Arab. I manage a small smile at the women in line, ignore making eye contact with the men - an automatic reflex I've taken to from South Asian travels - and march into a warm booth. I'm now confused why not a single person has not checked my passport, while lines of others stand waiting in the cold to take the very same train I am embarking on. A few minutes later, I'm on my ICE train, leaving my mind heaving with seeing the refugees. For all the years I've dedicated myself to international affairs, for all my work in human rights...I'd never even seen a refugee until today.
The fun doesn't end there, of course. After a few hours of travel, I'm stranded in Munich, arguing with the information booth, and finding that people in Munich certainly don't speak English very well. After an hour layover in the large, crowded stop, I lug my bag over to a platform, finally finding a younger woman who can speak for directions.
Part II: the castles of Füssen
I first stopped at the Hohenschwangau Castle, after about an half and a hour hike through a fairly well kept path from the Main Street in the village. The castle stood as a summer home for King Ludwig, who chanced upon the building, quite dilapidated structure, on an excursion. Seeing its pristine location, the kind decided to renovate the entire Bavarian castle in the early 1800s, and furnish it for him, his wife and two sons.
I'm not going to lie. The first thought I had entering the palace was "wow. This guy really likes swans..." Swans are everywhere in the castle - door handles, in paintings, elaborately carved into banisters and hanging as brass lamps. The reverence of the swans, according to the tour guide was to honor the family animal, and pay homage to the legend of the Swan Knight - a story of a knight who saves a damsel in distress and marries her under the condition that she never ask his name (if she says his name he transforms back into a swan, the story goes). The story, an opera also happens to be the reason wedding matches are played in Christian weddings today. And interesting tidbit that the guide played for us with the original German verses.
They didn't allow visitors to take any pictures of the interior - possibly because of the damage it would do to the tens of detailed murals and paintings throughout the castle. The entire structure is a dedication to art, though, and looks more like an art museum than a home if not for the dining tables and beds throughout. The first floor, the queen's quarters are painted with detailed images of the ladies in waiting, maids, and old Bavarian princesses and queens. Her bedroom alone stands apart, with long flowing curtains, Turkish lamps, and embroidered silks. The king, on a visit to Istanbul was showered with gifts from the king, and brought them all back to Füssen for his wife, who admired the forgein goods. The room starkly contrasts the rest of the romantic styles paintings of European faces and stories, but adds so much more character to the living quarters.
A steep curving staircase leads to the second floor, where the Kings quarters were rebuilt. Similar to the queen's floor, the king's floor is furnished with elaborate paintings of Knights in armor and quests from their ancestors. The Kings room (thigh somewhat awkward) is painted elaborately with murals of naked women, and even has a hidden staircase to his wife's chambers. But more interestingly, the king was a fan of the night sky. The entire ceiling of his bedroom is painted with little stars and celestial objects that could be lit by servants through the top floor of the castle. His floor overlooks the neighboring lake, and each iron clad window opens to magnificent views of pastures and mountains.
The next part of the tour led me to my real dream: the Neuschwanstein castle. Although it was a difficult journey, seeing the castle in the mountains from even the train caught my breath. It truly is a fairy tale come to life...
After a steep hike of about an hour one way up (though you could also take a horse carriage to the top), you reach THE castle. While the first castle elicits interest from viewers, the second? It's magical! The drawbridge-like entrance leads into a grand courtyard, surrounded by tall pillars, with the seal of the kingdom printed above the heavy set wooden doors. (And of course, there were women who took off their shoes and pretended to run down the staircases as modern day Cinderellas) While the outside is beautiful, the interior is incredible. The castle is drenched in gold, from the ceilings to the mosaic tiles floors. Like his fathers castle, the king had paintings commissioned in the building, though they focus more on legends and fairytales and depict Knights slaying dragons, beautiful princesses and castles on far away mountains. The king was so involved in legends that he created a room solely dedicated to singers and plays, where the entire back wall is painted with an elaborate scene of a forest (what they refer to as the sacred forest where the holy grail is said to lay. The painting is out of place in a way, but not more so than the fake cave the king had built in one of the hallways. Crossing the singing room to the Kings study feels like wandering through an entirely different climate.
The throne room of the castle was never used, and the throne was never installed, but it's still one of the most interesting rooms. The king, feeling that royalty had a divine right to rule created a throne room more similar to a church. A large domed Ceiling arches over a small stage where the throne was to sit, and is painted with images of Christian saints, apostles, and finally, overlooking the entire room, Jesus. A 2,000 pound brass chandelier sinks from the celing, covered in colorful Bavarian semi precious stones. A large mosaic containing thousand of tiny pieces is arranged as birds and flowers on the floor, and the room is ornately decked with carved wooden decorations and brightly reflecting gold. It is, truly, a throne room that you imagine monarchy ruling from.
The castle isn't complete though (and the king only spent 172 days in his dream castle before passing away). Construction was halted immediately after the death of the king and Of the 80 rooms that were meant to be completed, only 15 rooms are done. Imagine how incredibly a complete castle would have been, when only 15 rooms and the spiraled, stone towers could inspire Disney to build an entire fairytale land based on this one Kings vision!
A stone balcony near the exit allows you to stand (and let's be honest) imagine what life would have been like as a princess or queen. The castle, being so far up the mountain gives you incredible views of the southern alps of Germany, and a mountain lake and the H castle add to the fantastical scene. As I was leaving the castle the sun was setting across the mountains casting this beautiful color across the sky. And just to make it even more perfect, I glimpsed a crescent moon rising above one of the towers, as I began my hike down. After reading so many fairytales in my life, I finally feel like I feel like I've experienced at least a small piece of the stories.
I have otherwise not spent much time in Füssen, which seems to just be a little mountain town that happens to hold one a sightseeing destination. The town seems to have more hotels and cafes than any other I have seen, but after hiking a few hours with about 15 pounds of my belongings on my back, I was content spending the evening in my hotel room rather than another old town.