Incredibly Interesting Itinerary!
Castle Climb Causes Considerable Crazy Crisis
As usual it was up at 6:00 to shower and dress (which really meant snooze until 6:25). Breakfast typically started at 7 with many of our group clamoring at 6:45 and me dragging in at 7:30, trying to look pleasant (per the RS "no grump" policy). This was not an easy task, as I'm not a morning person and while not usually grumpy per se, my chattery, jokey self doesn't often appear until around the 10am hour.
Dimitri had offered a lovely, long, scenic walk to the castle and those folks left at 8:15. I really, really wanted to go, but knew my bum ankle really, really did NOT want to go. I figured the steps involved with climbing around the castle was workout enough. Little did I know what was in store for me!
The scenery was beautiful that morning outside the hotel as I waited for the bus.
Dimitri had offered a lovely, long, scenic walk to the castle and those folks left at 8:15. I really, really wanted to go, but knew my bum ankle really, really did NOT want to go. I figured the steps involved with climbing around the castle was workout enough. Little did I know what was in store for me!
The scenery was beautiful that morning outside the hotel as I waited for the bus.
Little Ricky (Richard) loaded us non-walkers on the bus at 9:25. The plan was for us to get to the area, and then take the shuttle to the castle. Unfortunately, Dimitri found out that morning that the shuttle wasn't running. Our choices then were to take a horse drawn carriage, or walk the switchbacks up the mountain to the castles.
When we arrived near the castle, we could see the lines for the carriages- and they were loooooong. I wondered then if one of us should run over right away to hold a spot in line. Dimitri too shared his doubts. "I'm afraid if you wait for the carriage, you'll miss the entry time." I mentioned having someone rush over to hold the line for us while we got organized and he was quick to warn us, "Only if you want to start a riot," he half joked.
So with those words, our choices were taken away from us. If we wanted to see the castles, we would need to walk to them.
So with those words, our choices were taken away from us. If we wanted to see the castles, we would need to walk to them.
Ahhhhh Neuschwanstein, you devil. The "mad" King Ludwig might have loved riding his horse on this patch of mountain, but he obviously was not thinking of out of shape, middle aged tourists WITHOUT horses as he designed his masterpiece. The walk was a test of endurance, of mental fortitude and will. When Dimitri suggested to us cabooses that we should start our walk ASAP so that we would have plenty of time to get to the top, he wasn't just whistlin' Dixie.
I was not part of the slow pack that muddled their way to the top. I was a party of one, moving out of desperation and fear of not making it, wanting nobody to see my anguish as I made it step by step, bit by bit, teardrop by teardrop, up those many switchbacks to the top. Yes, for me it was that bad- and I'd been "training" for months! But my ankle just throbbed and throbbed and I could feel it swelling in my boot. Wherever the slow pack was, I was behind them. Each step was an endurance test. I was the chubby little engine that could. 'I THINK I can, I THINK I can,' is what I muttered under my breath all the way up the switchback only to turn the corner... and see another steep switchback! 'I know I CAN'T, I KNOW I CAN'T!' and I'd stop and take a swig of water and glance at my watch necklace to see if there was any chance in hades of me making it to the top in time. Then I'd look behind me to determine whether it was best to just give up and go back, or to motor on...
I motored. I hadn't come this far NOT to see this castle. I'd read all about handsome young Ludwig, his lonely childhood, his dreamy Disney castle and financial mishandling. As a student going into the mental health field, my heart broke for this King who was declared insane only a few months after building his dream and then died mysteriously a short time later. I had to see this castle. I WOULD see this castle!
It took me almost all of the forty five minutes given to climb the steep switchbacks. There were lovely sights along the way. I know this, because I took pictures of them- not that I remember doing so. I remember wanting to cry... There might have been a few cuss words muttered under my breath. I might have even said something about God blessing Rick Steves for putting this blasted castle on my "must see" list...
You probably think I rejoiced when I got to the top, right? I took a few steps forward and saw my group a few feet away, laughing, talking...
dry...
I was not part of the slow pack that muddled their way to the top. I was a party of one, moving out of desperation and fear of not making it, wanting nobody to see my anguish as I made it step by step, bit by bit, teardrop by teardrop, up those many switchbacks to the top. Yes, for me it was that bad- and I'd been "training" for months! But my ankle just throbbed and throbbed and I could feel it swelling in my boot. Wherever the slow pack was, I was behind them. Each step was an endurance test. I was the chubby little engine that could. 'I THINK I can, I THINK I can,' is what I muttered under my breath all the way up the switchback only to turn the corner... and see another steep switchback! 'I know I CAN'T, I KNOW I CAN'T!' and I'd stop and take a swig of water and glance at my watch necklace to see if there was any chance in hades of me making it to the top in time. Then I'd look behind me to determine whether it was best to just give up and go back, or to motor on...
I motored. I hadn't come this far NOT to see this castle. I'd read all about handsome young Ludwig, his lonely childhood, his dreamy Disney castle and financial mishandling. As a student going into the mental health field, my heart broke for this King who was declared insane only a few months after building his dream and then died mysteriously a short time later. I had to see this castle. I WOULD see this castle!
It took me almost all of the forty five minutes given to climb the steep switchbacks. There were lovely sights along the way. I know this, because I took pictures of them- not that I remember doing so. I remember wanting to cry... There might have been a few cuss words muttered under my breath. I might have even said something about God blessing Rick Steves for putting this blasted castle on my "must see" list...
You probably think I rejoiced when I got to the top, right? I took a few steps forward and saw my group a few feet away, laughing, talking...
dry...
I was sweaty and red faced, my clothes were damp, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I staggered to my group and I looked at my watch. Seriously?! Already? It was time to go in. No rest for the wicked- I mean weary.
Oh, by the by, how do you get in? You go up stairs. Lots and lots of lovely stairs. And what do you do when you get into the castle? More stairs. A tour mate was kind enough to quote from Dear Rick's book- 300 stairs inside.
NO pictures allowed inside.
So what are my memories of Neuschwanstein? It was beautiful, it was tough- and I did it. It was my personal version of running the gauntlet. Nobody was striking me and I wasn't running, but if you get past those two things ;-) I was walking hard, getting passed by those faster than me (including toddlers and little old ladies), nudged out of the way (by those same toddlers and little old ladies), and nearly struck by a horse drawn carriage (would this be irony, people? Or a cruel joke?). Whatever the case, I endured, I adapted, I overcame and I reached the top. Did I just become a Marine?
Many of the group then spoke happily about going to Mary's bridge, which was where the best views of the castle are. I really wanted to go. I wanted those pictures! I looked at the beautiful bridge, waiting in the distance and said, "No way, Mary!"
Oh, by the by, how do you get in? You go up stairs. Lots and lots of lovely stairs. And what do you do when you get into the castle? More stairs. A tour mate was kind enough to quote from Dear Rick's book- 300 stairs inside.
NO pictures allowed inside.
So what are my memories of Neuschwanstein? It was beautiful, it was tough- and I did it. It was my personal version of running the gauntlet. Nobody was striking me and I wasn't running, but if you get past those two things ;-) I was walking hard, getting passed by those faster than me (including toddlers and little old ladies), nudged out of the way (by those same toddlers and little old ladies), and nearly struck by a horse drawn carriage (would this be irony, people? Or a cruel joke?). Whatever the case, I endured, I adapted, I overcame and I reached the top. Did I just become a Marine?
Many of the group then spoke happily about going to Mary's bridge, which was where the best views of the castle are. I really wanted to go. I wanted those pictures! I looked at the beautiful bridge, waiting in the distance and said, "No way, Mary!"
Something important to know: walking down the switchbacks can be even harder than walking up.
I joined up with some buddies for the slow trek back down. At the bottom of the mountain, Dimitri saw us and asked if we wanted our tickets for Hohenschwangau (Ludwig's childhood home). "That there yellow castle? Up there?" I pointed at it perched becomingly on the next mountain over. I eyeballed the switchbacks leading up to it, cursing those fellow tour members who were already power walking up the hills. "Yeeeessss." Dimitri smiled, already knowing where my thoughts were going.
"It looks great from right here!" I smiled back and walked with the others, who also were fine with the views from street level. We walked to the bus where our sack lunches were waiting.
I joined up with some buddies for the slow trek back down. At the bottom of the mountain, Dimitri saw us and asked if we wanted our tickets for Hohenschwangau (Ludwig's childhood home). "That there yellow castle? Up there?" I pointed at it perched becomingly on the next mountain over. I eyeballed the switchbacks leading up to it, cursing those fellow tour members who were already power walking up the hills. "Yeeeessss." Dimitri smiled, already knowing where my thoughts were going.
"It looks great from right here!" I smiled back and walked with the others, who also were fine with the views from street level. We walked to the bus where our sack lunches were waiting.
Beer never looked so good! I don't even like beer, but I was in Germany and I would happily drink German beer (for purely medicinal purposes, of course- rolled ankle- uh hem!).
After lunch I was happy to take my camera and walk around the lake. There were beautiful pictures there, just waiting to be taken. I love people watching and that was a good place to do it. Nobody was crying by the side of the road, or covered in a lather of sweat. People were chatting, on the lake with paddle boats, feeding the ducks, taking selfies, just enjoying the day.
After lunch I was happy to take my camera and walk around the lake. There were beautiful pictures there, just waiting to be taken. I love people watching and that was a good place to do it. Nobody was crying by the side of the road, or covered in a lather of sweat. People were chatting, on the lake with paddle boats, feeding the ducks, taking selfies, just enjoying the day.
When you look at the picture of the two ducks, imagine the scene that was before me. These two came up from the lakeside, talking to each other like two old friends- I'm pretty sure they were even gossiping about the other ducks. They spied a young girl sitting on the bench a few feet from me- eating a sandwich. As if with one mind they walked over to her, chatting the whole while, and then came to a stop in front of her. I swear, they did a head tilt as if to say, "Ya know, that sandwich looks mighty fine, doesn't it?" They both started talking to the girl and though the girl didn't understand the duck language, they made themselves perfectly clear. She was to give them lunch. They stood there, talking to each other and watching her the whole while she ate her sandwich. They were so funny that I started to video them. When her sandwich was gone (without them being given any crumbs)... well I can't say for sure that they swore at her, but I'm pretty sure they asked God to bless her, and they waddled away, talking to themselves, and condemning the human population for their selfish eating habits and rudeness.
After a day of climbing every mountain- okay two mountains- alright, for me ONE REALLY BIG MOUNTAIN (thank you very much), the only true way to celebrate such a feat is by taking a luge ride- or two- or in my case, THREE!
Picture below of me, Bucky and Herb is courtesy of tour-mate, Lori.
Picture below of me, Bucky and Herb is courtesy of tour-mate, Lori.
I ended the day getting my bootie kicked (once again) by Dimitri playing pool. Which is why I asked God to bless him as well!