DECEMBER 30, 2005: NEUSCHWANSTEIN
We woke up at a reasonable hour for Fruhstuck (breakfast), included in our room price. The dining room was small, but the food and service were very good. There was meat, cheese, tomatoes, cucumbers, eggs, bread, cereal, and bottomless pots of coffee and tea.
After filling up, we asked the front desk clerk the best way to get to Neuschwanstein, the famous Bavarian castle, from where we were. She wasn’t sure exactly. Peter asked for directions to a specific highway, and she said something about finding the “Mullerring”, and then we’d find the highway from there.
Peter started heading up Ludwigsstrasse towards the university; he was sure he’d seen a sign pointing to the highway on the road. I was sure from looking at the maps that we needed to go back the way we came and turn left. I finally convinced Peter that he should turn around, and voila! he saw the highway sign he was looking for. In that moment, I started to wonder if God thought of Peter and I as two of his students for whom he’d created an information gap activity: Peter and I each had half of the information necessary to make the whole trip work.
It still took us another 20 minutes of twists, turns, and asking two cab drivers for directions before we found the “Mueller Ring” and finally the highway out of Munich.
The paperwork Peter had said we should take the B7 to the castle. As I was looking at the map, though, the B17 looked closer and easier. Of course, in these situations, looks can be deceiving; in this case, the road less traveled was also a road that moved more slowly than I anticipated. The B17 was two lanes and went through lots of small towns with slow speed limits. To be honest, the scenery wasn’t that impressive either. It may have been more impressive in summer, or it may have been more impressive if I hadn’t just come from seeing the steppes and cowherders of Ukraine and Moldova.
The Bavarian Alps made me sit up and take notice though. The peaks were majestic and snow covered, and the sun glinting off of them added a rare beauty. I still feel a little bad asking Peter to do all of the driving to see a castle that was so touristy, but for me seeing those Alps made that part of the trip worth it.
We arrived in town and went to the visitor’s center to buy our tickets for the castle. Normally there is a bus that takes visitors to the top of the hill, but the bus was not running due to icy road conditions. Our choices were to walk or take the horse-drawn carriage. I thought the carriage ride would be kinda cool, but Peter wouldn’t hear of it. The walk turned out to be nice despite the cold, though. It took about 20 minutes and I am sure I needed the exercise after all that beer and sausage.
We had our ticket electronically scanned at our tour group’s appointed time of 3:05. The tour was conducted in English. The rooms were what one would expect from a medieval castle; tall ceilings, long red carpets, tapestries on the walls, and the like. There were many swans in the rooms; his childhood home had been “Schwangau” (Swanland), and “Neuschwanstein” (New Swan Stone) was the castle he built across the street as an adult. Perhaps more interesting than the rooms was the story of Ludwig’s life, his madness, and the mysterious circumstances of his death, possibly at the hands of his own psychiatrist.
After the tour and a walk through the old kitchen, we saw a very strange movie about Ludwig and his life. Then it was time to walk down the hill and start the long journey back to Munich.
Along the way, we started to get hungry. We stopped at a roadside Bavarian restaurant that had been there since the 1500s. It felt like being in a hunter’s lodge; there were many animal heads on the wall. Because of the cold, I was in the mood for Gluehwein. It wasn’t very good there, though. A better choice was the Hirschgulasch (venison ghoulash) with Semmlnknoedel (dumplings made from bread rolls). Peter informed me that Semmlnknoedeln are very traditional and very Bavarian. They were delicioius.
About an hour and a half later, we were back in Schwabing. Peter rested while I started adding layers of clothing—it was Friday night and we wanted to go out again in Schwabing, and it was expected to be –14 Celsius (about 7 degrees F) that night.
As we walked up the street, Peter was very disappointed by Schwabing. Apparently it had had a reputation at one time of being very hip and eclectic. The Schwabing we saw was quiet and yuppified. We saw some nice places for a drink, but for some reason “nice” also looked expensive to me. So I talked Peter into a place that looked darker and more down-to-earth. We sat there and downed another liter of beer while talking about life.
Tags: Alps, driving, Germany, Munich, Neuschwanstein, Travel
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