Things you already know

I was in the Bavarian Alps a few weeks ago to see Neuschwanstein and Zugspitze, the greatest castle and the tallest mountain Germany has to offer. Unfortunately, they are aggressively, vehemently, and violently marketed as such and have become havens for one of those things I had always hoped to avoid: direct contact with American tourists. It was painful and embarrassing, but I came back alive and with shiny shiny pictures:

Although Hohenschwangau Castle looks like it was made in the Middle Ages it is in fact a castle of the 19th century, built over the ruins of an older fortress. It was Crown Prince/King Maximillian's summer and hunting residence until his death. His heir, Ludwig II of Bavaria, lived in the castle during the construction of Neuschwanstein.

Speaking of,

This castle is unlike any other work of German architecture, thanks in large part to the insanity of the man who commissioned it. King Ludwig II of Bavaria was obsessed with the works of Wagner and tried to bring them to life through rooms of incredibly opulent design. Whatever wasn't carved was intricately painted to represent stories or themes from Ludwig's favorite operas. A room with over 100 swans painted, sculpted, and carved into walls and furniture; a throne room covered in murals and mosaics, an artificial cave (really), and a concert hall upon whose stage was painted a pastel-colored impressionist representation of an Alpine forest were the most impressive. Words don't do them justice.

The gift shop wasn't too bad, either. Yes, if we wanted to escape we'd have to get through the strategically-placed gift shop first, and try to avoid the five other shops on the way down the hill. Such blatant marketing was a serious buzzkill, as were the people who typically fall for that sort of thing.

Tourists. Where do I start? I'll start by saying tourists aren't a problem; that would make me a problem whenever I go anywhere. No, it's tour groups that are embarrassing. Let me also say that this is not a strictly American issue; tour groups of all nationality appear to display the same behavioral patterns.

I appreciate tour groups for the opportunities they give to those who aren't willing or able to make travel plans. I understand what they do. But they should have rules for what tour group members can and cannot say when around actual Germans.

I was with a large group of Americans during the tour of Neuschwanstein. The group's banter was the kind of humor and observation that happens between people who don't really know each other is combined with a manner of speaking that can only be described as "publish, then filter." Put it in high-volume American English and you've got bland observations and distressingly bad jokes that don't just appear and fade but demand attention, which is unfortunate because the quality of the discourse had no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I don't blame the tourists for a lack of acquaintance and the obvious awkwardness or for not taking any risks or not making their own plans, but seriously - when one hears a series of one-liners and non sequiturs so insipid as to seem inspired, whether it's justified is not the bystander's primary concern.

Some of the quiet ones asked technical questions about paint degradation rates and restoration efforts, almost as if to apologize. I found myself embarrassed for all parties involved. They weren't bad people and they weren't doing anything wrong, but these poor tourists in their Hawaiian shirts, denim shorts, fanny packs and ever-clicking cameras were 99% of all Americans the Germans in this town would ever see. Does that affect one's view of a nationality? I hope not. I didn't ask.

I walked down to the bus station to catch the 12:00 shuttle to Garmisch and found out the service I had been counting on was discontinued. I decided to make a day of it and walked back to the castle bridge.

This photo was taken from a bridge between two mountains across from Neuschwanstein. I felt the need to break away from the awkward atmosphere that naturally occurs from overexposure to fanny packs, so I found a path leading up one of the mountains. The steepness of the climb discouraged many of the others, so I was largely alone.

The weather was perfect, there were few clouds, and I had no reason to climb down for the next three hours. So I sat, dozed, watched paragliders circle the castles. I'm glad I was forced to stay.

Overall it was a good experience, despite the kitschy tourist trap atmosphere at the base of the castle. I can't blame them for capitalizing on such a good set of landmarks.

But I certainly can blame them for selling bratwursts for 3.50.


The day after that, I went deeper into the Alps to ascend Zugspitze, the tallest mountain in Germany.

This is the view of Zugspitze from the town of Garmisch-Partenkirchen.

I chose to take the lift to the summit instead of the train. I have to mention that I never freaked out, even though we were zooming upwards mere inches from a sheer cliff face almost two miles above the ground.

Best view ever? Best view ever.

I discovered something about myself on the top of Zugspitze: while I am not afraid of heights, I am afraid of precipices. Edges. Standing on the edge of a sheer drop, even when there's a fence blocking the fast way down. I felt a visceral fear whenever I got too close to the fences, and when I was standing at the edges of the massive observation deck I had to hold onto something.

The middle of the observation deck was a welcome compromise.

Three days well spent.