Fussen

Everywhere I have gone thus far, I have always smiled at everybody I made eye contact. I can't help it, it's some kind of innate reflex. In the time I have been traveling, all of two people have smiled back at me, the other nine hundred and fifty have thought I was a psychopath.

Enter the lovely city of Fussen. Kind of like a German Key West. Population a bit older. Population a bit happier. On my walk from the train station I ran into a dozen or so people who not only smiled at me, but said hello as well! A lady on a bike asked me if I was a backpacker, when I nodded, she gave me directions to my hostel, just in case I wasn't sure exactly how to get there. There were people out in their gardens, who waved their pruning shears at me in greeting. By the time I arrived at my hostel, I was practically quivering in excitement.

Anyway, Fussen was sort of like a pilgrimage for me. When I was eight, and we first moved to our new house, my mom wanted to do something to make my new room really special. She found something she knew I would love, a giant wallpaper hanging of the Neuschwanstein castle.


Fifteen years later, the castle wallpaper is still there, but I have finally been able to see the real thing. I decided to walk out to see it (bad idea, feet hurt so badly the next day I could not stand up). When the castle came into view, I responded in a most Larry Z-like manner, and started laughing like a maniac, I was so happy.

I can say a few things to inadequately describe the castle, how it is situated atop a mountain range that is bathed in a semi-permanent fog, the waterfall that cascades into a river to the side of the castle, the breathtaking views of the lush, green valley below...

In all honesty though, the interior of the castle is very ostentatious, much like the Vatican. The guy that built it, Ludwig II, was a bit of a crazy, and ended up drowning under mysterious circumstances before his other three planned castles could be built. Apparently there was some opposition to the taxation required to build the gargantuan structures. How surprising.

Oddly enough, I ran into a couple that Emily, Steph, and I met in Nice during the strike. They were in my tour group going through the castle (only 30 of us), and I stared at them for a bit, looking like a complete idiot, before I realized where I had met them. Since it is expected, and you may be thinking it anyway, I will describe the incident with the requisite phrase: "What a small world!"

Whoever you are, and wherever you are, I hope you are having a fantastic day.