Text 23246, 111 rader
Skriven 2012-04-02 13:03:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: trip report 484
=======================
Dawn comes bright through these windows on a nice day, so
there was no question of sleeping in.

We felt duty-bound to check out breakfast, on which as it
turns out they do not stint. The hostess encouraged us to
take a booth at the end with a terrific view to the big
castle. At the other end was a station with a Madchen in
picturesque local garb making omelets (rather hard) and
other egg things (rather hard).

A table of cold cuts, cold salads, and fruit. A table of
breads and cakes. A table of teas and fresh and preserved
and dried fruit. Good brewed decaf.

I breakfasted as on all four days on pretty good smoked
salmon and decent prosciutto. And some fruit.

You get timed tickets to the castles with tours in your
language if available, either that or audioguides. I applied
for 10:00 at Schloss Hohenschwangau and got the first
available English tour, 10:50, with a diffident young woman
whose English was fairly good but accented peculiarly, which
sparked a tall tourist to jump on her when at some point she
pronounced enamel in a way that sounded like enema. He said
he didn't understand her (whether he didn't understand or
was just being sadistic I don't know), and he persisted in
this obnoxious little derailment while she, understandably
taking him for French, tried to explain in that language,
which he pretended not to understand either. I finally
stepped in and gave the proper pronunciation of the term.
Funny thing was that the guy's English was worse than hers.

Anyhow, it is a lovely castle of moderate size, the seat of
the Wittelsbach kings; it was rebuilt over a structure razed
by Napoleon. Nicely furnished, decorated with mythological,
pastoral, and hunting scenes dominated by swan motifs, but
not ostentatious - one could see how Mad King Ludwig would
have wanted to build a grander one up the hill and outdo his
ancestors. It's a 45-minute tour, same length as that of
the big castle, and well worth the effort, perhaps more
interesting than the other. Plus you get to see the piano
Wagner played when he was in town. After our allotted time
was up, I told our guide that her English was fine, which
she demurred to, whereupon I made the irrelevant comment
that it was a damn sight finer than my German.

We were disgorged right at 11:40 into the back courtyard
in brilliant, lovely sunlight, whence we were directed to
the Alpsee and then back to town. After a short wander it
was time to hie ourselves to the big castle.
==
There are three ways of getting from town to Neuschwanstein.
One, take a bus with the masses; two, take a romantic
horse-drawn open carriage, whatever they call it, with six
to eight of your nearest and dearest; three, walk a little
less than a mile, for which the literature tells you to
allow 30 or 40 minutes: even in our advanced state of age
and debility it took us half that. At the top of the walk,
just below the castle courtyard, a patio area with wondrous
views of the valley below and the cliffs and waterfalls
above and across.

Another superb afternoon, so our half hour of extra time
was well spent basking in the courtyard and wandering around
the grounds.

By the way, the renovations on the far end, through which
you enter, are complete, so those who mill about have a
proper Ludwiggian experience; the construction site is
visible mostly from town.

At the front gate an intercom such as you'd see in apartment
buildings in Munich. The buttons are labeled Ludwig, Richard
Wagner, and Sisi.

Our number was called at exactly 1301, and we dutifully
trooped in, guided by a robust young woman whose confidence
and English were both exemplary. Another 45 minutes of
19th-century something between culture and kitch, and out of
there just in time, as I was ready to bite someone's ankle.

Luckily right near the top is the Schlossrestaurant, whose
specialty is the "oven-fresh" Schweinshaxe, a relative
bargain at E9.50. Comes with bread dumpling and sauerkraut,
both turning out to be surprisingly palatable, though we
tried to get it through to our waiter that we wanted mash
instead. Between our touristicity and the noisy distractions
of a large unruly coeducational assortment of Italian high-
schoolers nearby and the waiter's Hungarianness, there was
no point pressing for a substitution, so we gave up, which
was fine with me. The gravy might have been from a drum,
but it was a good drum and enriched with pork drippings.
The Haxe itself was not of amazing tenderness but tasted
pretty good. We split the one plate as dinner was in just a
few hours. Lilli had a red wine (mediocre as usual); I
had a hard time convincing the waiter that I wanted a
Mass of beer; he kept saying "halb Liter," and I kept
gesturing largely and saying "Liter, Liter, Mass, Mass."
Eventually it came (HB helles) and duly added sparkle
and additional beauty to the afternoon. A short walk
down the mountain, and we were back home for a snooze
before visiting the Museum of the Bavarian Kings, a paean
to the Wittelsbach monarchs from the early days to their
anti-Naziism to the present day. There was nothing in
particular that stood out, but it was well done and a
good way to spend an hour. As it began to get a little
chilly, we went back Lislward.

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