When King Ludwig II wanted to get away from it all, which was often during his 22-year reign, he escaped to one of three palaces. I got to see the two of them in closest proximity, including the supposed inspiration for Sleeping Beauty's castle at Disneyland.
Unfortunately, photos are not permitted inside either Neuschwanstein or Linderhof--the better to get tourists to visit in person and buy souvenir books--but the settings for both are so spectacular that you don't feel entirely cheated. Still, take my word for it: if waaaaaaaaaaaay over-the-top interior decor is your thing, few cribs I've ever seen rival the Mad King of Bavaria's.
Neuschwanstein
The incredible natural beauty of southernmost Bavaria begins with alpine lakes. These two frauleins were about to take a dip just outside of Schwangau where I stayed.
Nestled in the lower Alps, Neuschwanstein can be see from miles around particularly when its white facade reflects the bright afternoon sun.
Most tourists park their cars in a lot and take a bus or a horse-driven carriage up the mountain to the castle. Don't feel too sorry for the dray horses. The carriage is motorized, a kind of hoof-assist.
Here's the money shot of my entire trip. I couldn't believe my luck in terms of the weather and the angle of the sun although it took quite a bit of huffing and puffing to get it.
Florian told me that the MarienBrücke, or Maria Bridge, was the perfect vantage point for a picture. Built by Ludwig's father for his mother, an avid hiker whose name you can guess, the steel suspension bridge pre-dates the castle by nearly 50 years. It's visible in the lower right hand corner of the photo below.
I climbed even higher to get this shot of the surrounding countryside. It's hard to spot--look for a beige hilltop structure, center left--but Ludwig, who ascended to the throne at the age of 18, spent his childhood at Hohenschwangau, a castle nearby. Two years after he became king, however, Bavaria was subsumed by Prussia and he lost any real power.
Neuschwanstein looms above as you approach. Although it looks huge, just 14 rooms were furnished prior to Ludwig's death in 1886. He spent less than six months total in residence and he never received guests there. The half-hour tour includes the opportunity to stand on the middle balcony.
When planning the trip, I snagged the last time slot in October for Germany's most visited tourist attraction. I took that as a sign I was meant to go despite the $1700 airfare. The Germans do not admit you early.
You're allowed through the gate an hour before your tour. There really isn't much to see until you finally get inside at precisely the time embedded in your QR code. Although Neuschwanstein is entirely Ludwig's vision, he hired a set designer instead of an architect to implement it.
Norse mythology and swans (Neuschwanstein means "new swan stone" in English) are recurring decorative motifs. I snuck a photo of this faucet on the way out. Attention to detail is one of Ludwig's defining characteristics.
Trees shrouded Hohenschwangau on my chilly walk back to the hotel after a delicious meal of pork wienerschnitzel, spaetzle, salad and beer.
There's nothing quite like a curvy, 45-minute drive through the Austrian Alps to get your morning juices flowing. I didn't realize I'd have to cross the border--a big rental car no no--to get to Linderhof on time for my 9:25 a.m. tour.
It's the smallest of Ludwig's three palaces and the only one completed during his lifetime. He spent most of his thirties here by himself, apart from his servants, pestering Richard Wagner to write more operas.
Given the choice, I'd definitely pick Linderhof over Neuschwanstein. It's more accessible, cozier and a lot easier to clean!
The scales of Justice gleam just like the Venus Fountain.
Can you believe it's powered by natural water pressure, erupting every 20 minutes?
Out back, water cascades from the Music Pavilion over 30 steps before flowing into Neptune's Fountain.
A statue of Pheme, the Greek goddess who personifies fame and renown, dominates the western parterre.
If you're in her favor, you're notable; if not, you're the subject of scandalous rumors.
Behind her, Cupid goofs off with a pair dolphins.
Anyone who visits Linderhof learns that the 18th century Sun King--and his absolute authority in France--obsessed Ludwig. Although he traveled rarely, he did visit Versailles and incorporate some of its design elements, including sun motifs in multiple rooms. But Ludwig also was a night bird and he anchored that aspect of his lifestyle in the palace's construction. Whereas Louis gave his first and last audiences of the day in his bedroom on the south side of Versailles, Ludwig situated his bedroom on Linderhof's north. Not that Ludwig ever had any audiences other than ghosts!
Cupid, here doing his job in the eastern parterre fountain, shoots an arrow of water . Although Ludwig was once engaged, Maria didn't approve his fiancé, an actress. Ambivalent himself, he ended the engagement. However, if you believe Empty Theatre--and I do--women just didn't ring his chimes. Who else but an opera queen would install a grotto in one of his castles? Author Jac Jemc convincingly imagines it as Ludwig's setting for a very erotic, final tryst with his livery man before his death by suicide or murder at the age of 40.
Even though the 300-year-old tree at the left spoils the garden's symmetry, Ludwig allowed it to remain. The Night King had a tree house built in which he took his "morning coffee," just as the sun was setting.
The Naiad Fountain has a terrific view of the palace and terrace gardens.
I know a Diana who would love it!
Marie Antoinette also graces this level. There's a painting of her in the dining room, too, but none of his favorite cousin, Empress Elisabeth of Austria. Apparently, Ludwig's servants often overheard him conversing with dead French royals. He didn't get the "Mad King" moniker for nothing!
Venus occupies pride of place at the top of a man-made hill.
Despite my frequent hyperbole, I think I can say Linderhof is the prettiest getaway I've ever seen.
And I wasn't seeing Ludwig's favorite palace for the first time either, although the gift shop sales clerk didn't seem to believe me after I told her I had visited 67 years earlier, when I barely could walk. "Neither of us has changed a bit," I joked. She didn't laugh.
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