Fit For a (Fairy Tale) King

I was sorry to see the Germans bow out of the World Cup early, because I’ve had Deutschland on the brain lately. This month (seven years ago) my wife and I cruised down the Rhine River from the Netherlands to Switzerland, but it was pretty much all Germany in between. This month also signals full-on summer and more time in front of the barbeque.  On our grill you’ll find German bratwurst as often as American burgers. But more than river cruises and brats, I’m thinking about castles.  Not the kind made of sand on beaches, but the real ones made of bricks and stone on mountaintops. Like Germany’s Neuschwanstein Castle.

Neuschwanstein Castle

You’re already familiar with Neuschwanstein; I’m sure you are.  When 1.5 million people tour the castle every year – one of the most popular attractions in Europe – it translates to a lot of photos on Facebook.  Also, Neuschwanstein includes all of the castle elements you remember from childhood fairy tales: towers, turrets, balconies, gatehouses, courtyards, dungeons, and (the intention of) more than 200 lavishly decorated rooms, built up to the highest of heights.  There’s no surrounding moat, but Neuschwanstein gets along fine without one, perched on a hilltop in the middle of the Bavarian Alps.

Painting by Hubert Sattler (1904)

Frankly, all this castle needs to complete its picture is a king and his court.  Alas, Neuschwanstein never had a king – never – not even after its completion in 1892.  Yes, the castle was designed by King Ludwig II of Bavaria, but here’s where the fairy tale falls to pieces.  To begin with, Ludwig built the castle to escape the stresses of his primary palace life in Munich, so more than anything else it was meant to be a vacation home.  Then, Ludwig copied most of Neuschwanstein’s architectural elements from nearby castles, so the design is pretty much a mashup of structures that came beforehand.  Finally, and perhaps the saddest statement of all, Neuschwanstein was never completed – not even close.  With only a throne room, a “Minstrels’ Hall” (a sort of tribute to the entertainment of the time), a drawing room, and a dozen other spaces, Neuschwanstein’s construction fell well short of its intended 200+ rooms.

Neuschwanstein’s “Minstrels’ Hall”

The whole idea of Neuschwanstein feels like a bit of a charade.  Did Ludwig really intend to decorate and staff hundreds of rooms in a castle from which he didn’t care to lord over the surrounding land?  Was he really just frittering away Mom and Dad’s money because he was bored in Munich and had nothing better to spend it on?  And shouldn’t he have been focusing his time and energy on his royal responsibilities instead?  No wonder he was often referred to as “The Mad King”.

Let’s forget about Ludwig.  After all, this post is about a castle, not the king who never occupied it.  For all of its lack of completion, originality, and use, Neuschwanstein is still a model castle.  Most of you should recognize it from the castle designs it inspired: Disneyland’s Sleeping Beauty Castle and Walt Disney World’s Cinderella Castle.  But I prefer another one of its inspirations.

If Neuschwanstein is the ultimate castle, then Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (which I wrote about five years ago in Delicious Clicks) is the ultimate fairy tale.  The story of the magical flying car, its inventor Caractacus Potts, the evil Baron Bomburst, the lovely Truly Scrumptious, and on and on, comes back to me like it was yesterday.  Chitty Chitty Bang Bang was the first Ian Fleming book I ever read, well before anything James Bond.  Yet it never occurred to me until this post that Neuschwanstein served as the story’s castle.  The movie version includes several aerial shots (from the driver’s seat of a flying car, of course), and sweeping views of the surrounding countryside.  Neuschwanstein has always had a familiarity about it.  Now I know why.

Someday I’ll make the journey to see King Ludwig II’s creation in person… but not before I build it myself here at home.  Just when I thought I’d tackled my last LEGO project, along comes another one I simply can’t pass up.  The LEGO Neuschwanstein Castle is 3,455 bricks of towers, turrets, and Bavarian Alps, boxed and bagged along with the usual paperweight instruction manual.  I’m ready to don my crown and get started and as usual I’ll include small updates alongside my usual posts.  When all’s said and built maybe I’ll even suspend a flying car overhead, so the castle looks more like a fairy tale than a mere vacation home for a mad king.

Some content sourced from Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

Happy Holiday

If you subscribe to Disneyland’s claim of “the happiest place on earth”, you’re really talking about the several happiest places on earth.  Besides the original parks in California and Florida you now have more exotic locales like Tokyo, Shanghai, and Paris – a total of twelve Disney theme parks across the globe.  Now throw in Hawaii’s Aulani (Disney) Resort & Spa for a baker’s dozen.  But do a search on “the happiest place on earth” and nothing remotely close to the lands of Disney comes up.  Instead, you get the land of the Finns.

Maybe you haven’t heard of the World Happiness Report? I have. I first blogged about it five years ago in my post, Happy Days Aren’t Here Again.  Back then I wasn’t lamenting the fact the UN established a rather desperate-sounding holiday (“International Day of Happiness” – March 20th).  Rather, I was un-happy the United States ranked #14 in the holiday’s companion report.  Thirteen countries, including #1 Norway, were happier places on earth.  To make matters worse, the U.S. had been slipping in the happiness rankings since the first report in 2013.  This year?  The Americans dropped again, to #16.

The Northern Lights make me happy

An objective report on happiness sounds a little ridiculous but when one country (Finland) ranks “happiest” five years running, you sit up and wonder what you’re missing with Laplander life. Consider the variables in the happiness report calculation:

  1. Healthy life expectancy
  2. GDP (goods and services) per capita
  3. Social support in times of trouble
  4. Low corruption
  5. High social trust
  6. Generosity to the community
  7. Freedom to make key life decisions
Cold = contentment?

Maybe you assume Finland’s proximity to Ukraine (and Russia) puts it in a nonpareil position to earn high marks for say, “social support” and “generosity to the community”.  But this year’s rankings were determined before Russia’s invasion.  Finland was already socially supportive and generous (and apparently “happy”).  So, does Finland come to mind when you consider the list above?  It doesn’t for me, but I will say this. The Finns enjoy day-to-day living. On a Baltic Sea cruise a few years ago we spent several hours in the capitol city of Helsinki, where we had the chance to observe the locals.  What were they doing? Sunning themselves in the parks on an unusually warm day. Shopping in open-air markets.  Children walking home from school unattended.  Peace and quiet wherever you looked.  Happiness.

Eight of the ten “happiest” are on this map

Let’s visit some of the other happier-than-America countries.  There must be something good in Baltic Sea water because Norway, Sweden, and Denmark also make the top ten.  Iceland skates in at #3, which almost makes for a clean (and happy) sweep of the Nordic countries.  Switzerland (#4) and New Zealand (#10) are also “happiest”, and I can think of several reasons to spend time in both places.

As the song goes, “don’t worry, be happy”, but I confess I’m a little concerned about happiness here in America.  We need to step up our feel-good game from more than just Disney theme parks.  Maybe post those seven criteria on our refrigerators as regular reminders. Or, spend more time in saunas like the Finns do.  Otherwise, it may be time to pick up and move further north.  After all, happiness beckons.

Some content sourced from the CNN Travel article, “The World’s Happiest Countries for 2022, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

——————–

Lego Grand Piano – Update #16

(Read about how this project got started in Let’s Make Music!)

Every piano keyboard demands a cover to keep it clean. Bag #16 – of 21 bags of pieces – was entirely dedicated to the protection of the keys.  As the photos show, the keyboard cover hinges gracefully up and down, blending seamlessly with the rest of the black piano frame.

A word about leftover pieces (another 3 this week).  I need to be more thankful they’re “leftover” and not “missing”.  I swear I was shorted an important piece this time around (and maybe I really did swear).  But as usual, there it was in plain view in my pile of pieces.  I’m grateful to the human or the machine making sure every last piece was included in my Lego Grand Piano box.

Running Build Time: 12.0 hours.  Musical accompaniment: Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture. Leftover pieces: 3

Conductor’s Note: Peter (or Pyotr, if you prefer) Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture was an interesting choice for this week’s build, because I completed the keyboard cover before 8:30am.  If you know the Overture, you know it’s fortíssimo, like an alarm clock firing on all cylinders.  It’s a blast better meant for an Independence Day fireworks celebration (and some orchestras add a real cannon for the finale). The Overture is also brisk; a mere sixteen minutes from start to finish.  I wasn’t that quick with the keyboard cover build, but I did wrap it up in less than a half-hour.