Two Sagas: Herrnchiemsee and My Journey Home
1. Herrnchiemsee.
This lake, the deepest in Bavaria, is one of the favorite vacation spots for Münchners due to its readily available sailing, swimming, and general water recreation activities. It is also the location of one of Ludwig II’s exquisite fairy-tale castles. Modeled after Louis XIV’s Versailles in France, Herrnchiemsee was never completed. Only 20 of the 70 planned rooms were actually finished, but the Hall of Mirrors out-stretches the one at Versailles. The most famous and most visited of Ludwig’s castles, however, is Neuschwanstein, near the town of Füssen and the Austrian border. Herrnchiemsee, on the other hand, is located on an island on the lake and is reachable only by boat. For most people. One brilliant afternoon, Chris, Gertrud, Dillon and i all piled into the McKissick family BMW and headed to Chiemsee. Chris drove. Gertrud had packed picnic items for us all which included egg sandwiches, cooked veggies, and some other miscellaneous items. The main reason for our excursion was not the water, however. Gertrud works at Lufthansa, a German airline, and thusly is able to get tickets to certain events through her contacts. This time she was able to round up expensive tickets to the Schloßkonzert or Castle Concert at Herrnchiemsee for the four of us! Excellent! i think they were valued at 34 Euro or something outrageous. Anyway, we got to the lake and to kill time before the show, we hung out by the waterfront in a campground which we probably we not supposed to be in. We ate some food, went swimming, and enjoyed the beauty. As we are sitting on this park bench enjoying our food, Gertrud nonchalantly mentions, well you could swim over to the island, and so on and so forth. That sounded like pretty good idea to me, as i tend to take advantage of every opportunity possible to get in the water, especially while abroad. So after mustering up some strength and convincing Dillon to come with me, we set off.
“You have no idea what you’re getting US into,” he said to me. “Remember the other day when we swam out to the buoy at the lake? That was far. THIS is far. Much further.” On we swam. About half way through the swim, Dillon started to shiver uncontrollably. His lips started turning purple. i began to give him small boosts by cupping my hands together and pushing him toward our destination and then swimming forward and doing it again. We both got really tired. Dillon said, “When swimming long distances, it’s always good to have a spotter in case you get tired.” Yep. Pretty much. But what were we going to do, already halfway through the lake? Keep swimming that’s what.
For those of you Nemo fans, “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. What do we do? We swiiiimmmm…”
Our goal was at first a tree, then a large yellow post that seemed to be getting closer and closer. Then the current started up. Then lightning and clouds started rolling over the mountains. Things were getting pretty scary. All we could do was keep on going though. Finally, we reached the yellow post. Turns out it was stable and we could stand on it because it was a marker for a submerged rock, so that boats wouldn’t hit it. Dillon was shaking way out of control. i held him out of the water and tried to keep him warm as much as possible. After a while, i just said, “You know what, screw it man, we just need to go for the shore. So we got back in the water. After a short distance i could touch the ground, so i towed my friend to dry land. Or so i thought. Turns out, instead of there being a solid shore, we really ran into a wall of marshes and reeds. Dillon was still in no shape to go by himself, so i carried him on my back a while through the marshes. i was freaked out that i was going to get bitten by a water snake or something. When my feet started to hurt from the weight, i let Dillon down and we kept going. We walked through really thick razor grass, but couldn’t feel a thing, and we were assuming that we were getting eaten alive by disease bearing insects at the very best. After we cleared the high grass, there was a short strip of mossy-covered land which was a little more solid. However, as we walked through it, we realized that our feet sank down through the moss into freezing cold water, far colder than the lake we had just swam across. Stagnant? Yeah. Disease Ridden? Probably. Sharp Rocks at the Bottom? Most likely.
Bring it on.
Finally we ended up on dry land. …But this was not the end, oh no. We now faced a wall of Brennesseln, know in the English language as Stinging Nettles. Not cool. i had brushed up against this foe before, and was not about to go gung-ho right through the thick of it. So we tried to find a way around. Our feet were muddy, our legs were cold and slightly scraped, and we were probably still being eaten by ravenous insects. Zig-zagging around, we finally found a way through the nettles. Of course, they never fully went away, but they relented. i hacked a few aside, as both Dillon and i gained sticks as our trusty weapons. We were Hobbits in Lord of the Rings. We were fearsome warriors in an even more fearsome world.
We found a path. We followed the path, going tenderly along the rocks with our bare feet. The wind began to howl and whip through the trees and then it started raining. Hard. It was all very surreal. Lightning cracked and flashed around and still we continued on. We came upon a sign saying Wanderweg meaning hiking path, which did not seem very good to us, so we opted to abandon that road at the next possible point. One road forked off to the right, but seeming treacherously unused, we continued on. We turned off at what seemed like an island compost area and ran through some very disgusting bio-water. We got out of that stuff as fast as was humanly possible and splashed our feet in some clean puddles as we went. Jumping over a felled tree (possibly from the storm, who knows?) we reached a fence and an open grass field. Both good signs. Running along the rocky path, still very tenderly, we reached another open field. A lake appeared on our left and suddenly, we looked to our right, and there it was. The Herrnchiemsee Palace and all its splendor. We had popped out on the main grass terrace leading up to the entrance (i thought it was the rear entrance, but i’m not 100% certain). It had large fountain with people turning into frogs and vise-versa, just like the one i’d seen in Versailles. So here we are, sprinting down the grass through the rain in nothing but our swim shorts. We came up to the fountain and Dillon said, “Let’s go through the fountain.” Of course we did so without skipping a beat. i mean, what else were we going to do? We were already wet anyhow, and normally the water is probably way too disgusting to go in, but what did we care? We survived everything else. The water was deeper than i had expected and very warm—much warmer than any water that we’d come into contact with thus far. Coming out the other side, we encountered a very large, menacing bush. We ran around. Sprinting up the palace stairs, we could see Chris and his mom through the glass doors. We waved. Drenched and dripping, we strolled up to the doors of the palace and the formal concert, still barefoot and dressed in swim trunks. Amazingly, the man at the door let us in, granted that we go immediately to the restroom and change. Luckily Chris and his mom had brought our clothes from the car. We got lots of grins from the more down-to-earth people and side-long scowls from the grumpy and pompous. It was cool. We’re probably among a very few amount of people to have swam across the nearly two-mile gap from Prien am Chiemsee to the island of Herrncheimsee (we looked it up on the internet afterward) and most definitely the only ones to have entered the Palace soaking wet in our swim trunks on the eve of a formal concert immediately after said feat. Crazy. Our wounds in the end included overly massive mosquito bites, countless very small slices from the razor grass on our feet and legs, and a few scratches, but all in all, we were very blessed.
You know what else, Chris and his mom didn’t know that we were doing this, otherwise they would have never allowed it. They figured we’d be coming back any moment, but we never did. It turns out Gertrud had just mentioned this possibility as a joke, but didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to do it. Those crazy Americans.
2. My Journey Home
i’ll try to make this one shorter and to the point than Saga #1, so perhaps if i introduced bullet points and narrate in incomplete sentences it will go quicker. Nonetheless, it is a saga.
-Woke up Thursday morning German time due to a hammering on the floor above Chris’ apartment. Sweet.
-Couldn’t go back to sleep so i ate breakfast and prepared to go to the airport.
-Took a shower, got my stuff together, went to the S-Bahn.
-Barely made it on the S-Bahn and zoomed off to the airport to catch my 11:25 flight to London.
-Checked in, finding out that i didn’t depart until 1:40 or something like that. Dang! i just went through security anyway, and said good-bye to Chris.
-Sat in the airport for hours and watched the 11:25 flight to London leave without me.
-Waited for the 1:40 flight to London, only to discover that it was an hour and twenty minutes delayed due to “Winter weather and Fog” that morning. It’s July.
-Finally got on the plane with the likelihood that i would never be able to board my 3:45 flight to LAX out of Heathrow, even with the one hour time difference.
-i was right.
-took an hour to go through security in London, met some girls from Munich who were traveling to the Canada and then the States for two months total. Plus one German girl who was going to South Africa. Checked the departure screen in desperation, even though i knew the flight was long gone.
-stood in the Customer Service line for at least an hour.
-met and Australian named James and discussed such topics as his Spanish father and pen pal, his recent trip to Spain, Wallabies, Koala Bears, Finding Nemo, and The Rescuers Down Under. …among other topics.
-got hotel vouchers for the night and bus passes to said hotel. i’d be going to LA the next morning.
-Finally found and waited at the bus stop for H6 and rode the bus out of a very crowded Heathrow, on an hour ride which should have taken only 15 or 20 mins.
-Got to the hotel, waited to get checked in, spoke with a Serbian girl who was with her non-English speaking mother. (Her sister lived in Germany. They now live in Chicago.)
-Got my dinner and breakfast voucher, went to my hotel room, came back down and ate dinner, and set my plan into motion which i had formulated the moment i’d realized i’d be overnighting in London.
-Went to the counter, tried to figure out the bus system to get to the nearest tube and get into town, but got lost and ended up sprinting around for another hour or so. Mostly in the wrong direction.
-Finally made it onto a correct bus, but had out-of-use Pound-age, so the driver let me ride for free.
-Got to a Tube station, bought my ticket, (with my valid 20 Pound note) and was on my way. i asked a worker there what the best stop would be to get the London Eye and he said Westminster, but i had to change at Hammersmith and get on another line due to the bombings on July 7th.
-A Londoner overheard this and started talking with me on the way downtown. He was really cool, had just got back from vacationing in Israel, and instructed me to get off at Embankment instead for a more enjoyable walk along the river. i still had to make said changes. This also happened to be where he was going in order to catch a train to his house, so i just rode with him and chatted without having to pay much attention to where i was going, except how i was going to get back.
-Said good-bye, gave him my e-mail address, and went over to the Eye. They were closed.
-Walked over to the clock tower of Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, and walked around those. Learned some stuff about London and saw and Oliver Cromwell statue. Went over to the Sovereign’s entrance and over to Westminster Abbey for a look.
-Sat on the lawn and watched/listened to the clock strike eleven o’ clock—very cool—then mosey-d on back to a Tube station.
-Saw ridiculous, silly British signs such as, “Do not feed the pigeons. They are both a health hazard and a nuisance.”
-Got back to the hotel without too much trouble and went to sleep after getting in contact with Kirsten and letting her know about my delay.
-Woke up five hours later at seven o’clock to catch my 10:05 flight. Had breakfast.
-Stood in a very long line for check-in.
-Got sent to customer service when i got to the front.
-Got told i was on stand-by (again)
-The flight doors closed at 9:55, it was 9:34 and the lady at the check in was looking at the computer. i still hadn’t gone thorough security. i thought i was doomed.
-All of a sudden, the lady said, “Sir, there’s a seat available. Go.”
-Wanting to protest, but too confused to do so, i quickly gathered my things and sprinted over to the security check. i got through, and sprinted all the way to the gate and barely boarded the slightly delayed plane.
-Flew ten hours to LA, finding out upon arrival that my bags were lost. Shocking.
-Came out the gate to see Kirsten on Friday July 28th at about 2:15 pm, several detours and time-zones after waking up in Germany.
-Drove to Orange with Kirsten, went to the house and left my stuff there which i could spare, gathered any clothes i could find, and headed to Megan and Bryan Rosenkrantz’s wedding reception in San Juan Capistrano. Very nice!
-Left the reception to drive back up to LAX and catch my flight to North Carolina for a week with my folks at the beach house in North Carolina. (thanks Kirsten for all the driving!)
-Am currently waiting to finally get back to California.
