Drama Queens and Fever Dreams

By the time we get to Munich, the cold sopping spring has turned to a sultry summer—in like a lion, out like a lamb shank, meat falling right off the bone. Sunbathers in the Englischer Garten lie sanguine and naked in the grass. But instead of joining them in Edenic glory, my boyfriend Nick and I choose a two-and-a-half hour train ride to the Austrian border for a tour of Neuschwanstein Castle. A stuffy shuttle and surprisingly taxing hike later, we stand in King Ludwig II’s courtyard, waiting for our tour group to be called.