Ah, Neuschwanstein, as copied by Walt Disney! Ludwig was unquestionably as cracked as the Liberty Bell, but probably not certifiably insane by modern standards. He built castles from his own fortune and irresponsible borrowing, not tax revenue. The doctors who certified him insane had never met him, and it was part of his deposition from the throne for immensely complex political reasons. Bismarck thought it was a shady business, and a lifestyle which ruled out a son and heir probably contributed to it. He was ruled to have committed suicide and didn't actually leave a note signed "the dead guy", but everything else about it was suspicious.
Part of his intention, though, was to provide work for Bavarian workers, and great artists. It may be a fault in me, but I loved the place. The inside is if anything more flamboyant than the outside, with marvellous craftsmanship, and artwork which, if you don't mind a medieval world and Teutonic chivalry which never really existed, is the pinnacle of realism in the days before artists realised they had to leave off what the camera could do better.
I remember sitting in the café halfway up the winding approach road, with two German twin sisters and the boyfriend of one of them. There were a couple of American families there, obviously military, discussing the good and bad points of Germans in carrying voices. The sum total wasn't offensive, but you could have picked out some outrageous moments - just about the way you might talk about anywhere. They didn't realise that those Germans had driven around the US and understood English about as well as anybody, as indeed I do myself. What struck me was that not for a moment did the Germans' expression give away their understanding. You very often can't tell what they are thinking. It wasn't entirely a joke when they called the boyfriend "Prussian", either.
My German mother-in-law (no relation of the above) is ninety this summer, and has just had a cleaning out and full-length stent insertion in her femoral artery. She out-recovered young things of fifty, and when they called her back in to rehab to learn to walk again, she said she was very grateful, as she was only managing a couple of hours at a time. She is rather tiny and very frail, but you can still see the twelve-year-old who was told membership of the Bund Deutsche Mädel (the female Hitler Youth) was compulsory, and said "No".
When my own mother was in her early eighties she had some money, and I suggested she should squander some of it on riotous living. "Go up in an aeroplane" I suggested, and her first reaction was to ask if it would have windows. I said it would, and I was sure we could arrange a window seat if she wanted one. But it emerged that she had flown as a passenger with Sir Alan Cobham's Flying Circus in 1932, and it wouldn't be the same with windows. She flew from the same field where my grandfather saw Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show on September 12, 1904. Here is the poster, exactly where he saw it, and as it was a one-day visit, all I don't know is whether he saw the morning or afternoon performance. He was most disappointed that Miss Oakley wasn't on that tour.