There are places we dream of before we even know they exist. Neuschwanstein was one of mine.

I can’t tell you exactly when I first saw it. Maybe it was on the back of a jigsaw puzzle box, or maybe it was the day I realized Cinderella’s castle had a German cousin. All I know is: the first time I stood in front of Neuschwanstein, with the Bavarian sky dramatically overacting behind it, it felt like coming home to a memory I hadn’t lived yet.

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