Some say Ludwig II was a genius. For others, the king was mad. The vast castle he built is yet far from ruined. Though when the time comes, the pile will be huge.

“And the dungeons beneath?” a friend asked after I posted yet another photo like the one above on social media. Since I left the Isle of Myth a year and a half ago, base town is across the river from Bavaria’s most famous castle. In reply I recited a local legend:

An old man lives outside the village in the castle’s shadow. He is blind and frail, so doesn’t often leave his hovel. But if you bring him a bottle of single malt and tell him stories of daring adventures of youth, he’ll tell you to go, on a winter’s day, to the bridge behind the castle. Bouncing planks take you high above a gorge. Cool mist rises from a laughing cascade below. It brings an odor of pine and earth. The sun at its zenith reaches deep between two central towers. There, dazzling rays reveal to the keen observer a cavernous portal of unknown depth, into which few have ventured and from which none have returned.