Rheinfels castle sits like a dead pit bull above St. Goar.
Once the biggest and mightiest castle on the Rhine,
Rheinfels rumbles with ghosts from its hard-fought past.
While it withstood a siege of 28,000 French troops in 1692,
the French finally destroyed it a century later.
Today this hollow, but fascinating, shell
offers your best hands-on, ruined-castle experience
on the river.
During the pre-gunpowder glory days of castles,
defenses were better than offenses.
The best way to beat a castle like this
was a long, boring, starve-'em-out siege.
Therefore, a castle needed to be well-stocked
and self-sufficient.
Imagine this courtyard 500 years ago.
It had a bakery, pharmacy, herb garden, livestock, a well,
even a brewery.
During times of peace, a couple hundred people lived here.
But during a siege, as many as 4,000 people
would pack within these walls,
hoping to have enough provisions to outwait their attackers.
For a more real-castle experience,
we're visiting Burg Eltz.
Hiding out for 800 years in a mysterious forest,
it's been left amazingly intact.
This is my favorite castle in all of Europe.
Visitors assemble in the central courtyard,
the common ground of a tiny fortified community.
From here, groups are guided through the castle.
The place is truly authentic, furnished throughout
basically as it was 500 years ago.
That's rare in castles.
Thanks to smart diplomacy and clever marriages,
Burg Eltz avoided wars and was never destroyed.
It's been in the Eltz family for eight centuries.
The present countess loves flowers
and adorns each room with fresh bouquets weekly.
The nobles from three branches of the Eltz family,
who shared this fortification,
met and worked out their problems here,
in the grand gallery.
The decor had meaning.
Since the jester could say anything to the king,
this relief reminded people they should talk freely.
But the "rose of silence" reminded them
that what's said in here should stay private.
The master bedroom was finely decorated
and as comfortable as possible back then.
It came with a toilet, one of 20 in the castle,
each flushed, occasionally, by rain water.
This bed is about 500 years old.
It's built high because hot air rises.
The canopy is romantic now, but back then it was practical.
It kept the heat in and the bugs out.
The castle's 500-year-old wall paintings
help you imagine who lived here.
In the bedroom, the theme,
a festival of phallic and fertility symbols,
hints at a playful and lusty world.
Burg Eltz has a lacy little Gothic chapel.
The paintings and stained glass are also 500 years old.
The chapel was on a lower floor.
Because it was disrespectful to live above the house of God,
the chapel juts out, cleverly filling a bay window.
All these castles are remnants of Europe's feudal system.
Feudalism was the social structure
that came out of the chaos and fragmentation
that followed the fall of Rome.
The Hohensalzburg Fortress
towers 400 feet above the Salzach River.
One of Europe's mightiest castles,
it dominates Salzburg's skyline.
Access is quick and easy from the Old Town by funicular.
Its cannons evoke both threats of centuries past
and the power of Salzburg's rulers.
The courtyard was the main square
of this hilltop community of a thousand --
which could be self-sufficient when necessary.
The well dipped into a rain-fed cistern.
The square was ringed by blacksmiths,
bakers, and craftsmen.
Imagine how expensive this massive fortress was to build,
and it was never really used in battle.
That was the idea.
The guys who paid for it would say it was a good investment --
so foreboding, nobody attacked Salzburg
for a thousand years.
Its ramparts provide the best views of the city.
Surveying the town,
you can imagine Salzburg through the ages.
From the castle, take a stroll
across the forested Mönchsberg Hill
for a breezy respite from the city
and more commanding views.
From Munich,
an hour's drive takes us deep into Southern Bavaria.
It's a timeless land of manicured fields,
painted buildings, content cows,
and characteristic onion-domed churches.
This is a playground for people enjoying the good life
at the foothills of the Alps.
And it's a land of fairy-tale castles.
And the most spectacular,
the castles of King Ludwig II of Bavaria,
aka, "Mad" King Ludwig.
He grew up here in the Hohenschwangau Castle.
Ludwig then built his dream castle,
Neuschwanstein, a 15-minute hike away.
Hohenschwangau Castle, Ludwig's boyhood home,
looks much like it did in 1836.
It's the more lived-in and historic of the two castles,
giving a better glimpse at Ludwig's life.
This is young King Ludwig's bedroom.
And this was his reading chair.
The banquet hall is slathered in epic German myths.
Germany became a single united country only in 1871.
As if to bolster its legitimacy,
this young nation dug deep into its murky medieval past.
These heroes and legends inspired young King Ludwig
to build his fanciful castles,
Richard Wagner to compose his ultraromantic operas,
and Germans to believe their nation
was deeply rooted in history.
Politically, the frustrating reality of young King Ludwig
was to rule, either as a pawn of Prussia or a pawn of Austria,
the two dominant Germanic countries.
Rather than deal with the politics of Munich,
romantic Ludwig escaped here
to the peace and comfort of Hohenschwangau.
Ludwig ruled Bavaria for 23 years
until his death in 1886.
His best friends were Romantic artists,
like the great composer Wagner, whom Ludwig idolized.
Neuschwanstein Castle is just up the hill.
Imagine King Ludwig as a boy, climbing these hills,
dreaming up this ultimate fairy-tale castle.
It looks medieval,
but it's only about as old as the Eiffel Tower.
Built in the late 1800s,
it's a textbook example of the Romantic style,
popular at the time.
The castle's interior is decorated
with misty medieval themes: Brave knights, fair maidens,
and scenes from Wagnerian operas.
Ludwig personified this Romantic age.
Longing for the natural beauty and emotion of an earlier time,
he built his medieval fantasy on the hilltop,
not for defensive reasons, but because he liked the view.
King Ludwig intended to sit on a gold and ivory throne
in the company of six historic kings who were made saints.
The religious Ludwig was fascinated by things Byzantine.
This room is based on the plan of a Byzantine Church.
And the one-ton chandelier
is the shape of a Byzantine crown.
Just a few months after he moved into Neuschwanstein,
Ludwig, who was already planning
to build an even more extravagant castle,
was declared mentally unfit to rule.
Two days later, he was found dead in a lake.
People still debate, was it murder or suicide.
But nobody complains any longer
about the extravagant cost of his fanciful castles.
In fact, within six weeks of his funeral,
tourists were already paying to visit them,
and they're still coming.
A hike up to the stark and brooding ruins of Ehrenburg Castle
provides a striking contrast to Ludwig's fantasy castles.
Historian Armin Walsh
is spearheading a project excavating and developing
what he calls an ensemble of castles,
which will create a unique open-air museum.
-We have an ensemble of castles,
four elements built in different periods.
We start here in the Middle Age
with Ehrenburg.
We have a Gothic element in the valley.
We have a Baroque castle
and we have a brand-new fortification system
of the 18th century.
We're visiting two castles of the ensemble,
the 13th-century Ehrenburg
and, higher on the right, the 17th-century Schlosskopf.
This is a very strategic place
because it lies on the 2,000-year-old
Via Claudia Augusta.
This is a road through the Alps
which connected Venezia, Italy with Germany,
and this road was in the Middle Age
very important because it transported salt,
the white gold.
Anyone who controlled the castles controlled the trade,
though in the Middle Age,
they had to find the perfect hilltop to build the castle.
A steep hike takes us up to the bigger and more modern
Schlosskopf Castle, which Armin and his crew
have just recently started uncovering.
Well, Rick, two years ago,
nobody in this town knew, or only few people knew,
that there was a fortification on top of the hill.
Two years ago you couldn't see anything.
It was covered with trees.
So you shaved this off?
We shaved it. We cleaned it.
It was completely covered with trees.
So from Reutte you couldn't see anything.
[ Laughter ]
Whoa, all right.
13th-century castles like Enrenburg
were built with tiny walls, high towers on hills
because of the defense system of the Middle Age.
Then they invented cannons.
Cannons made this kind of architecture destroyable.
This became clear in the early 1700s
when, by cover of darkness,
local Tyrolians wheeled two cannon up here
and pulverized Ehrenberg Castle,
which was occupied by their enemies, the Bavarians.
From this point on,
Ehrenberg-style castles were obsolete,
and cannon-proof castles like Schlosskopf became the norm.
Schlosskopf was built in 1741.
Now we see the difference in architecture and fortification.
They build here a fortification system 250 meters long,
thick walls, eight-meter thick walls,
tunnels, everything,
a real fortification system for cannons.
-Modern warfare.
Modern warfare.
-Meeting Europeans like Armin, so connected to their heritage
and satisfied with their life's work,
is one of the fundamental charms of European travel.