2 Questions Every Girl is Asking Herself

Chapter 72

I go on alone to wealthy, ample Barcelona, that famous Catalan town with its celebrated Antoni Gaudi architecture, where the most whimsical rainforest lived inside a church, and mystical dragon slayers hopped across every rooftop.

My favorite house in all of Barcelona has to be Casa Batllo, designed by Gaudi. It looks like a toy house inhabited by Smurfs fished up from under the sea. It's blue. The enormous second-floor windows looked like bones and jaws. The fourth and fifth floor had masks for balustrades. On the seventh floor, the tippity top of the house, was a single garret window and a tiny balcony where a princess could emerge any moment.

People say Casa Batillo is inspired by the legend of Saint George the dragon slayer. Long long ago, the peaceful Kingdom of Catalonia was plague by a fiery dragon, who likes to eat human flesh. Every day the King makes a draw, and the unlucky winner is sent to the dragon for dinner. One day, the draw came out, but the tribute was none other than the King's own daughter, the Princess. That night, the Princess stood on the balcony, crying, as she prepared for her untimely death. Just then, Saint George of the neighboring kingdom hears of the Princess' tragic fate and comes immediately to the rescue. He hops onto his trusted steed and gallops straight into the depth of the forest. After three days and three nights of bloody battle, the dragon was slain. The Princess and the kingdom were saved. A masquerade was held to celebrate Saint George's victory; wine and dancing and confetti flying everywhere, blue and green, splattering onto the façade of Casa Batllo, which under the artful brush of Antoni Gaudi became hundreds of colored mosaics that shimmered prettily in the light.

But it's not just the outside that's bursting with imagination with Casa Batllo; on the inside, it's tortoise shell skylights, walls of undulating ocean waves, fireplace tucked inside a mushroom, and winding staircase shaped like the dragon's spine, dear God, the dragon's spine...

When Gaudi was in architecture school, he often criticized that education was devoid of creativity, and many of his opinions caused controversy. Ultimately, he was granted a degree, but barely. "Gaudi is either a genius, or a madman," said his school director.

While Casa Batllo was being built between 1904-1906, Gaudi presided over the construction of the house. He went through great length of avoiding the use of straight lines, anywhere, so everything has an underwater swaying feel to it. Standing on the street, Passeig de Gràcia, Gaudi would fuss over every minute detail - even the placement of the mosaic tile chips on the façade, so the color gradient changed just so.

After Barcelona, I went up to the Bavarian forest to see the great Neuschwanstein Castle, also known as the New Swan Castle/Disney Castle. High up on the rugged hill above the village of Hohenschwangau, the Neuschwanstein stood majestically in ribbons of mist and cloud. A fan of swans and legends of medieval knighthood, King Ludwig II wanted to see his fairy tales willed into reality. No matter what it took. He devoted his personal fortune and nearly 20 years to the realization of this fantasy, but died before it was completed.

After a steep climb, I'm finally at the foot of the castle. I take a picture.

I walk through the wooden gate of this masterpiece of medieval romanticism, my heart tumbles with a love I can't answer or explain as I notice the attention to detail paid to each chamber, the Tristan-and-Isolde themed master bedroom, the swan sinks, swan faucets, swan fountains, the golden swan doorknobs.

I wanted to take in everything. There's so much to see. Every tower, every window, every painted scene of legend and poetry. Even long after he's gone, his love for fairy tales pulsed through the walls.

People called him the Fairy Tale King.

After Germany, I travel to Austria. On a morning walk through the green meadows of Salzburg, I'm listening to Jay Chow's "Simple Love." I sit down on the bench, beneath the shade of oak trees.

When I hold your hand I'm touched by a feeling I can't explain

I want to take you back to my grandma's home

I want to watch the sunset together until we fall asleep

Listening to his breezy melody, I wonder if he wrote the song in a place like this. In the countryside meadows, near his grandma's house, where the grasses are so green, and the sky is cloudless.

I felt so close to him. And I felt close to Gaudi, to the Fairy Tale King. Even though I've never met them, but I felt them through their art. The details of their creative endeavors spilled forth in my memory, and I felt surrounded by the collective goodwill of so many mighty souls.

I am not alone.

Because there are enough straight lines in this world, because we need more doorknobs shaped like swans.