Chiemsee Unveiled: A Journey Through Bavaria’s Hidden Island.
When I finally visited Paris last year, I had dreamed of touring the Palace of Versailles. Life, however, had other plans. Though that wish remained unfulfilled, it led me to an unexpected treasure: Chiemsee Island in Bavaria.
Back in Germany, a friend suggested I visit Herrenchiemsee, a name I had never heard before. Intrigued, I set off early in the morning, taking a train to a small Bavarian village. The landscape was lush and serene, a stark contrast to the restless energy of city life. Rain drizzled as I stepped off the train, only to discover I had missed the bus. In this quiet village, buses came only once an hour, patience, it seemed, was part of the adventure. Determined not to miss the ferry, I followed Google Maps through winding lanes, umbrella in hand. In hindsight, missing that bus was a blessing. The walk led me through a postcard-perfect hamlet, its charm magnified by misty meadows and the rhythmic patter of rain.
At the docks, I boarded a ferry alongside fellow travelers. The lake stretched vast and calm, its gentle waves mirroring the overcast sky. As we neared the island, a steady rain continued to fall. Disembarking, we had a choice: walk to the palace or take a horse-drawn carriage for five euros. I chose the latter, finding myself seated opposite an elegant elderly woman. Her warm smile reminded me of my grandmother in Uganda.
“How did a young man from Uganda end up here?” she asked, curiosity twinkling in her eyes.
As our Bavarian horses clopped along, we spoke of life, of journeys taken and paths yet to be walked. She shared her story, how she had left for America at 19, built a family, and returned to Munich after her husband passed. Though her name has since faded from memory, her grace, resilience, and quiet wisdom have not.
Then, the palace emerged through the mist. Ludwig II’s unfinished homage to Versailles loomed majestically, its grandeur undiminished by time. Ornate fountains danced on manicured lawns, while inside, the palace dazzled with opulent gold-leafed furniture, a Hall of Mirrors, and portraits of Ludwig and his fiancée, Duchess Sophia Charlotte. Their crimson robes, displayed beside a portrait, whispered of royal aspirations and lost love. Even in the rain, the gardens stretched toward the lake, a testament to Ludwig’s fleeting joy here.
After marveling at the palace, I wandered into the former monastery, now a museum. One room left me awestruck: a floor-to-ceiling fresco so precious that visitors stood on a raised platform, unable to touch even the floor. The weight of history deepened as I moved through chambers where, in 1948, Germany’s post-war constitution was drafted. Each room felt like a bridge between past and present, an echo of voices that once shaped a nation.
The day ended with a stroll past the royal stables, where majestic horses stood tall, a quiet contrast to the extravagance of the palace. As I boarded the ferry back, the rain still falling, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. Chiemsee had given me more than sights to admire; it had offered moments of connection, a brush with history, and a stillness that settled deep within.
This island is a sanctuary, a place where missed buses lead to unexpected encounters, and where history breathes in every stone. If you ever find yourself in Bavaria, venture to Chiemsee. Buy that ticket, brave the rain, and let its magic unfold. It’s a story waiting to nestle in your heart, just as it has in mine.
See you on the next one,
Fred Agaba