Miramare Castle

TRIESTE. In light of the thorns, spiders, wolf traps and ankle-breaking descents of the ancient path to the Miramare Castle, it was something of a relief to finally sit by the fountain in the forecourt before the ostentatious, neo-gothic façade of the castle itself. And this despite the hundreds of children on school excursions, running through the gardens.

The castle is certainly more impressive architecturally than the one at Duino (though I preferred the latter, on account of the Rilke factor). Like many, it is supposedly haunted; it is said that some mischief will befall anyone who spends the night inside. The reason for this haunting has particular historical resonance; it is due in some part to the fate of the founder of the castle, and also that of his successor, who both died in unfortunate circumstances; but more famously, the Archduke Franz Ferdinand spent the night here on his way to Sarajevo, where he was assassinated (the catalyst for WWI).

The library, though, was to die for, and had my train not been leaving that night, I might’ve contrived to get locked in after closing time, as I did accidentally in the gardens at Duino. Dark wooden bookshelves with priceless editions stacked high to the ceiling, an old-school giant globe, marble busts of Homer, Virgil, Shakespeare and Goethe, a sculpture of Dedalus attaching wings to Icarus, a sumptuous desk, and all overlooking the silk blue sheet of the Adriatic sea.