Bus Ride to Schwangau (The Shoal of Bavarian Fish)

Max Warshaw


2nd Year M.Arch II

Kay Curtis


5th Year M.ARch



The bus jostles.

Close to my eyes, hues of green blur past making it indiscernible to read what is only feet away.

Further out I can hold my gaze on blades of grass, wildflowers, and tufts of earth. The darkest of the greens reserved for the forests in the distance provides texture to the far-away terrains. They share our view for only a moment.

Stout Bavarian farmhouses are planted along the road like fish swimming towards an unfamiliar destination. The larger schools seem desperate to stick together but there are always a few alone, defiant but heading down the same path as the rest.

They are clad in dark wood, white stucco, and are always preceded by a wooden fence or a few unimpressed cows.


The windows are ornate but not gaudy, softened by the gentlest white curtain behind. If there are shutters, they are the same deep green color of the forests blanketing the hills. Topped by reddish-orange tiles almost the color of Arizona dirt, they’ve arranged themselves like scales on an all-too-perfect fish. For the rest of the ride there is little variation in our aquatic traveling companions.

The rain comes, coating all in a film of water, changing the colors. The reflections on the roof tiles now allow you to see the heavens, instead of acting as a means of obstructing that view. Distant mountains are the grey silhouettes of giants, but the skies around us are particularly clear and blue.

These showers are faint and I can tell they are warm, even with a glass pane between us. The rain stops and a grainy voice declares the station, once in German and once in English.

I remain.