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Tyler Oaks on the Move: Castle Life
“The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.” - St. Augustine
Once, at the ripe young age of eighteen, I went away to work and live in a castle in Austria. I planned to stay a year, but my boyfriend proposed two days before I left. Always one to listen solely to my heart I left Austria only after a few short summer months. Even still, the mountains, lakes and twisted trails had their way with me in the few short months I was there. How could sleeping in the same barracks that the Nazi soldiers once lived in not fuel my imagination? How could I not wake up at sunrise before work to jog along the lake alone or walk through the village in the evening writing poetry in my head?
The closest castle to me now is Castello di Amorosa in the Napa Valley. Sure it’s a winery and it’s not old, but it’s built authentically and even has a genuine torture chamber with a used (!) iron maiden. I like to visit not just for the wine, but because seeing the rough hewn stones of the courtyard and turrets takes me back to other castles I have experienced. From the ruins of Nimrod’s Castle in Israel to the beauty of Warwick’s Castle in England, there is something about walking along walls that speak. From a soiled oubliette to a grand banquet hall, castles breathe the stories of former times into my ears. I walk along in silence, listening only to what the tour guide doesn’t say. If there are ghosts there, I’ve heard them.
Listening to stories both told and untold always inspires me to write, though I never write exactly what I hear and the settings always change. Although I enjoy period pieces I prefer to relate the past to the present; to write characters that breathe now but are connected to those who don’t. Since I’ll never be a princess, and hopefully not a maid, I probably will never live in a castle again. Still, the experience will always be with me, the memories of sitting up in the tower alone to look out over the lake or walking up the mountainside to discover a meadow of wildflowers. It somehow feels right to know that my own story, no matter how minor, will always be mixed in with all the others in the castle both past and present.
