On my last day in Germany I visited Sanssouci, the summer castle of Frederick the Great from 1747, in Potsdam.  I expected to find the rococo architecture overwrought and tiresome but instead I found it powerfully expressive, an impression enhanced by the drizzly weather and empty grounds, which made it feel as if the place were a marvelous ancient and abandoned city.  The most outstanding feature of the buildings are the much-larger-than-life figural sculptures that grace the pilasters, posts, and roof ridges.  They exceed ornament and become full-blown characters, clinging to another, enchanted world.

The buildings are perfectly grounded in designs by the German landscape architect Peter Joseph Lenne.  In back the main house drops off into terraces growing grapes, plums and figs.  The gardens beyond are laid out simply, on flat lawns, with a grand, central axis to the New Palace, built by Frederick William II in 1769, and curving walkways to smaller but no less striking accessory buildings, like the gilded China House.  The landscape, amazingly, manages to be natural without being romantic (like Hampstead Heath) or picturesque (like Central Park).  Walking the gravel paths, flanked by stately, ancient trees, I felt deeply connected to both the ground and the sky.  And I felt as if I belonged to the place.  With all the recent fuss over royal weddings, it was a curious affirmation.