As a kid, my treehouse was my castle: no parents reining me in, a ladder that pulled up, and nails sticking down through the ceiling — just long enough to keep out bullies taller than me. With my sliding tongue-in-groove panels, I could see who was coming. My refuge was the envy of other little kings.
The treehouse is long gone, but I still tap into that king-of-the-castle feel when I visit fortified towns in Europe, where thick stone walls that once protected citizens from enemies now corral Old World charm. Recently, I wrote about my favorite fortified towns.
If you’ve been to a great fortified town that you think I should check out, let me know!
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