At last, the story can be told: Yes, I took a Viking River Cruise.
It wasn’t necessarily my choice, but it was important that I did it, for reasons I’ll explain. And one thing I learned while planning the trip is that as much as I apologized for doing such a bougie thing, my friends immediately reacted with great interest and curiosity.
Apparently, all those ads on PBS have paid off. We’re all captivated by the images of a ship serenely sliding past castles while people hop into town to watch women in peasant costume pull bread out of ovens.
So I promised, repeatedly, to tell everyone about it when I got back.
First, let me explain that cruises and I have a distant relationship. As a features writer for a daily newspaper, I was once assigned to take a Bahamas cruise on Carnival. All my co-workers could just stuff those frowns right back into their face holes, because it wasn’t my choice. Read the operative word: ASSIGNED.
The story was about the new cruises being offered out of Charleston and the money to take a basic cruise had been budgeted (back when newspapers still had budgets, at least for travel sections that raked in lots of money for cruise-line advertising). But the travel editor despised cruises. Since I was the food editor and – truth here – most cruises are about eating, an editor called me over and proposed that I go in the travel editor’s place. You know, she said, write about the food and whether someone such as yourself who isn’t really the cruise type can find happiness on a cruise.
I learned many things on that cruise. Most importantly, I learned that Carnival operates floating frat houses and that I would no more spend my own money to experience that again then I would voluntarily go back to Florida State to attend a rush party at Delta Tau Drunkard.
Not all cruise companies are going after the same audience, though. An ocean cruise on, say, a cruise line named for a Scandinavian country is far less frat-housey than one named for a state fair midway.
Which brings us back to Viking. Viking’s marketing is to identify itself with “affordable luxury” and the idea that you’ll be with smart people who watch PBS just like your own cultured self.
The reason I took this cruise, Viking’s 8-day Rhine River sojourn, was personal. It was my sister’s dream, she was turning 70, and we’ve now lost all of our family except each other, so we needed to do something for us. Our trip also included an additional Viking excursion to Oxford that included a visit to Highclere Castle, home of “Downton Abbey,” which also showed me why these European river cruises can be a good thing: The only frat boys in Oxford are very well behaved.
So, what I learned:
My fellow cruisers predominantly fell into a specific demographic: Over age 70, Caucasian, and mostly conservative (beware of table conversation that veers toward politics.) On my cruise, with about 180 people, there were two African-American couples, including a sweet man in his 70s who wore a stocking cap emblazoned with “Da Bronx” and a middle-aged man who stuck to himself, probably trying to avoid the constant bright-eyed white people who were eager to make his acquaintance.
There were a handful of people younger than 40, mostly escorting older/elderly parents. The youngest woman was with a husband who appeared to be twice her age (but that made for great people-watching). One group of women in their 40s/50s were traveling together as a girls’ trip and kept the bar busy. But yes, mostly, it’s a gray-haired bunch, and well-heeled enough to be able to afford affordable luxury.
The bar on the ship is nicely stocked, there are late-afternoon receptions (usually with passed kir royals and appetizers) and after-dinner games and dancing. With some research, you can find genuinely interesting food experiences on shore. Some of my best moments were sneaking away from the excursions while the ship was docked and enjoying little German towns like Breisach, where I sat in a beer garden by the river on a perfect Sunday afternoon, and Koblenz, where I found a small shop making local-produce schnapps that will banish peppermint schnapps from my memory forever. (I also found a shop that makes nothing but caramels, and if you see it, please send me more.)
While there are options for the fit and eager, like bike excursions and climb-the-tower outings, they also make it easy to get around for people with walkers, canes and, in the case of one man, breathing apparatus. You do have to be able to handle the steps up into a tour bus, and there are always cobblestones and uneven pavement. (It’s Europe, you’re there for the cobblestones.) But they set up a special tour group, (code-name “Leisurely”) for people who couldn’t walk far or fast. My sister has mobility issues, so that allowed her to see the sites with less effort while I scampered off with a clear conscience.
I saw a tip beforehand that you need to be able to walk about 2 miles in 20 minutes to keep up with walking tours, and that was about right. I logged from 4 to 6 miles on a couple of days, but most tours were less than 2 miles.
You’re not just paying to sleep and eat on a comfortable, tastefully decorated Viking boat (isn’t it good – lots of Norwegian wood). The reason to go is getting off the boat. Viking packs enough clout that they can give you access to things. You have a variety of free (included) shore excursions and paid ones. You’ll want to study the catalog carefully to pick a couple of paid ones, but leave yourself time to just hang on the ship when everyone else is gone, too.
In the towns along the Rhine, particularly Cologne, Heidelberg and Strasbourg, Viking hires freelance tour guides who work with them regularly. Tour guide is a serious job in those towns, and everybody wants to work with Viking because they pay well and they’re regular. You mostly get people who know the ground they’re covering. (Keep a few Euro coins handy to tip them and your bus driver. They won’t get to share in the bigger tip you leave for the staff on the boat.)
My best experiences were with a young woman who led the day-long eating tour of Strasbourg (the priciest excursion, and worth it) and a fantastic professional beer waiter (called a kobe) who led our beer-drinking tour of Cologne.
When we signed up for the extra excursion to Oxford, we got welcomed to Highclere Castle by Lady Carnarvon herself, and we got taken into Blenheim Palace an hour before it opened to the general public. Viking hath privilege.
Viking also hath efficiency: As long as you’re with them, they smooth out things like hotel reservations, airport/train transfers and bus transportation. Even after our Viking itinerary ended, when my sister and I continued on our own around England, I got emails from my cruise rep to see if we were safely home yet.
One caveat: When Viking booked my flight from the U.S. (a perk that comes with buying the cruise), they charged me a $100 fee to make my return flight after the official end of my tour. I still saved enough on the flight to make it worthwhile.
You spend as much time off the boat as on it. With a few exceptions, like the popular cruise through the castle-and-vineyard section of the middle Rhine, they mostly cruise at night, so you wake up at your next destination. (Worth getting up for: Going through locks. There were 11, and I’m a logistics geek. Some people actually stayed up and had lock parties to watch.) The operations of the boat are intriguing for engineering geeks like me: The wheelhouse on the top deck is on a hydraulic lift, so when they go under a low bridge, it actually drops into a hidden “hole” in the ship (it’s right behind the Viking goddess painting) and they remote-pilot from a small console on the deck. Cool!
The other fascinating part is watching the life of the river you’re on. My cruise was on the Rhine, the border between France and Germany that’s like an aquatic interstate highway. You’ll learn a lot about European commerce just by watching what floats past you. (Note the car and playground equipment on the back of many cargo ships: Some people raise their families traveling up and down the Rhine.)
Before we left, we had heard horror stories about low and high river levels. You can follow the progress of ships on a handy website, www.rivercruiseadvisor.com (it’s also got great price comparisons on all the river cruise lines). In general, the Rhine tends to be high in the spring, while the Danube tends to be low in the fall. But even if you have to get transferred to another ship, most people note that they got to see more of the countryside and any hotel accommodations involved were nice places. My advice: It’s travel, people. Stay Zen and it generally turns out fine.
While your itinerary includes the city you depart from (in our case, Basel, Switzerland) and the one you arrive in (Amsterdam), they’re wasted cities on your list unless you schedule in time to actually see them. We arrived in Basel in the afternoon, so jet-lagged and in a pouring rain that the idea of striking out to actually see Basel was folly. Tour veterans know that and several had arranged to arrive the day before and stay in a hotel. You can board the boat and join a walking tour early in the day. That’s definitely the way to go.
The same thing happened at the end of the tour. I wasted advance tickets to the Anne Frank House because my tour rep didn’t warn me that while we arrived in Amsterdam overnight and our flight to Heathrow wasn’t until 2:30 p.m., we wouldn’t be allowed to leave the ship. You have to put out your luggage for transfer at 8:30 a.m., then cool your heels until your airport transportation arrives (in our case, at 11:30 to meet the 3-hour international-departure rule at the airport). I’ll consider those tickets a donation to Anne Frank’s memory.
Some people opted for an add-on Viking stay in Amsterdam, while others simply booked their own room and planned to stick around. Luckily, our bus driver for the airport took pity and gave us an off-the-record driving tour through Amsterdam, or I wouldn’t have seen anything beyond the dock.
As usual, I procrastinated and by the time I did it, we only had two choices: The lower-level cheap rooms (Deck 1) and a very nice/very pricey suite on Deck 3, the highest level, with two rooms and a balcony (aw, gee). It was very comfortable, but if I did it again, I’d aim for the Deck 2 staterooms. They’re big enough for two people and most come with a small balcony, fun places to sit when you go through a lock or want to just gaze for a while.
Deck 2 is the most convenient because it’s the same level with the dining room and the entry to the ship. There’s an elevator, but it only runs between Deck 2 and Deck 3, where the lounge and outdoor terrace are.
Deck 1 is less expensive, but everyone I talked to who had a room there wasn’t thrilled. The windows are high up, right at water level, and they can be claustrophobic. You’re also stuck climbing a lot of stairs.
I’m a food writer, after all, and as noted earlier: Cruises are rolling restaurants.
The food was . . . fine. I’ve had more high-end dining experiences than the most people, and I try to remember that my expectation dial is set a little higher. (I go to 11.) For the most part, Viking’s food on ship was well-prepared hotel food, always good but not always imaginative.
Breakfast is the best, with an omelet station, two kinds of bacon (crispy for Americans, “raw” for the British Isles people), healthier choices including yogurt and oatmeal, plus a short menu of indulgences like Benedicts and pancakes. If you can handle raw fish in the morning, there are always several selections, and Viking owner Torstein Hagen is famously fanatical about offering a particularly high-quality cured salmon on every ship. So don’t skip that.
Lunch is simple, usually with a good soup, several salads and sandwich options. Dinner comes with menu options, like steak and such on the nightly menu, a regional menu that includes traditional dishes from wherever you’re docked, and chef specials that cover a wide range. You can pick and choose among them.
Watch the wine list at the bottom carefully: There are usually two complimentary (free) options and two that you pay for separately. It’s easy to miss the fine print on that.
Otherwise, the most interesting food experiences were usually off the ship, on my own. It’s worth doing a little research in advance if you’re food-centric. (Definitely spring for coffee and strudel at Café Reichard, across from Cologne Cathedral.)
My bottom line on whether a Viking river cruise was worth it: Go on in. The water is surprisingly fine.