Viking reps met us at the Budapest airport and whisked us to our ship, anchored at the city\u2019s iconic Chain Bridge, where a dinner of local favorites awaited: goulash, chicken paprikash, spaetzle (or choose from a menu that rivals that of any tony restaurant), rendered even tastier by the free wine that flows aboard ship every lunch and dinner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After a quick shower in the morning (bathroom benefits include endless towels, heated floors and elite products), we made our way to the dining room (tables of six, no assigned seating) and the only hard choices of the day: a made-to-order omelet or eggs Benedict? Cold cuts, sausages, cheeses, yogurt, fruit, smoked salmon and more promised to gird us for a bus tour of city highlights, beginning in Pest, anchored by its iconic Parliament Building and site of its former ghetto with its synagogue of 1859, the largest in all Europe. Then on across the Danube to hilly Buda, crowned by the frothy marble of St. Matthias Church and Fishermen\u2019s Bastion, where we pause to tour and photograph.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The afternoon offered free time to ramble at leisure (warning: enticing antiques shops) or to sign up for an optional paid tour: Choose among many each day, from biking and hiking to beer tasting and trips to nearby villages.<\/p>\n\n\n
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We upped for the expedition called Life Under Soviet Occupation, which transported us in an authentically wobbly Trabant auto from 1988 (constructed, joked our guide, of cardboard, glue and masking tape). Off we rattled to Memorial Park, a huge collection of larger-than-life statues of Russian heroes including Father Stalin, collected here in remembrance (and ridicule) after Soviet troops pulled out in 1989. Next, a peep into the Budapest Retro Museum, depicting life under those occupiers, with replicas of dreary apartment blocs, TV shows of the times and a \u201970s living room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Our ship pushed quietly through the night into Slovakia, offering a glimpse of its postcard-perfect capitol, Bratislava, as we sailed by during breakfast. It\u2019s a relaxing day on the water today, as we make our way to Vienna. From the sundeck, lush with lounge chairs and a running path for the masochists onboard (I\u2019m one of them) we count the stately swans paddling serenely along the waterway as we slink past dense forests and small towns born of a former era. Too tired tonight for the nightly entertainment in the lounge, we climb under our comforting duvets to dream of Vienna in the morning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vienna! Is this the most opulent, uber-Baroque and ultra-musical city (boasting homeboys Beethoven, Haydn, Mozart, and Mahler) on the planet? I vote yes. We end our panoramic city tour at ground zero, St. Stephen\u2019s Square with its marvelous cathedral, then strike out on our own to bear witness at the city\u2019s somber Holocaust memorial. Famished, we make our way to Caf\u00e9 Central, in business since 1876, where waiters in formal black deliver fancy coffees and crispy schnitzels to customers perusing newspapers attached to long, don\u2019t-sneak-out-with-them sticks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We\u2019re spoiled for choices on our free afternoon: the Opera House tour? The famous Lipizzaner riding school? We settle on the Secessionist Art Museum, noted for works of then-risque painters like Gustav (\u201cThe Kiss\u201d) Klimt and its Beethoven frieze, circling the gallery with earphones to listen to the master\u2019s symphonies while gazing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sailing off to Melk the next morning, we hit the sundeck enroute to its famous abbey of 1289\u2014nine swans a-swimming, church bells a-ringing, as we glide through the Wachau Valley. It\u2019s won fame as the most scenic stretch of the Danube, thanks to the scores of medieval castles dotting the lush, green coastline. Yes, that\u2019s the tower in which Richard the Lion Hearted was imprisoned, narrates Tessa, our tour director, as cameras go into overtime. Then we spy the beyond-ornate abbey itself, where we\u2019ll roam from its opulent Treasury Room to the 100,000-book library to its sweet, gold-and-white church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Salmon, Caesar salad, a cheese plate and chocolate mousse are my choices this evening, before we anchor in Passau\u2014already a notable city 2,000 years ago. We ramble its cobblestone streets, from one artist\u2019s gallery to another, passing its famous Glass Museum and the Executioner\u2019s House (these days, a comedy club) and another St. Stephen\u2019s Cathedral\u2014this one flaunting a brilliant white-and-green dome.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Up next: Regensburg, whose 1,200 UNESCO-protected buildings from the Middle Ages still stand to welcome us, thanks to the town\u2019s lack of importance during WW II (thus, no destructive bombing). One of these houses belonged to Otto Schindler of \u201clist\u201d fame. (Nonetheless, of the town\u2019s 500 Jews, 15 survived.) Under a stone bridge of 1135, we discover a sausage stand and devour our first bratwurst.<\/p>\n\n\n
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Oh-oh! Summer\u2019s lack of rain means the water\u2019s too low to sail onward. Turning on a dime, Viking readies another ship, on call for just such an emergency, to meet us an hour or two later at the point where the river rises again. Yes, we are required to pack up (ugh!) and transfer by bus to the waiting ship, but smiles break out when we\u2019re greeted with flutes of champagne by another lovely crew.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Our morning\u2019s tour of Nurnberg doesn\u2019t spare the decade of the town\u2019s blackest moment in history. We drive by the barracks of the Nazis\u2019 dreaded SS, then set foot in the stadium where Hitler delivered his tirades to the masses. We pass the courtrooms where WWII\u2019s Nurnberg trials took place as we head to the city\u2019s Old Town\u2014overseen by a thousand-year-old castle and its (today, waterless) moat. Descending to the lively market square, we seize a chance to shop for the city\u2019s famous gingerbread and gawk at the glockenspiel atop its church, where figures prance as the clock strikes the hour.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bamberg, with its scores of half-timbered houses, is the next medieval beauty awaiting our discovery. We drop our jaws when confronted with the cheeky mural enrobing city hall, erected on a tiny island amid the river that divides the town. Valiantly we climb upward toward its iconic cathedral, which boasts a life-size statue of a horse and rider within its walls. (Why, you ask? So did we. But nobody knows.) As we make our way downward again, whoops: Rain! Not ordinary rain, but a Noah\u2019s Ark experience. We dodge into a coffeehouse as the streets become rivers. Back on board and dripping, we\u2019re greeted with fresh macarons to raise our spirits–along with lunchtime\u2019s cheeseburgers vying with spaghetti carbonara and Cobb salad. And did I mention\u2026. free wine and beer?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Vineyards cloak the hills as we sail to Wurzburg, where the Residenz of the Prince-Bishop awaits.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His home is reminiscent of Versailles, but with one difference: It\u2019s one window bigger (the show-off!). Atop its grand staircase, a mural by Italian bold-name artist Tiepolo showcases the world\u2019s continents, depicting North America with crocodiles, cannibals and hot chocolate (go figure). The day turns not only rainy but cold\u2014so I purchase the wooliest sweater still on the racks in July.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It cozies me as we next tour Wurzburg, with deadpan-comic Ursula to guide us. (Q, she asks: What do you call a beautiful woman in Wurzburg? A: a tourist.) After the wartime bombing of the town, she pronounces, \u201conly 40 roofs were left.\u201d She points to a butcher\u2019s shop of 1583 and a prison tower called the \u201chole of fear,\u201d then pulls out a photo of Hitler\u2019s SS troops marching right through the half-timbered Market Square where we stand. As a bonus, Ursula invites those who are interested to linger in St. Mary\u2019s Chapel\u2014a former synagogue\u2014 to hear her recollections of the war and its aftermath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI knew nothing of the war year while growing up: They were never mentioned. It was only in 1978 when the truth came out, but now it\u2019s part of every school\u2019s curriculum. Starting in 1215 here, Jews were made to wear a yellow star. Today the town has 80 stumbling stones\u201d embedded in the pavement where Jews were dragged from their houses. \u201cBut back then, nobody talked about it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If any passengers yearned for old-time German cuisine, tonight their dreams came true. Lederhosen-and-dirndl clad waiters delivered platters of braised beef, potato salad, red cabbage, bread dumplings and sauerkraut, served with a side of oom-pah music. Tessa\u2019s ongoing contest to find the longest Grman word spotted on signs as we travelled had reached 43 letters by now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Would there be lengthier tongue-twisters in Koblenz? It boasted one of the land\u2019s largest statues, for sure. Kaiser Wilhelm on his horse anchors the city\u2019s inviting riverside promenade. We were free to wander, and St. Kasimer\u2019s Church beckoned. Slender pink ribs gave a delightful feminine cast to its graceful ceiling\u2014simple and serene. Beyond it, a vast plaza lined with open-air cafes echoed with locals enjoying a summer Saturday. While other Viking passengers climbed to the hilltop castle, I stuck with people-watching as my sport of choice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Cologne greeted us on Sunday. We docked a quarter-mile from its famous cathedral, whose twin spires leapt skyward in the distance. Emperor Nero ruled the city back in Roman times, and left many a trace behind\u2014a Roman wall here, a villa\u2019s mosaic floor there\u2014followed by a dozen Romanesque churches and, finally, that wondrous cathedral itself\u2014the most-visited site in all Germany. It holds, legend has it, the chains of St. Peter and the heads of the Biblical Three Kings secured in a golden casket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mere steps away, the city\u2019s Ludwig Museum contains treasures of a different sort\u2014works of contemporary bold-name artists\u2014Max Ernst, Pablo Picasso, and more American Pop painting than anywhere else on earth. We strolled to the nearby Market Square, then the former Jewish ghetto before hitting the flea market stalls that stretched from the Old Town to our vessel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
During the night they receded into the distance as we floated toward Amsterdam, stopping along the way at Kinderdijk to stroll along a dike through Holland\u2019s ever-present rain to investigate the land\u2019s most celebrated symbol: windmills. Nineteen of them, all in a row.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And then the moment had arrived: the captain\u2019s farewell dinner. We bid goodbye to the many friends we\u2019d made\u2014folks from Ukraine and Iran and Australia, from the Carolinas to Iowa\u2019s Quad Cities to Bloomington, Minnesota. We all agreed on one thing: We\u2019d sign on for another Viking cruise in a heartbeat. To do so yourself, consult Viking River Cruises and start packing.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Covid did its best to curtail travel. But the instant the lockdown eased, visitors ventured back to Europe\u2014at first, hesitant and masked, then in record-setting throngs. All it took were the two most alluring words in the English language\u2014free airfare\u2014to convince me to set off when they popped up in a Viking River Cruise ad.…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":10,"featured_media":201770,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":"","wds_primary_category":278},"categories":[278,141,151],"tags":[17627],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lavendermagazine.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/200992"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lavendermagazine.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lavendermagazine.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lavendermagazine.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/10"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lavendermagazine.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=200992"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/lavendermagazine.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/200992\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":201802,"href":"https:\/\/lavendermagazine.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/200992\/revisions\/201802"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lavendermagazine.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/201770"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lavendermagazine.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=200992"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lavendermagazine.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=200992"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lavendermagazine.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=200992"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}