My First European River Cruise In 1996 VS Now

First European River Cruise

By Ted Scull.

I loved my first European river cruise in 1996 along the vineyard-fringed Moselle and the romantic Rhine south to Basel just across the border in Switzerland.

The Moselle River town of Zeller. * Photo: Ted Scull

The towns, cities and scenery were mostly new to me back then, and I found them wonderfully intriguing with their medieval layouts and highly varied architecture. Beautiful autumnal colors lined the steep hillsides of the Moselle, and Berkastel-Kues perfectly fit the portrait of a tiny fortified medieval river town. Koblenz, at the junction of the Moselle and Rhine, afforded wonderful hilltop views of the two rivers snaking away. Mainz, Speyer and Worms were architecturally-rich cathedral cities, while Rudesheim was cute but a bit too touristy compared to the other towns.

View up the Rhine in autumn. * Photo: Ted Scull

When I look back through 20 years of river cruises, I am thrilled how immensely improved they are in providing less rigidity, more options and additional amenities. There are more choices of itineraries and riverboat styles, but with river cruising’s popularity, there are also boatloads more people and many more riverboats vying for the same landing docks. Fortunately, in my experience, almost every town or city has offbeat neighborhoods to explore to get away from the milling wanderers.

My first cabin was on a lower deck so when I stood up and looked out the window my eyes were level with the river, and if a barge or boat slid by in the opposite direction, the wash and wake obliterated the view for a bit. It was a little like living in a fish bowl, comfortable and fine for sleeping, but not for lingering. I spent the day, when not ashore, going up for air to see what was happening along both shores, ahead and astern.

A typical cabin, simply furnished with beds at right angles. * Photo: Ted Scull

A typical cabin, back then, simply furnished with beds at right angles. * Photo: Ted Scull

Table seating was assigned for meals and that meant during the week aboard dining with the same people 21 times. The discussions with my group settled on how foreign everything was compared to home, or about the strange washing machines or the unfamiliar menu terms. Two tablemates loved bombarding the stewardess, “What’s this and what that?” uttered with a certain relish. One actually said, “I wonder when we will see the first McDonalds.” It was increasingly frustrating when I meet other more interesting passengers, some Americans and many Europeans, yet could not join them at the table.

The meals were quite wonderful, but they were served course by course, so it was tedious to have to sit through a three-course lunch and then a four-course dinner. Sure, I could ask for just one course at lunch such as the main entrée, but it came only after the first course had been served and cleared away.

There was no buffet to pick at, eat lightly and head up to the deck to watch the world of Germany go by.

So as one might have surmised, two decades back there was no alternate dining place for a light meal and we weren’t able to eat up on deck in nice weather to escape dreary tablemates. An elaborate afternoon tea was served on deck, however. That was a culinary treat with a view and more interesting company.

When we went ashore, and other riverboats were in port, the guides often had to shout over each other while talking to their flocks. Today, of course, you can plug the guide’s narration into your ear and even wander a bit away from the group and still hear the commentary.

There were no presentations on board, just instructions when to disembark to meet the guide, as the ship carried only a cruise director who had a slew of duties.

Internet was available in cafés ashore, but nothing like this existed on board, so sometimes one had to choose between connecting with personal affairs back home instead of taking the tour. There were no TVs aboard, so given how much always seems to be happening in the world, I had to rely on finding a newspaper during the river port calls.

I was on a ship in mid-Atlantic when 9/11 happened and on the upper Columbia-Snake when Northern California, where my brother’s family lived, experienced a major earthquake. On the former, the line generously offered Internet access, and on the later, the boat actually called at a remote island park where a telephone booth was located. My family was fine, though others not so, and my hometown of New York, well we all know what happened there.

Wine and beer were not included with lunch and dinner, as it often is now, and it was a pain to remember whose turn it was.

One happy aspect to river cruising back when there were fewer boats on the water was the lack of having to raft alongside or between other boats at landings, and then having to walk through other boats or have others walk through yours to get ashore and back on board. Some people now take advantage of the seemingly open house opportunity, and plop down; so there goes our privacy.

The two-deck riverboat of the past often had lower deck cabins at the waterline and French balcony units above. Photo: Ted Scull

The three-deck riverboat of the past often had lower deck cabins at the waterline and French balcony units above. Photo: Ted Scull

Riverboats then were comfortable conveyances while today many offer alternatives and amenities that the deep-sea cruise ships do. I don’t need pampering and fussy luxury frills, but I do like an alternative to the main dining venue, open sitting, wine with dinner, lectures on board and Internet access, though I do not expect it to be constantly available. I like a cabin with sliding doors or windows to allow in fresh air, but I need not have a true balcony, as when you are sitting on it, you have no idea what is happening on the other side.

I would rather be on the top deck with a 360-degree view, perched like an eagle not wanting to miss anything. A splash pool is a plus, though hardly necessary, and spas leave me cold but not for others, and a gym is a welcome amenity but I now prefer to borrow one of the ship’s bicycles and lark out, especially if I already know the place from a previous visit.

So, 29 river cruises on five continents later, with 8 in Europe, I am thinking ahead to Number 30 and an ever widening contrast to the first even if I don’t partake of everything offered or book the largest cabin.