Hotel NH Amsterdam Schiller

On our own, Canal stroll

Amsterdam on the first day deserves to be taken slowly — and that is exactly what we did. Fresh off the journey, we resisted the urge to fill every hour and instead wandered around Rembrandtplein, the lively square anchored by the great bronze statue of Rembrandt himself, surrounded by café terraces and the particular buzz of a city that always seems to have somewhere to be.

From there we followed the canals to find Amsterdam's quieter face — narrow bridges, houseboats moored in a row, bicycles everywhere, the tall gabled facades leaning gently toward the water. No agenda, no museums, no rush.

Hop-on Hop-off, Canal cruise, Indonesian dinner

Rather than packing an itinerary, we let the city come to us — boarding the Hop-on Hop-off bus and simply riding, watching the canal houses and bridges and bicycles go by at a pace that felt right after a long journey.

The bus did its job beautifully, delivering glimpses of the Rijksmuseum, the Jordaan, the flower market, and the grand sweep of the Amstel without demanding anything of us in return. We hopped off where the mood struck and hopped back on without guilt.

Dinner was a genuine discovery — a local Indonesian restaurant that reminded us Amsterdam has one of the great Indonesian food traditions outside Indonesia itself, a legacy of its colonial past now thoroughly its own. The rijsttafel spread was the perfect welcome meal.

Viking Einar, Central Station, This is Holland

Today the real journey began. We joined the Viking welcome tour at the passenger terminal and boarded the Einar — our home for the next two weeks — taking in the ship before heading out to explore the neighborhood around Amsterdam Centraal.

The area around the station is one of Amsterdam's great crossroads, perpetually busy and full of life, with the waterfront stretching out behind it. On a whim we decided to cross over to "This is Holland" — the immersive fly-over experience that sweeps you above tulip fields, the coast, and the Delta works in a way that felt like a fittingly Dutch way to kick off the trip. Windmills from the air before we'd seen them from the ground.

Back to the Einar in the evening for our first dinner on board. The ship felt settled and welcoming, and the anticipation of the days ahead was palpable. Tomorrow we head to Kinderdijk.

Crossing the dike this morning, we noticed the ship sitting visibly higher than the fields ahead — much of this part of The Netherlands lies below sea level, and the reality of that hits you immediately.

Nineteen windmills, built in the mid-18th century, line the polder landscape in what is the largest concentration in the country. We stepped inside a working mill — still operated by a family required to keep it running — and saw the original wooden gears and mechanics up close. Remarkable that it all still turns.

A quiet, humbling morning. The Dutch didn't just build windmills — they built dry land.

We walked into Cologne this morning along streets that have followed the same patterns since Roman times — a city that layers its history visibly, century upon century, right beneath your feet.

Our guide brought the old quarter to life with tales of Tünnes and Schääl, the beloved local folklore figures, and shared the story of Cologne's once-thriving Jewish community. Passing the graceful silhouette of St. Martin's church in Old Cologne, we made our way toward the cathedral — and nothing quite prepares you for the moment it fills the skyline.

The Kölner Dom is simply immense. Construction began in 1248 and stretched across seven centuries before completion. The largest Gothic cathedral in Northern Europe, its twin spires soar above the city and its stained-glass windows glow even under a grey sky. What stopped us cold, though, was learning that it survived the Allied bombing that leveled much of the city around it — standing almost alone amid the rubble. A remarkable building, and a complicated kind of miracle.

Mark (Jenny's brother), Sabine & his friend Peter & his girlfriend came to see use from Bonn for a special afternoon with a few Kölsch's and a visit to the chocolate museum near the dock.

Morning — Koblenz

We began the morning at Deutsches Eck — the German Corner — where the Rhine and Moselle converge in a dramatic wedge of land. The equestrian statue of Emperor Wilhelm I dominates the point, and standing there with two great rivers flowing past on either side feels genuinely historic.

From there we wandered the narrow streets to Jesuitenplatz in the heart of the Old Town. The square's centerpiece is a beautiful old school building that has served as Koblenz's City Hall since 1895. Our guide wove together the city's long story — Roman foundations, medieval layers, Napoleonic influence — all visible if you know where to look.

Evening — Rüdesheim

The evening belonged to Rüdesheim. We boarded a mini-train down to the Drosselgasse — a narrow medieval lane lined with wine bars and taverns — and stepped straight into an oom-pah-pah version of the Rhine at its most festive.

Dinner was a full-course affair at one of the town's oldest restaurants, where the kitchen takes an earth-to-table approach that puts the Rheingau's wines and flavors at the center of every plate. Traditional music, good company, and to close it all out — Schnapps vom Brett, served off a wooden board and not to be refused. A hearty Prost! to a memorable night.

Take a leisurely stroll around Koblenz and explore its historic past.

Speyer carries its history with quiet confidence. We walked into a city that has been sacked, rebuilt, and shaped by some of the defining moments of European history — and somehow still feels whole.

The cathedral stopped us in our tracks. Built of deep red sandstone and crowned by six towers, it is the largest of Germany's three great Romanesque imperial cathedrals and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Eight Holy Roman Emperors are entombed within its walls. Louis XIV's troops left it in ruins in 1689, but it was painstakingly rebuilt — and standing before it today, that survival feels like an act of stubbornness on behalf of history itself.

Our guide also pointed out that this city may have given Protestantism its very name — in 1529, the "Protestation at Speyer" was drafted here, with citizens and royalty asserting their right to worship as they chose. We passed the old Jewish courtyard, once home to one of medieval Europe's most significant synagogues, and the Altpörtel — the Old Gate, the lone survivor of the city's original fortifications. A stroll down the shop-lined main street rounded out the morning nicely.

Strasbourg defies easy categorization — and that is precisely its charm. We drove first through the German Imperial District and the European Quarter, past the institutions that make this city the political heart of a united continent, before heading into an older, quieter Strasbourg entirely.

Petite France was the highlight of the morning. The former Tanners' District, wrapped by the Ill River and laced with canals, is the kind of neighborhood that seems almost too picturesque to be real — half-timbered houses, footbridges, and defensive towers reflected in still water. We passed the Old Customs House and lingered on the canal bridges before making our way to Cathedral Square.

The cathedral is extraordinary. Built of the same warm red sandstone we saw in Speyer, it was the tallest building in the world from 1647 to 1874. We had free time to take in the great Gothic rosette window, the ornate portal, and the famous astronomical clock — a marvel of medieval engineering that still marks the hours. A city that has passed between France and Germany more than once, Strasbourg seems to have taken the best of both and made something entirely its own.

Today we left the river behind and drove into the Schwarzwald — the Black Forest — and it is every bit as fabled as the name suggests. Dense fir trees rising on all sides, wine villages nestled into soft rolling hills, vineyards spilling down the slopes of southwestern Germany. The landscape feels lifted straight from a fairy tale.

Our panoramic route wound through the region before climbing to the Hofgut Sternen, a beautiful hilltop hotel and a devoted keeper of Black Forest traditions. There we could choose our own adventure: a walk in the forest, a cuckoo clock demonstration, watching a glassblower shape molten glass, or learning to make the famous Black Forest Cake from scratch. The cake lesson was hard to resist.

On the way back we passed through Freiburg — a lively university city with a strong ecclesiastical presence — before returning to the ship. A day that felt genuinely unhurried, which is exactly what the forest seems to demand.

We disembarked at Basel and headed straight into France — into Burgundy, to be precise, where the vineyards roll on in every direction and the very ground beneath them has UNESCO World Heritage status. The drive through Pommard, Volnay, and Meursault was a lesson in why this region's terroirs are spoken of with such reverence.

Our destination was Beaune, the undisputed wine capital of Burgundy, and it delivered on every count. We wandered the Old Town, passing the medieval walls and their surviving towers before arriving at the Basilica of Our Lady — its Romanesque facade quietly magnificent. Nearby, the Hôtel-Dieu caught our eye: a hospice dating to 1443, with its famous multicolored roof tiles and a history of charity that stretched across centuries.

Lunch was on our own, which meant a chance to find a quiet table, order something local, and simply sit inside the day for a while. A very good way to spend a Tuesday in

Board Ship: VIKING DELLING

Daytime — Vieux Lyon & Fourvière

Lyon rewards you immediately. We drove up to the Basilica of Notre Dame on Fourvière Hill first thing, and the view from the top — red rooftops of Vieux Lyon spreading below, the Presqu'île peninsula threading between two rivers — set the tone for the whole day.

Back down in the old quarter, we set off on foot through the cobblestone streets and discovered Lyon's most distinctive secret: the traboules. These hidden passageways, cut through buildings and courtyards, were once used by merchants to move silk quickly through the city. Stepping into one feels like slipping behind the city's public face into something older and quieter. We passed the Gothic St. Jean Cathedral and the Palace of Justice along the way, before finishing with some time to browse the shops — Lyon's silk tradition is very much alive.

Beaujolais

France — rolling hills and light fruity vintages

Wine region, Scenic drive, Cellar tasting

After Burgundy's grand reputation, Beaujolais feels like a secret that France has been quietly keeping. We drove through rolling hills where vineyards stretch for miles along the Saône, the granite soils and warmer climate producing grapes with that distinctive light, fruit-forward character the region is known for.

We stopped in a local village for a stroll and a proper introduction to the winemaking tradition here — including the story behind Beaujolais Nouveau, the young wine released every November with great fanfare, and the more serious coveted crus that reward those willing to look deeper into the region's cellar.

The highlight was a tasting at one of Beaujolais's famous cellars, guided by a wine expert who made the differences between the crus feel genuinely vivid. A relaxed, unhurried day in some of France's most quietly beautiful countryside.

France — two thousand years of history on foot

Roman heritage, Walking tour, Gothic cathedral

Vienne is the kind of place that makes you recalibrate your sense of time. We walked off the ship and directly into two millennia of history, with Roman, medieval, and Gothic layers sitting companionably side by side along the same streets.

The amphitheater came first — carved into the hillside and remarkably intact, it once held up to 14,000 spectators. Standing on the stone tiers it is easy to imagine the noise and spectacle that filled it. From there we made our way to the Temple of Augustus and Livia, a 1st-century structure so well preserved it was still in active use until the late 1800s. It sits in the middle of the city as though it simply never occurred to anyone to remove it.

The Gothic Cathedral of St. Maurice — built over nearly 500 years — anchored the medieval side of the day, and we also wandered through the Garden of Cybele, a former Roman neighborhood whose grounds are scattered with ruins and quiet corners. Free time afterward meant a café, a slow coffee, and no particular hurry. Vienne earns a long morning.

Tournon & the Doux Valley, France

Conservation area, Historic steam train, Doux River gorges

Today we left the rivers behind for the rails. From Tournon we boarded the Train des Gorges — a meter-gauge steam train listed as a French historic monument — and headed into the Doux Valley, a place that cannot be reached any other way. No roads go there. That fact alone tells you something.

The valley is a designated conservation area and it shows. The air is noticeably cleaner the moment the train rounds the first bend and the gorges close in around you. We skirted along the Doux River through deep green woodland, panoramic views opening up around each curve before the forest swallowed them again. The rhythm of a steam engine through untouched wilderness is its own kind of meditation.

For a cruise built around grand cities and celebrated wine regions, this was a quietly different kind of day — and all the better for it.

France — popes, palaces, and Roman engineering

UNESCO, Palace of the Popes, Roman aqueduct

Morning — Avignon

Avignon announces itself boldly. We wound through the historic center's narrow streets to the Place de l'Horloge — balconied facades, shading trees, the particular unhurried energy of a southern French square — before arriving at the Palace of the Popes, which simply dominates everything around it.

The scale is startling. The Middle Ages' largest Gothic building, it makes the neighboring cathedral look modest by comparison. From 1309 to 1377, amid considerable controversy, seven popes relocated here from Rome and ruled the Church from within these walls. The guided tour made that history feel genuinely alive. Afterward, free time at the Market Hall — an indoor market with a vertical garden, local cheeses, produce, and a café stop — was a fine way to end the morning in a city that has clearly never lost the habit of doing things grandly.

Afternoon — Pont du Gard

Then came the Pont du Gard, and it is one of those things that photographs simply cannot prepare you for. Three tiers of arches rising 160 feet above the Gardon River, built without a drop of mortar, still standing after two thousand years. Some of its stones weigh six tons.

The Romans built this aqueduct to carry water 31 miles from the springs of Uzès to Nîmes — maintaining a gradient of just 25 inches per mile across the entire distance to move 44 million gallons of water a day. The museum did an excellent job of putting that engineering achievement in context, and standing before the structure itself afterward, the numbers stop feeling abstract. A breathtaking afternoon.

Roman ruins and the light that stopped Van Gogh

UNESCO, Roman amphitheater, Walking tour

Arles is where Rome and Provence collide, and the result is one of the most layered cities we've visited on this trip. We explored entirely on foot, which is the only way to feel the city properly — around every corner, another century.

Les Arènes came first: a Roman amphitheater that seated 20,000 and still stands in the heart of the city as though it simply never left. Just beyond it, the 1st-century Antique Theater — three stories tall in its day, capacity 10,000 — offered another glimpse of how thoroughly Rome shaped this place. Following the Rue du Cloître to the Place de la République, we arrived at a square that was once home to the ancient Roman Circus, now presided over by the 15th-century Church of St. Trophime, a Romanesque masterpiece named for a 3rd-century bishop. The carved portal alone is worth the walk.

The final stop was the Espace Van Gogh — the hospital where Van Gogh was treated after his infamous breakdown, now a cultural center. The courtyard garden he painted is still there, quietly recognizable. A city of remarkable depth, lit by the same Provençal light that once drove an artist to pick up his brush and never stop.

The cruise ended quietly, as the best trips often do — not with a grand excursion but with a few free days and a city to wander. We spent it in downtown Avignon, following the main street at whatever pace felt right, browsing, pausing, and letting the south of France do what it does best.

Lunch turned into the afternoon's centerpiece — local cuisine, no particular agenda, the kind of meal that earns its time. Avignon had already impressed us from the palace and the market hall. Seeing it simply as a place to walk and eat and sit felt like a fitting farewell.

Two weeks on the river. From the windmills of Kinderdijk to the Roman stones of Provence — it was, without question, a journey worth every mile.

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Hotel De Cambis, Bw Premier Collection

Roussillon · Gordes · Fontaine-de-Vaucluse · Saint-Rémy · Les Baux

Private all-day tour, Five villages, Luberon & Alpilles

If the cruise gave us Provence from the river, today gave us Provence from the inside — an all-day private tour through five of the region's most extraordinary villages, each one a different argument for why this corner of France holds such a grip on the imagination.

Roussillon

The day opened with color — literally. Roussillon is built on and from ochre, and the village glows in shades of deep amber, rust, and gold that seem almost too vivid to be natural. The ochre cliffs surrounding it have been quarried for centuries and the pigment saturates everything: the walls, the paths, the light itself.

Gordes

Gordes rises from the Luberon plateau like something sculpted rather than built — pale limestone houses stacked against a hillside with the assured confidence of a village that knows exactly how beautiful it is. The views across the valley from the top are as sweeping as anything we saw from the river.

Fontaine-de-Vaucluse

A dramatic change of scene: a deep cliff valley where one of Europe's most powerful springs surges up from the rock. The village of Fontaine-de-Vaucluse clusters around it, quiet and green, with the poet Petrarch's house still standing on the bank of the Sorgue. The force of the water even in late spring is remarkable.

Saint-Rémy-de-Provence

Van Gogh's name is inescapable here — he spent a year at the asylum of Saint-Paul-de-Mausole just outside town, producing some of his most celebrated work. Saint-Rémy itself is elegant and unhurried, with a charming old town, excellent markets, and the ancient ruins of Glanum just at the edge of the village.

Les Baux-de-Provence

We ended the day at Les Baux — perhaps the most dramatic of the five. The ruined citadel sits atop a ridge of white rock in the Alpilles, the village clinging to the cliffside below it. In the golden late-afternoon light, it felt almost otherworldly.