THE BEST THING ABOUT EUROPE

When Robert Louis Stevenson said that it is “better to travel hopefully, than to arrive” he had clearly never been stuck on a seven-lane sub-orbital ring road sign-posted in a foreign language with a car full of hungry, desperate people who are quickly starting to resemble the passengers on the raft of the Medusa.

Europe is stunningly beautifully and historically mind-blowing; the whole place haemorrhages history with a host of ghosts in every nook and cranny, but it’s also chock-a-block. Roads are choked and trains are full.

Flying around Europe is equally as stressful. Sharing one toilet with 20 nationalities with varying and sometimes idiosyncratic approaches to personal hygiene is bad enough, but there’s nothing like feeling the warm cellulite of a lecherous stranger pressing into your thigh during a turbulent take-off to make you really appreciate boating life.

Without doubt, the most enjoyable way to explore Europe and experience its wonders is by ship. Every major city in Europe is built on a river; rivers were the continent’s aquatic superhighways.

The best thing about cruising is not just the fact that you only unpack once, but you also get to leave your emotional baggage at the gangway, i.e. no arguments about map reading or why men would rather die than ask for directions (which is why they always include a woman on the space shuttle now, I think, don’t you?). Cruising means you can have endless adventures in exciting new cities, while umbilically attached to the mother ship for comfort and safety.

Picture yourself leaving Vienna, Budapest or Amsterdam in your horizontal hotel, sipping champagne on deck at dusk, marvelling at the castles and forests slipping dreamily by. After dinner, it’s dancing neath the stars (I call it the Disco Diet) till you hit the sack relaxed and contented, to awake, refreshed, docked in the next historic, UNESCO World Heritagelisted city on your itinerary. After popping ashore to look at a few ancient relics (besides each other) gaping agog at various Byzantine basilicas, golden mosaics and quaint, cobbled squares, it’s anchors away for another night of quaffing and quipping and gourmet guzzling aboard HMS Hedonism.

Dear Reader, you’re dubious, I can tell. I was too. I’d heard the horror stories about cruising. What if I was marooned at dinner with some bore and forced to become a finalist in a Fixed Smile Event? I imagined cabins so cramped even a sardine would feel claustrophobic. Would I have to go outside to change my mind?

Fearing the worst, I boarded my first-ever riverboat, in Budapest. Well, when I saw my spacious, opulent cabin, complete with an expansive balcony, I was so thrilled I had to tilt my head backwards so that my eyeballs didn’t fall out. The rapidly flowing Danube beneath my private balcony fizzed and frothed like the champagne my butler was handing to me with a welcoming smile. Yes, I said “butler”. The bloke was so cheerily attentive, he made the Waltons look depressed. When he then asked what else I’d like, I replied “I think this is the part where you peel me grapes and fan me with lotus leaves.”

The Danube neatly separates the two cities of Buda and Pest. After exploring Buda’s Rapunzel turrets and towers, basilicas and battlements, followed by the bustling boulevards of Pest, it was then onto Cologne to check out the cathedral. This masterpiece of High Gothic architecture with its filigree twin spires, the tallest in the world, dominates the city’s panorama. Drifting inside, I stood over-awed by the stained-glass lozenges of light glinting in the sun like trapped butterfly wings.

Next stop Amsterdam: a miraculous city that floats and shimmers up out of the water like a mirage. The medieval streets lined with golden-age, gabled houses, and the flower-bedecked canals and arched wrought-iron bridges, suffuse the city with an olde-world charm. After taking your fill of museums, you can refuel on pickled fish, savoury pancakes and bitterballen or munch your way through a plate of cannabis-infused Dutch delicacies called ‘space cakes” while you plan your next river trip.

My next amphibious adventure was through the romantic Rhine valley, a magical, castle-encrusted fairy-tale landscape, famed for the Lorelei legend and other folklore. We set sail from Vienna, where I took in the Schonbrunn Palace and the Spanish Riding School. The Austrian capital exudes culture from every creative cranny. Opulence, elegance, palaces, pastries, schnitzel, apfelstufel, art, music; the fin de siècle atmosphere of Vienna was right up my boulevard. I sat in a cobbled square, noshing on slabs of sacher torte and hot chocolate. When the liquid notes of Mozart spilled into the street from a cosy café, I half expected to see a be-wigged Beethoven or even Strauss, in red frock coat and waistcoat, dashing towards the opera house.

My most recent river trip was through Bordeaux. The south of France is casually strewn with medieval citadels, grand chateaus and Roman ruins. And believe me – being photographed in front of ancient monuments makes a girl look soooo much younger!

With its imperial boulevards and buzzing cosmopolitan ambience, you can see why the World Heritage-listed city of Bordeaux is nicknamed the “little Paris”. After an exciting day exploring Bordeaux’s cobbled lanes and grand, imperial boulevards, I sashayed back on board for a dinner of lobster bisque, chateaubriand steak and crème brulée…

Ah, yes, travel broadens the mind… but also the hips. But the availability of electric bikes means guilt-free gourmandising. As our boat meandered through lush Sauternes vineyards, past Chateau Margot and Latour, I peddled along beside it. And believe me; nothing whets the appetite more than cycling through what you’re going to be drinking later.

Travelling by plane, train and car, you often feel you need a holiday to recuperate from your holiday. But river cruising is all about going with the flow. Literally. You just sit back and drink it all in – while drinking. By day expert guides steer you from museum to monument, fountain to forum, ruin to relic (a pickled piece of a saint) cathedral to catacomb. And then by night, there’s always the chance of some mouth-to-mouth resuscitation with a tautly posteriored sailor with pecs-appeal during a lifeboat drill. (Gives a new definition to “navel-gazing”.)

But whatever floats your boat, I know you’ll end your cruise as contented as a canary-fed cat. In short, when your ship comes in – make sure you’re not queueing at the airport. CT

Travels with friends and family

Clockwise, from opposite page: The author with Kath & Kim’s Jane Turner in Salzburg; Schloss Belvedere in Vienna; Lipizzaner stallion at the Spanish Riding School in Vienna; Kathy Lette on a bike-riding tour with her sisters while river-cruising Bordeaux.