One of my favorite parts of river cruising is heading out on foot or bicycle to explore the city of the day on my own. It’s something river lines increasingly encourage, with onboard bikes and concierge and activity guides to help adventurous travelers who want to do things other than the traditional guided city tours.
But one such outing during the recent christening sailing of the AmaMagna was a reminder of the importance of tapping into that onboard expertise and paying attention to those pre-cruise talks, which, like airline briefings, are easy to tune out. For instance, they always emphasize three of the cardinal lessons of river cruising: never leave the ship without knowing its docking location and phone number, and make sure you have a map.
In Vienna, I violated all three. And while it turned into a fun, albeit at times slightly stressful, adventure, it was also a reminder of why many travelers prefer guided excursions to unscripted solo experiences — and why I still recommend venturing without a plan. It began when I overslept and missed the guided bike tour of Vienna. Wanting to exercise, I grabbed one of the last two bikes with plans for taking a leisurely ride along the riverbank before lunch on the ship and an afternoon shuttle into the city center.
About a kilometer or two down the path, realizing there was not much to see, I impulsively headed toward town to see what I could find. And find I did. I cruised past beautiful parks, over the Danube canal, along residential streets in the old city with beautiful flower boxes and interesting old windows and doors, past bustling street cafes, and finally into the heart of the city center, where I used Vienna’s extensive bike lanes to cycle past some of its most famous sites. I watched horse carriages carry tourists past the National Theater, cycled the paths in the park surrounding the towering neo-Gothic Votive Church, into the museum district, and past Vienna’s famed opera house, enjoying the beautiful architecture combined with the daily hustle and bustle.
A few hours in, I decided it was time to head back to the ship, comfortable with my direction until I came to a dead-end in what I thought was a street that would take me to the Danube. The first person I tried to get recommendations from walked right past me. Others just shrugged. Then I saw a young bike deliveryman who spoke perfect English. “The river?” he said, “It’s that way,” pointing opposite where I had been headed.
“Follow me.” It was a river, all right. It just wasn’t my river. I was back at the Danube canal that runs through the city’s heart, which I knew was the opposite direction. I set off again, seeing some familiar landmarks but ending up back at the canal. I found a police officer who gave me a bit of a blank stare when I asked where the river was. “Where do the big cruise ships go?” I said—still nothing.
