Katharina von Bora was the wife of famed Protestant Martin Luther, so it's fitting that this vessel, her namesake, visits the East German town of Wittenberg, where the Reformation movement started. In fact, the voyage along the Elbe (magically becoming the Labe when you hit the Czech border) and Vltava (its Czech name but also called the Moldau in German) is filled with historic highlights -- a glimpse through the ages of medieval empires, Baroque style, Saxon fiefdoms, religious reformation and persecution, industrial revolution, artistic excellence, Communist repression, and finally capitalist enterprise.

The boat, a simple yet elegant vessel with only 41 cabins and three decks (including a sun deck), holds a maximum of 79 passengers. It is just 31 ft. wide and 272 ft. long, and offers few of the amenities that you'd find on a larger boat or seagoing vessel. And yet: That is part and parcel of the appeal of Katharina von Bora and other river ships. The destinations are the backdrop, while the boat is the five-star hotel and dining establishment from which you get to explore them.

From mid-March through mid-November, Peter Deilmann Cruises' Katharina von Bora glides from Potsdam (near Berlin) through canals and locks to the Elbe River and then to the Vltava (in Melnik). It carries Germans and passengers of other nationalities intent on exploring the region to places like Magdeburg, home of Georg PhilippTelemann, the Baroque-era composer; Wittenberg, seat of the Reformation; Meissen; Dresden; Konigstein; Leitmoritz; Melnik; and Prague.

This route is breathtaking not so much due to physical beauty (although a verbal description of Saxon Switzerland would not do it justice) but because of the realm of emotions it evokes. Everyone onboard my voyage remembered the former Soviet era, "the wall" coming down and the issues of "German reunification." Many of the vessel's guests had been children -- some much older than that -- during WWII and remembered the allied bombing of Dresden just 12 weeks before the war's end. Many, of course, were reminded of the concentration camps and some went to visit one, preserved as a memorial, in Leitmoritz, Czech Republic. And all were anxious and excited to visit Prague, now the fourth most popular tourist destination in Europe, after Paris, London and Rome.

MV Katharina von Bora is the perfect means by which to explore the region, and while German is the predominant language, all announcements are offered in English as well.


There is one restaurant aboard Katharina von Bora, a cozy but elegant room on the first level with windows on both sides. Guest seating is assigned at the beginning of the voyage and can range from a round table for eight to a small, romantic two-top. If you aren't happy with the arrangements, let the maitre d' know right away, as you will be dining with the same companions and at the same table for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Breakfast is the most casual meal of the day, with a cold buffet and made-to-order eggs. Every day there is a specialty offered, whether pancakes, a ham and cheese sandwich, or French toast. The cold items include fresh fruit, cheeses, cold cuts and several varieties of smoked fish; one, a mild whitefish of some sort, is served in hunks and is so melt-in-the-mouth scrumptious that I sought it out every day.

Lunchtime has a cold cut and salad buffet that can make a quite filling meal, with rolls and breads for sandwiches and a cheese platter with regional varieties and some quite spectacular French cheeses. (One favorite is the Cambozola at just exactly the right stage of goopiness, which goes perfectly with the nutty and chewy black pumpernickel served in thin slices.) There's also a menu that includes an antipasto for those who prefer to forego the salad buffet, a main course of meat, fish or vegetarian, and dessert.

Dinnertime, though, is where dining on Katharina von Bora really shines. The restaurant takes on a more elegant air with candles on the tables; most meals run six courses (although there is the occasional eight-course spread). Portions are very small; you won't find edge-lapping steaks or chops on this vessel. You're advised of this at the outset, and can order more if you'd like. Each dinner starts with a small salad-based appetizer, then soup, then another appetizer and then the main course. Again, there is a choice of meat, fish or vegetable (a fully vegetarian meal is available as well, and other dietary needs are easily met). An elaborate dessert, cheese and fruit tray completes the meal.

Each course is elaborately prepared and beautifully presented; some of the dishes are so pretty it's hard to make the decision to destroy them by putting fork to plate. Some of the creations use an odd mix of ingredients that don't exactly work (lentil and pomegranate seed soup, for instance), but most are intriguingly subtle, and there are dishes that are straightforward, non-finicky and simply delicious. The roast shoulder of pork with potato strudel was one such main course, and in this instance we really wished for a larger portion. But then it was time for dessert and we were glad to have the extra room.

My only quibble with the excellent dining onboard is that the chef has an absolute obsession for balsamic vinegar. With breakfast as the sole exception, a squirt or squiggle of balsamic is on almost every item at both lunch and supper: on the soup, on the meats, on the appetizers and sometimes incorporated into the desserts. Chicken breast with an orange curry sauce came as a couple of thin slices of chicken placed on some swirled gravy; there might have been some orange and there might have been some curry ... but it was mostly balsamic. Roast beef with chanterelle mushrooms came with a balsamic pepper sauce. It was squirted on my sesame tofu with soy-ginger vegetables, on the fried prawn appetizer and on almost all salads. There was even a dessert that featured balsamic cherries. I like balsamic, but it's a strong flavor and it doesn't belong on everything.

Beyond the dining room meals, there is a broth or bouillon served at 11 a.m. in the lounge; tea, coffee and cake served at around 4 p.m.; and late-night sandwiches served at 11 p.m. No one can possibly go hungry.

While the boat's staff does a good job at considering language when placing guests (American English with Americans, Italians with Italians etc.), they fall down when it comes to solo travelers. One German gentleman, traveling alone, dined alone at a table for two for the first few meals, until the boat's doctor joined him (when the doctor's wife came aboard near the end of the cruise, the solo fellow was again left to dine alone).

One incident perfectly defined this disconnect: I was traveling solo and placed at a table of three North American couples, all of whom had much in common. While the wives did occasionally try to engage me, they were more often than not quickly absorbed in conversations with their spouses and the others. I was truly a seventh wheel. It wasn't particularly comfortable for me, but I managed, until the Gala Night dinner.

On the last night of the cruise (suggested attire: formal), the boat presents a beautiful meal complete -- believe it or not -- with a parade of Baked Alaska (followed by the introduction of the kitchen staff). The meal is purposefully expanded and decidedly gourmet, with an amuse bouche to start, a salad appetizer, a soup, a second appetizer, a sorbet refresher and then the main course. What's special on this night is that Richard, the entertainer, brings his electronic piano down to the restaurant and plays a few strains of a march while the servers parade to a particular table carrying silver-domed plates. After placing the plates in front of the guests, and with the appropriate flourish, they perform "butterfly service," simultaneously removing the domes from the dishes. They did this table by table to the delight of all of the diners in the restaurant, who clapped in time to the march and applauded the removal of the domes.

When the servers came to our table, there were only three of them. The music was going, the clapping was continuing, and six domed plates were placed on our table, one each in front of the guests who were couples ... and none in front of me. Music. Clapping. Flourish. Domes off, and the servers paraded away. And I sat with no meal for several moments until a server came and unceremoniously plunked an uncovered plate in front of me and scurried off. Talk about feeling minimized! I thought my humiliation was personal until one of my new German friends, seated at an adjacent table, told me that she was poised to take a photo of me during the presentation, but was open-mouthed in shock when she saw what transpired. It was a really thoughtless way to treat a guest. Appallingly so.


The public rooms on Katharina von Bora, apart from the above-mentioned dining room, consist of the small lobby (with a reception desk and a closet-sized boutique flanked on each side by two chairs) and the lounge (a large living room space with seating for about 64 people, a bar, a piano and a small dance floor).

The lounge is the center of all activity on the boat; it's comfortable and homey, with several sofas and club chair groupings, fresh flowers, floor-to-ceiling windows all around, and a classy Regency-style decor that could be fussy and overwhelming but somehow isn't. The color scheme of golds, pale green and coral is restful; even the yellow, gold and green daisies incorporated into the coral-colored carpet seem to blend seamlessly into the overall placid environment. Mahogany wainscoting, brass light sconces, upholstered window cornices and dark green faux-marble table tops provide a parlor-like feel. And it's amazing what some well-placed and perfectly-fitted molding can do to a room; quite apart from the shadow-box molding on the walls, the ceiling is also adorned with panels of elaborate overlays and carved crowns.

During the day, the lounge is used for relaxing, reading and visiting. The bar opens at 10 a.m., and at 11 a.m. a morning bouillon is served. At around 4 p.m. (times vary depending on the itinerary), tea and coffee are served with an array of elaborate cakes, with entertainment by Richard, the piano player and singer. After supper, Richard offers more entertainment and dancing, and the lounge is the social center of post prandial conviviality.

In one corner of the room is "the library," a glass-enclosed bookcase with reading material in several languages which guests can borrow on the honor system.

The boutique, which also doubles as a hair salon, sells logo items like sweatshirts and polo shirts, an assortment of shawls and sweaters, a couple of pieces of jewelry, and some -- but very few -- items of local interest like nutcrackers and some porcelain pieces.

During fine weather, the Sun Deck is considered a "public room" as well. There is no pool or hot tub, just rows and rows of chairs and loungers and a small covered area with tables and chairs. You can get blankets in cooler weather, and although there is no bar service, you can carry drinks up from the lounge.

Note: Everything on the Sun Deck is collapsible. When the boat goes under a low bridge (some of them have less than four inches of clearance!) the rails are folded down. The chairs and tables are collapsed, the overhead awnings dismantled, and the wheelhouse disappears via pulleys into a "hole" in the floor. A few minutes later, the Sun Deck is back in business, with everything put back the way it had been.

There is no elevator onboard.

Smoking is allowed on one side of the lounge and on the outside Sun Deck; there is no smoking in passenger cabins, in the lobby/reception area, in the dining room or in hallways.


Katharina von Bora has 41 cabins and four cabin types; all are outsides and with the exception of the two junior suites and three singles, all are identical in size.

Cabins on the lobby-level have French balconies: the doors open to the outside, but you can't step out. They're quite ingenious, really, because one side of the opening has a screen and the other doesn't so you can lean over the railing to look forward or back. With that side closed and locked, you can leave the screened side open for fresh air.

The cabins on the lower level have fixed windows, not unlike standard cruise ship outsides.

All of the double cabins are 12 square meters, or about 129 square ft., a size that folks who've cruised on contemporary ocean-going ships will find most cozy. You can choose either a queen bed or two twins; rooms with twins are configured differently than those with queens and are laid out better, with a small coffee table and a slightly larger bathroom. The twins flank the French doors on the upper level and the windows on the lower level. Since there is no door to open, the lower level rooms also have a small chest of drawers under the window.

The queen-bedded rooms have the bed against a side wall with nightstands flanking it on each side.

The two junior suites are located on the lower level and have exactly one extra square meter of space (140 square ft.). They do have two large windows (compared to the standard room's one) but they seem more cramped than other rooms with the addition of a chest and mirror at the foot of the queen bed. The three single cabins (two up, one down) are similar to the twin-bedded rooms but narrower of course, with one bed.

All rooms are dressed in a cheery yellow and blue color scheme, with Provencal-looking yellow and blue spreads, blue gray bolsters, royal blue drapes and a pale blue carpet with gold flecks. Cherry-wood closets, furniture and wainscoting, and delicately textured wallpaper make the rooms look and feel elegant despite their tiny size; excellent lighting also adds to the ambience.

The bathrooms have rounded cherry cabinetry and sink extensions with a marble top, gleaming tile floors and marble walls, glass-enclosed marble shower units and even cherry wood toilet seats. What a treat to find not only Molton Brown soaps, lotions and shampoo (small ones, 50 ml or 1.7 ounces), but face-cloths as well, unusual in Europe. You can request a terrycloth robe to use during the trip, and slippers (which you can keep).

Note: The showers in the queen-bedded rooms are really, really tiny ... although none of the bathrooms are large, the showers in the twin-bedded rooms and junior suites are more comfortable.

All rooms also come with a stocked mini-bar, a radio and a small television; almost all of the programming is in German with only CNN in English. There are a couple of channels reserved for video presentations, but on our cruise were only used twice -- for destination-oriented documentaries.


At first glance, it seems that the entertainment consists of Richard and only Richard ... the most unlikely lounge singer you're ever likely to meet. Diminutive and professorial-looking, the Poland-born singer has been a Katharina fixture for over six years. His soft strains at the electronic piano fill the lounge from tea time until bed time. Although he has a couple of light classicals in his repertoire, most of his songs hail from the 1950's and 60's, with standards from the likes of Nat King Cole, Perry Como, Tony Bennett and even Ricky Nelson ("Unchained Melody").

But although Richard is always on hand to entertain with his soothing reedy vibrato, there is more here than meets the eye.

On our second day on the river we were treated to a mini-Oktoberfest in the lounge -- at 10:30 a.m., no less -- with sausages (including "weisswurst," that Munich-style favorite, complete with honey mustard), kraut, slaw and potato salad. This repast was accompanied by typical Bavarian "oompah" music, which the Germans also call "oompah" music, and everyone sang along to "Roll Out the Barrels" -- in German or in English. It was great fun, but it wasn't the only surprise.

In Dresden we were invited to an evening concert in the lounge by a troupe from the city that includes a violinist, a soprano and a pianist. The evening was filled with songs from Broadway musicals, classical numbers, operatic arias and comedy. (During the spring and summer, the group is joined by a flautist, the wife of Thomas Ullrich, the boat's hotel director.)

The following night we were promised a "star guest" for the "End of Summer" festival they had planned for us. Again, everyone gathered in the lounge for an evening of light poetry, songs, summer punch made with Prosecco and strawberries, and a short film ("Dinner for One," apparently quite well-known in Germany since it's played every New Year's Eve and again on New Year's Day). Then the headliner, the promised "star guest" appeared. It was Thomas, the hotel director, joined by the maitre d' and the chief engineer, in the guise of Comedian Harmonists, a famous comedy troop from the 1930's known for their mockery of Hitler and his henchmen before they were silenced. The three officers sang and performed comedy acts, totally stepping out of their traditional shipboard (boatboard?) roles, delighting all of us.

And finally, in Melnik, we were entertained by Vinsovanka, a brass band from Prague that managed to fit into one of the lounge alcoves with trombones, clarinets, a full set of drums, a bandleader and a pianist who took over Richard's perch. We enjoyed Dixieland jazz and marches for almost two hours.

So although Richard was the entertainment onboard Katharina von Bora, he was joined by several stellar performers. On a vessel this small, with a guest capacity of only 70 people (and a count of only 56 on our cruise), it was pretty impressive, lively and fun.


Apart from the fork-to-mouth aerobics, which take place six times a day, the only other fitness and recreation available on Katharina von Bora consists of climbing the stairs to the Sun Deck or descending the stairs to the restaurant. There is a small dance floor in the lounge but none of the music that Richard plays will give you a good workout; it's designed more for the cheek-to-cheek dancing variety.

One enterprising New Yorker brought his yoga mat with him and rigorously followed his routine at 6 a.m. every day, using the dance floor in the lounge. Every morning I would sip my coffee in the predawn light while this chap did his routine, just the two of us, silently bonding as the only ones awake at that hour.

The boat makes so many stops and offers so many opportunities to get out and walk that most people didn't miss a gym or equipment. It should be noted, too, that many of the streets in the towns we visited were steep and cobblestoned; it's essential to have good walking shoes and a walking stick if you need one for balance.


There are no rules about bringing children aboard, which we find somewhat odd, since this boat is decidedly unsuited for the younger crowd. Grandparents occasionally bring their grandchildren, and one couple brought an infant, but it's a bad idea. There is nothing for a kid to do onboard, nowhere to run and expend energy, nowhere to even plunk a child down with a video game. It's a placid boat and the experience would probably drive a child crazy (and apparently, the infant drove the other passengers crazy). However, there are a few high chairs, portable cribs and cots for the occasional youngster who joins the cruise.


In March, when the voyages start their season in the cold of waning winter, the crowd is almost 100 percent German. After that, spring through fall, there is a lively mix of North American, European, Australian and Asian passengers. During any given month after March, the mix is typically 30 percent German and 40 to 50 percent North American. Occasional groups join the cruise (we had an Elderhostel group on ours) and from time to time the entire boat is chartered to an organization.


During the day, resort casual rules (sunbathing attire and shorts during the hot summer months includes, and jeans and sweats during the cooler fall season). In the evening it's dressy, and even though the pre-boarding information makes no mention of "formal" attire (and indeed, a tux or beaded gown would be out of place), there are a couple of formal nights onboard; the men wear ties and jackets and the women wear pearls. On most nights, though, figure on country club casual: dressy but not too much.


Tips aren't included in the cruise fare and the distribution of the recommended amount is somewhat confusing. The brochure recommends $4 per day for your stateroom stewardess and $8 per day for your waitperson, but there are envelopes and slotted chests placed at the front desk and in the dining room to deposit gratuities. The one at the front desk asks you to acknowledge the front desk personnel, boutique manager and officers, but makes no mention of the bar staff. Most people tipped in euros; most used the provided envelopes and handed them to the appropriate personnel, bypassing the chests. Gratuities were also distributed to the two bar servers in the lounge. To cover everyone, figure on about 100 euros for the week.