I’ve sailed numerous European rivers, including the Douro, Rhône, Seine, Rhine and Danube, plus various picturesque French canals. But I’ve never cruised Belgium or the Netherlands in springtime, at the height of tulip season. So when the opportunity arose to try Uniworld’s newest ship, the 77-stateroom S.S. Emilie, for an Antwerp-to-Amsterdam itinerary, I jumped at the chance.

Our eight-day voyage started in Belgium, with a stop in Ghent before backtracking into the Netherlands. I loved the opportunity to explore places I had never even considered visiting, spending an afternoon wandering antiques stores in Dordrecht, for example, or browsing contemporary art at a 750-year-old church in Nijmegen.

As soon as we boarded, the design of the vessel impressed me. These days, too many newly built cruise ships (and hotels) aim for an inoffensive, unobtrusive décor. By seeking the broadest possible appeal, they sacrifice both a sense of place and character. Refreshingly, Uniworld tends to buck that trend. The Emilie evokes the golden age of travel with polished wood, marble surfaces and sumptuous fabrics. Named after Emilie Flöge, the muse of Viennese painter Gustav Klimt, the ship also features Jugendstil (art nouveau) flourishes. Throughout the vessel are (mostly tasteful) prints and reproductions of Klimt’s works. I quite enjoyed the glamorous atmosphere of the public spaces, especially the main lounge, Belvedere, with its colorful velvet upholstery, tasseled lamps and antiqued mirrors.

Our French Balcony cabin was compact, with most of the space occupied by a king bed that could be divided into two twins by a wooden partition. There was, however, plenty of storage: closets, two nightstands with cabinets and shelves, under-bed drawers and a marble-topped chest beside a desk that doubled as a dressing table. Raw-silk curtains, crisp white bedding and fabric-covered walls underscored the ship’s old-school sensibility. I disliked the blue tint on the window, but the glass descended at the touch of a button, giving us a French balcony. We kept it open as much as possible.

I appreciated the bench in the larger-than-expected shower, but I did overhear other guests lamenting the lack of grab bars. My main gripe was a perennial one, no matter where I travel: not enough hooks.

I found the 57 crew members charming and affable, and I was shocked to learn they had worked together for mere weeks, not years. Housekeepers, technicians and servers had a real esprit de corps, which also made it fun for us — especially during cocktail hour, when bartenders mixed up increasingly outlandish drinks for adventurous passengers. There seemed to be an unofficial competition to see who could create the most esoteric concoction. However, a simple margarita my travel companion ordered was made with ghastly sour mix in lieu of fresh lime juice.

Editor Photos

The wines onboard were an unqualified highlight. Each night featured different selections, mostly Austrian, Hungarian and German bottlings chosen by the gregarious sommelier. Gustav’s restaurant seated all guests at once for what felt like a convivial dinner party. We chose from a changing menu of European and American dishes. I detected little emphasis on local cuisine or seasonality, but the range of offerings was broad. Notably, the vegetarian options went well beyond the usual salads and pasta dishes. The dining room’s picture windows placed us at eye level with the passing landscape. My favorite dinners were those spent cruising through the countryside at twilight, watching cows graze along the riverbanks as the light faded.

The scene after dinner was considerably more subdued. Often we enjoyed delightful musical programming, including a trio of string musicians performing familiar classical works. But some of the entertainment — a silent disco, for instance, or a sequin-clad duo singing pop song covers — missed the mark. On those evenings, we retired to the smaller Aft Lounge with a handful of other passengers to swap stories or play cards.

One night was particularly exciting. I was suddenly awakened in the wee hours by the Emilie rolling through unexpectedly rough water on the Zuiderzee. The high winds and waves delayed us, forcing us to skip our planned morning tour. Instead, we docked around midday in a sleepy town where almost nothing was open. That gave me the opportunity to try the ship’s spa, which turned out to be one of the highlights of my onboard experience. In the single treatment room next to the well-equipped (but mostly unused) gym, I had an absolutely fantastic massage.

The pièce de résistance of the cruise was Keukenhof, home to the Netherlands’ famous tulip extravaganza, open for only a few weeks each spring. We arrived at precisely the right moment to see the gardens in full bloom. The explosion of color was so spectacular that it moved one of my shipmates to tears. Unfortunately, tourists might have outnumbered the flowers.

But my quibbles about the itinerary are ultimately irrelevant. As of this writing, the ship has relocated to Central Europe, where it will mostly cruise the Danube. If I were to sail with Emilie again, and I hope I shall, I’d book one of the itineraries beginning or ending in Vienna, where the opulent ship would feel right at home.

Note: This cruise was provided to the editor on a complimentary basis.