Review of Century Glory ship Jen and Jeff

Jeff and I have always been curious travelers, wandering from the Alps to the far south of New Zealand. But recently, our curiosity led us to try something different: navigating the Yangtze River on a ship called Century Glory. After years of sleeping in hostels and dragging backpacks through train stations, we decided to try a cruise—specifically, the upstream route from Yichang to Chongqing. I’ll admit, I was skeptical. Would it feel like a floating hotel full of organized tours and bad buffet food? Here is how it actually went.

The boarding process at Yichang’s Maoping port was our first test. It’s chaotic. You don’t just walk onto the ship. There’s a steep gangway, porters shouting, and a lot of people queuing in the humid afternoon heat. The Century Glory crew handled it well, though. A young woman in a blue uniform took our luggage tags and pointed us to a waiting lounge with free cold tea. That little detail—cold tea—told me we weren’t on a budget backpacker trip anymore.

We boarded around 3 PM. The ship looked smaller than I expected, which I actually liked. It felt like a proper working river vessel, not a floating shopping mall.

We booked a standard cabin on the third deck. It’s compact—think a medium-sized hotel room on land—with a private balcony just big enough for two plastic chairs and a tiny table. The bed was firm but comfortable. Our backs thanked us.

What stood out was the bathroom. No, it wasn't fancy. But the shower had good water pressure and constant hot water, which is surprisingly rare on Chinese river ships. The air conditioning worked quietly. There was a wall-mounted TV showing CCTV news and an odd karaoke channel. We didn’t touch the TV.

The real magic of the cabin was sitting on that tiny balcony at 6 AM, coffee in hand, watching the mist lift off the river. That alone was worth the cabin price.

I was prepared for a loud, messy dining hall. The main restaurant on deck two is a buffet, yes. But the quality surprised me.

Breakfast was the weakest meal. Scrambled eggs were a bit watery, and the toast was soft. However, the made-to-order noodle station was a win. A small Chinese chef in a tall hat would hand-pull noodles into boiling water right in front of you. I had the dan dan mian (spicy Sichuan noodles) every morning. Jeff stuck to congee with pickled vegetables.

Lunch and dinner rotated themes. There was a "Sichuan night" with mapo tofu that actually made my nose run, and a "Western night" with a bland chicken breast in mushroom sauce. The trick, we learned, was to skip the Western dishes and focus on the Chinese stations. The steamed whole fish in ginger soy sauce, served on the second night, was excellent.

The dining room’s biggest flaw is the noise level. The tables are packed close together, and Chinese tour groups tend to talk loudly. It’s not a quiet, romantic dinner. It’s a community meal. We leaned into it and ended up chatting with a retired couple from Shanghai who gave us tips on bargaining in Chongqing.

This is where many cruises fail. Century Glory runs three mandatory shore excursions plus an optional one. We did them all.

TheThree Gorges Dam

The dam is a massive, concrete bus terminal of a place. You get off the ship, walk through endless corridors, and stand on viewing platforms while a guide explains turbine outputs. It felt like a field trip. But the scale is genuinely staggering. The ship lock system, where they lower the boat in giant steps, was more interesting to us than the dam itself. Watching the Century Glory descend 40 meters in a concrete box was surreal.

ShennongStream

This was our favorite. You leave the big ship for a smaller, wooden boat that holds about 25 people. Local Tujia minority boatmen row with oars and sing folk songs. It’s slowed down, quiet, and intimate. You’re floating through a narrow, green gorge with cliffs rising straight up. The water is emerald and clear—a stark contrast to the brown Yangtze. Our boatman, a thin older man named Lao Wang, pointed out where wild monkeys live in the cliffs. We saw one.

Be warned: You have to transfer off the Century Glory onto small boats by stepping down a wobbly metal gangway. If you have mobility issues, this is rough.

FengduGhost City

This is the most commercialized stop. You walk up a steep hill lined with souvenir stalls selling plastic figurines and Sichuan pepper candy. At the top is a Taoist temple complex with statues of ghosts and judges from the afterlife. It’s kitschy, but genuinely interesting if you read the signs. We spent more time watching a local calligrapher write names on fans than looking at the ghost statues.

The optional excursion was the White Emperor City. We skipped it. Our cabin neighbor said it was beautiful but involved climbing 600 steps in the heat. We chose to stay on the ship and read on the sun deck instead.

The sixth deck is a wide, open area with loungers and a small bar. This became our daily spot. The river itself is the real show. You see cargo ships loaded with coal, container vessels, and the occasional solitary fisherman in a tiny raft. The gorge scenery changes every hour—sheer limestone cliffs, then gentle hills covered in orange trees, then industrial towns with smokestacks.

One afternoon, a man on a small motorboat pulled up alongside our ship and tossed a rope. He was selling bags of fresh oranges. A crew member lowered a bucket with money. The oranges were small, ugly, and the sweetest I’ve ever eaten. That moment felt more authentic than any excursion.

The crew is mostly young Chinese staff. They are polite to the point of stiffness. Every interaction starts with a slight bow. They clean the cabin twice a day, which felt excessive. But when Jeff asked for extra pillows, a steward appeared within five minutes with two hotel-quality pillows.

The cruise director, a woman named Lily, speaks excellent English. She gave a daily briefing on the PA system every evening. Her announcements included historical facts, warnings about pickpockets in Chongqing, and gentle reminders to not be late returning from excursions.

The ship arrives at Chongqing’s Chaotianmen Port around 9 AM on the final day. The night before, the crew hosted a "captain’s farewell dinner." It was the same food, but with a small glass of baijiu (Chinese rice liquor) offered to each adult. Jeff took a sip and nearly coughed his lungs out. The Chinese passengers laughed and cheered.

Disembarkation was smooth. We got off at 8:30, walked through the port terminal, and immediately hit the famous Chongqing air—thick, humid, smelling of hot pot and diesel.

Bring your own reusable water bottle and fill it at the hot water dispenser on deck four. The ship sells small plastic bottles of water, but they’re overpriced. Every deck has a large dispenser with both cold and boiling water (standard in China). Boiling water in the cabin’s electric kettle works, but the dispenser is faster. Also, pack a small packet of tissues. The toilet paper on the ship is like tracing paper. We learned this the hard way on night one.

The Century Glory is not a luxury ship. The carpets are dated. The nightly entertainment is a singer doing covers of "My Heart Will Go On" in a sparkly dress. But it is honest. It shows you the river without pretending to be something it’s not. For curious travelers who want comfort without a plastic bubble, this ship works. We stepped off feeling like we had actually seen the Yangtze, not just a curated slideshow.

If you go, book the upstream route. It’s slower. You have more time on the sun deck. And pack light. The cabin storage is tight. But leave room in your luggage for those ugly oranges. You’ll want to bring them home.