People often ask me, what is
cruising like. Well, that depends. If
you just want to get away from telemarketers, save some money and take the
phone off the hook. No need for a cruise. But, when the heart of the adventurer pounds
in your chest, in time to the thump of distant drums, it’s time to get out of
the house, out of your daily world of worry, and speed away to distant lands.
What? You’ve got questions? I already know the first one. Why the hell should you listen to me? An attitude my wife often shares. Here’s my curriculum
vitae: Cruises to the eastern and
western Mediterranean, the Baltic, Iceland and Norway, and around the British
Isles (and Ireland). Some were large
ships (over 3500 passengers) and others were small (around 650 passengers).
For those who are thinking
about a cruise, but haven’t yet been, I need to thrill you with a sense of what
life aboard a cruise ship is like.
We just got back from a two-week
jaunt that began and ended in the port of Dover, England, with stops in the
Shetland Islands (Scotland), Iceland, and Norway. One of the big reasons I enjoy cruising is
that it gets me away from the daily dailies, washing, ironing, pointless
internet. We were on the Princess Cruise
line and a minute of onboard internet is pretty much what you would pay for a
complete transmission overhaul. Ok, I
exaggerate. Slightly. My point is, on a cruise you can be
disconnected from the extraneous and reconnected to NOW.
Sure, you can disconnect at
home, very easily, if you can ignore the dirty laundry, the dirty dishes, the
lawn and garden, and your encyclopedic list of errands. Go ahead, give it a try. No luck?
Try cruising.
Exchange your normal duties
for a life of leisure. Allow me to
elaborate.
Ok, you just had a day at
sea, then disembarked for your first excursion to ancient castles, towering
waterfalls, a tour of an historic city, in short, a traveler’s buffet of
excitement. Tastes, scrambling tones of other
languages, magnificent views, and all the things you’ve heard about and read
about. It may have been a full day, or
only a few hours. But, it whetted your
imagination and restored your yen for the exuberance of travel like flipping
through an issue of National Geographic never could.
 |
| Shetland Ponies |
 |
| The Castle Mey |
 |
| The White Cliffs of Dover |
 |
| Cruising through a Norwegian Fiord |
 |
| The stark beauty of Iceland |
At the end of your day on
shore, you re-board your ship, puffing your chest out like a world
traveler, and knowing you’re leaving so
much behind. You promise yourself you’ll return. You look at your watch. My god, lunch was an excellent slosh of wine
and a bite of local cheese and bread, or maybe coffee and pastries of the land,
and that was hours ago. But, your hunger
churns deeper than that. You want to
share your experiences. The rainbow over
the waterfall, the cobblestone streets, the woman in the coffee shop who told
you in stunted English about her brother in Chicago. But, who to share these daily jewels with? Fellow travelers, of course. Remember that couple from Australia you met
in the bar last night? The Japanese
couple who shared your dinner table?
Be patient as you settle into
your elegant dinner chair and your waiter kindly opens your starched white
napkin and lays it gently in your lap.
Meanwhile, the bar steward arrives with a perfectly chilled cocktail and
delivers it with a smile. Next comes the
menu of this evening’s selections. While you ponder those, the maître d’
elaborates on tonight’s specialties and offer wine suggestions.
“No sir,” he informs you, “We
do not stock Trader Joe’s Two Buck Chuck, but I would be more than happy to
doff my shoes, stomp Chilean grapes in my sock feet, and add them to your glass
of water.”
“Really,” you reply, “You are
too too kind, but one of your rare vintages captures my attention. I believe I’ll have a bottle of the
extravagant vin pour le polissage des
chaussures * whose name must be spoken through your nose while gargling a
swallow of your jus de bourbon.”
“Very good , sir.”
Chatter erupts from your
dinner companions. Only strangers a day
ago, now their excitement spills out before you. You have shared experiences. New friends in an instant.
The wine arrives and is
de-corked with aplomb. You play the
part, with swishes, a tiny swallow and a knowing nod. The multiple courses arrive. You are thrilled. Your dinner companions admire not only the
multitudinous platters of delectables, but the gentle way you carnivorously
devour more than a starving lion could on the Serengeti. All without a word of disparagement from your
wife who is busily engaged with nods and clever conversation with the other
wives, as well as a dish of lighter than air cheese soufflé.
After dinner, there are more
drinks in the plush Club Bar, along with scintillating multi-lingual conversations
from a goodly representation of fellow swillers.
You must not linger too long,
or you’ll miss the floorshow in the cavernous lounge that rivals Las Vegas
auditoriums, both in seating and talent.
After the singing, magic, and
comedy, you’ll surely not want to miss dancing in the forward lounge, to live
music, encompassing everything from jazz to rock and roll and country. Ah, the subdued lighting and the girl of your
dreams once again in your arms.
You arrive back at your
stateroom and notice the place is spotless, with the white sheets turned back and
evening chocolates placed delicately on your pillow, along with a four page,
full color brochure of all that’s available tomorrow, both excursions and
activities.
Just in case you missed the
live review of wonders that await at your next docking, you switch on your TV
and catch a rebroadcast.
Tell me you get all that at
home? Or in a hotel? Or anywhere else you go can name?
This is the cruising life,
the life of a prince, or princess, the life you always dreamed would
one day be yours.
It’s time to turn out the
light. Tomorrow brings another
excursion, photo lessons from the ship’s photographers, line dancing, bingo, a
full body massage. How the hell are you going
to get to sleep?
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