Taking a ‘cruise virgin’ on his first ship carries a lot of
responsibility – especially after I've built up a holiday taken this way
to be the best thing since sliced bread.
Would it live up to the hype?
Especially as I wouldn’t have thought
Mr C was your typical cruise passenger.
He doesn’t like heights or deep water, has heard too much about the
horrors of sea-sickness… and he’s sharing a cabin with myself and my two
sons. He fears claustrophobia –
especially after hearing he’ll be onboard with 3000 other passengers: he has visions of being crushed everywhere he
goes.
At 7am on Monday morning, we are at the bus station with our
suitcases to catch the Eavesway bus. It’s
a nice feeling to know that the next time we see those suitcases, they will be
outside our cabin. No lugging them about
from bus to ship and should anything amiss happen to the bus – ie breaking
down, caught up in traffic, the ship will hang on for us. That wouldn’t happen if we were in our own
car. (Coming home we were delayed by
over two hours because of 2 huge crashes on the motorway – so it happens).
We always seem to stop at Northampton services, which has
become part of our little regime. The
service there is always so awful, it just serves to prepare us for the different
world waiting for us around the corner. I’m
giddy as a kipper, Mr C doesn’t see it (yet).
From arriving at the docks we’re checked in and clear
customs within half an hour.
Mr C
thought the ship would be big but I don’t think he was prepared just for how
massive she is as he has a slight panic about how something the size of a small
village is going to be able to float.
Mr
C is now armed with his cruise card which acts as his passport, his cabin key and
his ‘credit card’ whilst on holiday. The
word ‘cabin’ has obviously confused him.
He thinks that we’ll be in hammocks with only a small porthole to see
out of. I watch his face as we enter the
body of the ship and it’s wearing an expression of ‘wow’. That’s nothing compared to his first sight of
the ‘cabin’ – a lovely roomy 4 berth with a living area, two TVs, fridge, large
ensuite and a balcony. Ice-wine (oh the
nicest beverage in the world) is waiting for us in an ice bucket from my lovely
friend Michele – and welcome chocolates for the boys. At least the boys took it that they were for
them from the speed they tore into them.
It doesn’t take us long to unpack as there is just the one
formal night on this cruise. There is
plenty of room for all our clothes.
Tweenage boys tend to take up a lot of space, but we aren’t falling over
each other by any stretch. We take Mr C
on a whistle-stop tour of the bars and restaurants and the theatre. You really see the true length of the ship
when you’re on a residential corridor – it feels an incredibly long walk back
to the cabin if you pick the wrong staircase .
Mr C was expecting one restaurant, one swimming pool, one bar. There are twelve restaurants and four
pools. And a sports court.
There is the obligatory life-jacket safety meeting
and once
that’s out of the way, things feel more in holiday mode. The brass band on the dockside plays as we
push away into the sea. We don’t have a
celebratory glass of champers as we’ve just devoured the Ice-wine and any more
booze would see us floating without the aid of a boat.
We have a bit of a scrub-up for dinner. It’s casual on the first night, but still
nice to change and be fresh. Mr C thinks
the menu is the same on every night and can’t quite believe that it
changes. His brain starts whirring about
how much food that must mean they carry in the galleys. I – me – Mrs Stress-head – tell him to chill and pick up the
wine-list. The prices of booze on board
are surprisingly good value. In fact the
gorge Pinotage which my eyes always drift to is one of the nicest I’ve ever had
and would cost much more in a Leeds bar.
Mr C is more than peckish now, as we haven’t had anything since a very
early lunch stop so a starter, soup, main, dessert, cheeseboard, coffee and
petit-fours is a welcome prospect – except he’s pig-full by dessert and can’t
fit anything else in. The people on the
next table have a birthday so there’s the waiter chorus of Happy Birthday – the
most tuneless singing in the world, but one which no holiday on a P & O
ship is complete without. I’m waiting for the CD.
He’s loving the ambience of the restaurants and the friendliness of the waiters and can’t believe how alive the ship is after dinner.Spoilt for choice what to do: shop, go and see a show, visit the casino… we plump for the coffee bar:The Tazzine. And the Metropolis - right at the top of the shop. The sea is calm as milk – Mr C can’t actually believe we’re moving.He’s heard too many stories about force 13 gales but the ship is rock-steady, the sun is blasting out rays – we could be in the Med rather than heading towards Zeebrugge
We have a relatively early night because it’s been a long
day and we’ve got a trip booked to Bruges.
Our cabin has been tidied up, chocolates placed on our pillows, the
lighting subdued and the beds turned down.
Mr C isn’t used to this treatment (and he better not get used to it at
my house either!) We have a coffee on the balcony, looking at the moon and
nothing else really and Mr C can’t quite believe that he feels the ‘nothing’ is
a really nice sight. Rather disappointingly for me, the ship doesn’t rock me to
sleep with that cradle-effect that can have other people reaching for the
sick-bags. It’s so steady, we could be
on dry land.
Bruges is our stop the next day. It’s boiling – but getting on the bus and
being presented with free Belgian chocs makes me think I’ve booked the right
trip. After weeks of rain the sight of a
honey-yellow sun is divine (although when we ring home, Barnsley is having the
same so we can’t gloat as much as we’d like).
Bruges is delightful - like a cobbled street town from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. We half expect to see Benny Hill working from a toyshop here. It's much bigger than I imagined, with pretty pealing bells and chocolate shops EVERYWHERE. Quite imaginative designs of chocolates too (gulp!)
The heat drives us into a roadside bar at lunchtime where we
are forced to partake of the local blond beer – and thank God for that. It’s like nectar.
My son picks the best thing on the menu – the
local speciality: beef stew cooked in
brown beer with ‘frites’ (which always sound so much crunchier and healthier
than chips).
Luckily the heat forces us
into another bar later on where we have more local beer and the lads have a
waffle.
Obviously I buy chocolates – in a traditional shape as I’m not sure my dad would appreciate chocolate reproductive organs.
Obviously I buy chocolates – in a traditional shape as I’m not sure my dad would appreciate chocolate reproductive organs.
We wave goodbye to a very warm Bruges as we get tarted up for the formal night. Mr C, not normally happiest in suits, is totally up for that. ‘Do people usually make the effort?’ he asks, unable to quite believe that nearly everyone is swanning around in long dresses or cocktail dresses –even the women! Some men are in suits, some hardened cruisers in their tuxedos.
Mr C – bless him – thought that everyone walked around in tuxedos during the day as well. Ah the myths there are on ships! He now realises that you don’t need horribly expensive ball-gowns and Moss Bros suits on cruises. One black frock with a different necklace does me for at least two posh nights. He decides to fit in a few catalogue poses - I feel obliged to assist.
I have a gorgeous meal this evening – asparagus with a duck’s
egg and parmesan crisp,
lobster
and then a pear tarte with vanilla pod ice-cream
Then we are off to the cabaret lounge to watch a comedian. If you would have told me that I’d be fascinated by a bloke standing on a stage making noises like trains, I would have laughed you out of town. But I am amazed. So – never say never.
lobster
and then a pear tarte with vanilla pod ice-cream
Then we are off to the cabaret lounge to watch a comedian. If you would have told me that I’d be fascinated by a bloke standing on a stage making noises like trains, I would have laughed you out of town. But I am amazed. So – never say never.
On the third day we land in Le Havre. I cocked up a bit really as I booked us on a
trip to Paris for the day – which is over a three hour drive away. ‘Oh you should have gone to Honfleur – it’s
the prettiest place in the world!’ said my friend Michele. But I tried too hard
to impress – and that was a mistake because you really don’t need to try on a
ship. It’s impressive enough without any
extra effort.
Still – it is again the most beautiful sunshiney day and
nice to wander around Paris. We pass the Princess Diana memorial above the tunnel where she died. The flame is an exact replica of the flame on the Statue of Liberty.
We have a lovely walk to the Trocadero to take pics and sit by the fountain where my son made us all v envious by jumping into the water because it was so unbelievably hot.
Then we take the Metro to Tuileries so I can drag everyone to Angelinas for the best hot chocolate in the world.
A great plan – except that we are wilting in the heat and only want beer, very cold beer. So I can’t show off the chocolate, but I can show off the ice-cream.
Their ‘Marron’ ice-cream is to die for.
We have a lovely walk to the Trocadero to take pics and sit by the fountain where my son made us all v envious by jumping into the water because it was so unbelievably hot.
Then we take the Metro to Tuileries so I can drag everyone to Angelinas for the best hot chocolate in the world.
A great plan – except that we are wilting in the heat and only want beer, very cold beer. So I can’t show off the chocolate, but I can show off the ice-cream.
Their ‘Marron’ ice-cream is to die for.
Luckily I don’t die though
and it gives me a bit of a chance to show off my masterly local ordering of
different flavours of ice-cream. (I
tried speaking French in Bruges yesterday where they speak Dutch and thought I
was Italian… so I had points to earn back).
It is a long journey back – we slept – and we go straight
into dinner. Mr C is now fully in cruise
mode. It’s about after three days that
you ‘slip into’ the holiday I always feel.
He’s loving the ship so much, I could have cancelled the trip to Paris
and just sat around the pool doing nothing and I think he’d have enjoyed it
more.
We go to see a show in the theatre, have a cocktail in Las
Ramblas which is the most chilled out place on the ship for me – all Spanishy
and live guitar music in the background.
And cracking Sangria.
I don’t know who switched on the weather but it’s absolutely gorgeous. When we retire to the cabin, the lads are peckish (what!!!?) So they decide to order some pizza and pasta from Room Service. Mr C volunteers to pay. It's free, laugh the lads. Mr C thinks they’re joking – they aren’t! (my son sneaked out on the balcony with his!)
I don’t know who switched on the weather but it’s absolutely gorgeous. When we retire to the cabin, the lads are peckish (what!!!?) So they decide to order some pizza and pasta from Room Service. Mr C volunteers to pay. It's free, laugh the lads. Mr C thinks they’re joking – they aren’t! (my son sneaked out on the balcony with his!)
The last day is spent in Guernsey. A cloud drifts past the blue sky, realises he’s
on his own and so buggers off embarrassed.
We go downstairs for a posh breakfast this morning, picked from a menu
and served by waiters rather than the buffet serve-yourself restaurant
upstairs. It’s tenders to get ashore –
my faves – lovely little bouncy boats to carry you from the ship.
We have a lovely walk around, but it’s too English for me with all those shop names: Monsoon, Boots, C & A (C & A!!!!). It’s too much of a reminder that I’m near home and I don’t want to be because it’s all been too nice – again. And any cruise I’ve ever been on ‘could have been a bit longer.’
We have a lovely walk around, but it’s too English for me with all those shop names: Monsoon, Boots, C & A (C & A!!!!). It’s too much of a reminder that I’m near home and I don’t want to be because it’s all been too nice – again. And any cruise I’ve ever been on ‘could have been a bit longer.’
When we get back to the ship, we find some sun-beds and the
lads get in the pool and I know that
Mr C will love his sea-days more than the port days when he comes back – and he
will… because I’ve got him hooked now, like some benign drug-pusher. The lads decide to go off and get a burger
from Frankie’s the poolside restaurant – Mr C again whips out his card and again
the lads chuckle because it’s free. He can’t
believe it that you can just go and get food and not have to pay ( It’s too dangerously
wonderful and now he’s back home, I hope he doesn’t try it in Macdonalds).
Today has been easy and relaxed and I think his favourite day because he didn’t have to get up early to get on a trip. He stretches out on a sunbed with his drink and I feel his bones sighing.
As a taster this cruise has whetted his appetite and he wants more because the ship-magic has worked. It’s lived up to all my hype. (We’ve only been back two days and he’s bought a bow-tie).
Today has been easy and relaxed and I think his favourite day because he didn’t have to get up early to get on a trip. He stretches out on a sunbed with his drink and I feel his bones sighing.
As a taster this cruise has whetted his appetite and he wants more because the ship-magic has worked. It’s lived up to all my hype. (We’ve only been back two days and he’s bought a bow-tie).
We have dinner
then watch a comedian, walk around the deck with the stunningly gorgeous backdrop of a glass-like sea and a pink sun.
Our bags are packed and left out at night to be taken ashore. Posh breakfast the next morning in the restaurant to send us on our way and we’re back to earth with a bump stuck in traffic jams after a fatal crash on the M1. Some poor sod isn’t going to be booking any more holidays – that makes me extra keen somehow to get home and whip out my brochure.
Would I recommend this cruise? As a test for anyone not sure if cruising is
for them – oh yes. One formal night is
perfect – not too much pressure on finding a wardrobe (although I do have
friends who don’t take a suit at all because they spend all day at work in
suits and so prefer to eat up in the buffets in the evening which is a much
more casual affair!) It’s just enough
time to feel yourself falling under a ship spell, if you’re going to – and if
you hate it, well, it’s not too long until you’re back home (Can’t say I’ve
ever met anyone who has hated it, although there must be some - I'm just glad I'm not one of them.)then watch a comedian, walk around the deck with the stunningly gorgeous backdrop of a glass-like sea and a pink sun.
Our bags are packed and left out at night to be taken ashore. Posh breakfast the next morning in the restaurant to send us on our way and we’re back to earth with a bump stuck in traffic jams after a fatal crash on the M1. Some poor sod isn’t going to be booking any more holidays – that makes me extra keen somehow to get home and whip out my brochure.
The main myths dispelled for Mr C are that a cruise is for 'old, posh people'. The Ventura is a family ship and there's loads to do for people of all ages. That people have to spend a fortune on designer gear for the night - and the day. Prada and Primark mix quite beautifully. And you won't find anyone walking around in a ballgown during the day - it's comfort first and bugger the designer names. That people don't spend half their holiday being sick over the side because the boat is rocking like newlyweds in a caravan. The ships are fully stabilised - but yep, when there are high winds, there is movement (a jab in your bottom from the onboard doc will sort you out - it's bloody fabulous). This cruise was as steady as a plastic surgeon's hand. That you're going to be cramped. There's LOADS of space on board so Claustrophobics won't need extra meds. And it's SAFE. You might be 19 storeys up and looking over at the sea but the only way you're going to end up overboard is if you deliberately climb up over the barriers and throw yourself into the briney. You can't 'slip' through the railings (even if you did lay off the cream teas). And it's nigh on impossible to be bored. If quizzes, swimming, theatres, gyms, comedians, live music, dancing, shopping, lectures, the spa, scoffing, port visits, the cinema aren't enough for you, then good luck finding a holiday that does 'float your boats.'
The blow of getting home is a sort of soft one for me as I’ll
be back on board within weeks ‘working’ on a much longer cruise in the
Med. One where I’ll be able to immerse
myself fully into the lovely relaxing life, napping during the day on a sun-bed
and hoping the lads give me a nudge if I start snoring. As soon as we’re booked up on our next one
with Mr C, I can guarantee he’ll start ticking the days down to lying out and
vegging on that sunbed. That’s what
happens when the addiction kicks in ;)
Thanks to P and O Cruises as always.
For anyone who wants to read my book about fictional women on a real cruise in the summer slip 'Here Come The Girls' in your holiday luggage. A few people have written to me to say that they've booked their first cruise after reading it - if that's happened to you, I'd love to know about it :)
AND if you want to win a free copy of Here Come The Girls - just tell me which your fave P & O ship is and why. I'll ask the lovely Michele Andjel there to help me pick. Competition ends on 10th September.
Milly x
Follow P & O on Twitter - @pandocruises