All at sea in a lazy daze
The sea dances for me. Swaying in rhythm with its partner, the ship, the ocean rouses me from my sleep. A day at sea lies ahead, full of possibilities and yet nothing at all. Nowhere to be, no one to see, no work to be done.
I ponder the options from a warm bed, which gently rocks like a cradle, until breakfast arrives with a murmuring waiter, luring me to the balcony. I watch the waves perform across the big, blue, frothy stage. Water slaps against the side of the vessel, as if applauding my choice of travel.
Exploring the outback, the red dust gets under your skin. In the snow, the dazzling white draws you in. On a cruise, it’s the endless blue that mesmerises. A sea day, with no ports of call, is a chance to soak in the vivid colours, the changing swell, the salty smell, and the calming effect as you gaze upon the horizon.
This is what cruising used to be about — the simple joy of the event itself, relaxing and reading, wining and dining, snoozing by day and schmoozing at night. You can keep your port days, rammed full of sightseeing, snorkelling and shopping. Give me a lazy sea daze instead.
When P&O (formerly known as the Peninsular & Oriental Steam Navigation Company) introduced cruising to the British public in the early 19th century, privileged passengers travelled with the Royal Mail to take