A majestic way t
Shortly before 6am, the sun rose like a postcard. For a few quiet moments, the handful of passengers on the bow of the Majestic Princess stood in awe. Then they switched their cellphones to “selfie”, balanced that far away sun in their strategically outstretched hands and posted the moment to social media.
Nowhere does the sublimation of nature feel more complete than on a cruise ship. Outside, endless seas. Inside, animal towel-folding demonstrations!
Japan was behind us, Taiwan ahead of us. That rising sun was a scarlet mirror ball. It was also a red hot frying pan, a ruby grapefruit and a pomodoro pizza. It had been a full seven hours since my last meal.
On a cruise ship, you are never more than 3.6m away from a food and beverage option*. Fact: Later that day I would consume a steak the size of my head with a side of lobster tail.
“Is the melted butter for dipping?” I asked a shipmate. “It’s for pouring,” she said. I followed her lead. My lobster was a teensy bit dry.
The Majestic Princess voyages to Australia and New Zealand in September. I was on board back in May, for a three-night “culinary cruise” from Keelung, Taiwan to Okinawa, Japan and back again.
The ship is the biggest in the Princess fleet. I gave the numbers a perfunctory glance but consider this: its 330m length is equivalent to lying the Sky Tower on its side, PLUS a rugby field. First impressions? Dizzying.
Second impressions: Don’t look down — that cantilevered glass “seawalk” is almost 40m above the ocean.
Cruise ships are not everybody’s cup of bottomless tea. But as I’ve got older (and by that I mean closer to 50 than 40) the appeal of a single unpack and zero airport lounges and train stations between countries has grown. At the same time, the cruise industry has embraced gastronomic tourism. The all-you-can-eat buffet is still there, but on the Majestic Princess you’ll also find a dim sum bar, a pizzeria, aforementioned steak grill house, and two restaurants with Michelin-star chef connections. There were 13 different dining options all up. I boarded on the premise that if breakfast was the most important meal of the day, then two breakfasts would make me very important indeed.
It’s easy to feel entitled on a cruise ship. Everyone smiles at you. You can wear sequins to formal night and Lycra to line dancing and you will always look beautiful. Your water glass is never, ever empty. If you have your first complimentary breakfast in the Allegro dining room, a waiter will place a real cloth napkin on your lap. That morning, the ship rocked oh-so-gently and classical music tinkled in the background. I felt calm. Contemplative. I ordered a steamed bun, an omelette, three spinach dumplings and sat in awe of the man next to me who ate two fried eggs with a pair of chopsticks.
Next stop: World Fresh Market.
The plates are plastic and the hand-washing compulsory (a smiling crew member is permanently stationed at the basin to check you’re appropriately sanitised). It is a buffet, but it was not the bun fight I was expecting, even at the all-you-can-dollop guacamole station. In the bright morning light, the only thing between me,