THE GULF OF ALASKA
Afuzzy head and a tired heart. That was how I left London. Overwhelmed by all that was happening in the world. Some part of me felt the need to head for the woods, pitch a tent, light a fire. Another part felt what the great outdoors was missing was a breakfast buffet and soft towels.
An Alaskan cruise proved an unlikely remedy. I had misconceptions, involving cabin fever and cabaret – but as I stepped on board the Celebrity Solstice, and found a glass of champagne and a sunny spot on deck, I realised here was simply a luxurious hotel that happened to be seafaring. And it would take us north from Seattle into the USA’S largest state with its snow-capped peaks and soaring eagles, dropping us at points along its unspoilt wilderness, and waiting to gather us safely back in later.
Inside the ship – all dark wood and low lighting – glass lifts whizz guests to the spa, the theatre, the bedrooms. We’re Aqua Class passengers – with a bedroom that’s more spacious than many hotels I’ve stayed in, and a dedicated restaurant away from the bustle of the main dining area. Its menu constantly surprises me. Our fellow cruisers turn out to be more diverse than I’d expected: honeymooners taking in the silent disco, couples dancing cheek-tocheek to the early-evening jazz band.
We’re too bewitched by the landscape to move far from a window. The Seattle cityscape gives way to remote mountains, fairy-tale forests and, after a day and half, the candy-coloured houses of Ketchikan, our first stop. Like each of the towns we call in at, boutiques compete to sell us furs, diamonds and art – and we’re not immune, but we let our guides take us beyond the shoreline. We hike through the Alaskan rainforest, martens scampering from our path and red squirrels chattering in the trees. As we approach a sun-dappled creek, we’re stopped in our tracks at the sight of a black bear and its cub through the trees, and I feel green shoots of wonder springing up inside me. At Ketchikan’s Totem Heritage Center, we see 19th-century carvings celebrating the legends of Native communities. From Skagway, heart of the gold rush, we take a train up into the lunar landscape of the mountains. In the Endicott Arm Fjord, we come face to face with the 360ft-high Dawes Glacier, and feel tiny as sheets of ice plummet into the sea below.
Gradually, Alaska breathes new life into me. And jet lag feels like a gift – I’m awake at 5am to see the sun rising gold and orange. After dinner, we retreat to our cosy cabin and sit on the balcony under blankets, watching whales sigh out their plumes of spray. We plan to watch a band one evening, but then notice pods of porpoises racing alongside the boat and nothing seems as important as staying to see them.
The buffet culture I’d feared comes to signify not excess, but freedom.
As I return to the ship rosy-cheeked from an evening of whale-watching on a separate vessel, I pick up hot slices of pizza and warming tea with a glow of contentment. I’m still exhilarated from the defining moment of my trip – far out in the ocean, the captain cuts the engine and we watch orcas play in the water. The snowy mountains, sea and sky make a harmonious palette of blues, and I realise there is nothing more I could wish to aspire to.