IT’S A BALMY
night on the Tyrrhenian Sea as the Club Med 2 plows a course toward northeastern Sicily. Passengers stylishly attired for the evening’s “dolce vita” dress theme are gathered around the bar on the aft pool deck to watch a gyrating dance routine by the ship’s young hosting staff (known in Club Med parlance as GOS, or gentils organisateur). Champagne and digestifs flow freely as the electro-pop soundtrack chases our wake across the inky waters of the Mediterranean.
Most of us only learn about Mount Etna’s eruption at the Port of Catania the next morning. The tallest and most active volcano in Europe was thought by the ancient Greeks to be home to the forges of the fire-god Hephaestus, and he’s been busy: the mountain burst into action overnight, spewing a fountain of lava from its southeast crater. Sicilians are accustomed to such tantrums. “Did you see it? The sky was glowing red,” says our unflappable local tour guide, Francesca, on the bus ride up Etna’s ash-covered flanks. “But it is over now, nothing to worry about. Maybe you get a leetle ash on your heads.” Indeed, it looks like business as usual at the Silvestri Craters visitors’ area, which sits amid a wasteland of black lava fields and extinct cinder cones some 1,400 meters below Etna’s cloud-hidden summit. The only heat here comes from a shot of Fuoco dell’etna, a fieryred liqueur sold at the on-site gift shop.
And the tourist crowds are as thick as can be at Taormina, the high point of our day’s excursion. Extolled by early-20thcentury visitors such as D.H. Lawrence and Ernest Hemingway, and more recently flaunted in The White Lotus season two, the medieval hilltop town has long been Sicily’s most celebrated resort. It’s undeniably picturesque, though perhaps best visited outside of the summer high season; Corso Umberto, the main pedestrian street, throngs with strollers, and a lengthy queue deprives me of the chance to see Taormina’s ancient Greek theater. I console myself with views of the luminous coastline below — and a creamy pistachio cannoli. Then it’s back to the ship for a rest or, for those so inclined, yoga, Tabata workouts, Ping-pong, or poker.
I’m not, truth be told, really a cruise person. But then Club Med 2 is not your typical cruise ship. “We are a yacht,” insists cruise director Jean-charles Thillays. “Here, you can feel the old-school yachting spirit of the French Riviera.”
First launched in 1992, Club Med 2 is the only ship operated by the French all-inclusive resort brand Club Med. (Her sister vessel Club Med 1, built two years earlier in the same Le Havre shipyard, was sold to Windstar Cruises in 1998 and rechristened Wind Surf.) With five towering masts and a suit of computeraugust
controlled staysails that unfurl whenever the wind warrants it, she’s billed as the world’s largest sailing yacht, though one that’s still dwarfed by most cruise ships out there. The rakish hull — 187 meters long, 20 wide, and fitted with a clipper-type bow — contains 184 cabins, so even with a full compliment of passengers, as there is on this cruise, it never feels overcrowded. Just as important, getting on and off at our various ports of call is a smooth and stress-free process.
While they would benefit from a refurb, the cabins are well thought-out and comfortable, with a set of porthole windows and all sorts of places to stow your belongings. Halfway through the seven-night voyage from the Sicilian capital of Palermo to Brindisi on Italy’s heel, I’m still discovering cleverly concealed compartments. Toiletries by French beauty brand Sothys and bedside USB ports are other smart touches.
The latter were introduced during a multimillion-dollar refit completed ahead of the ship’s 2022 winter season in the Caribbean (she relocates back to the Mediterranean each spring for sailings through early fall). Led by French architect and scenographer Sophie Jacqmin, the makeover of the interiors focused on public spaces such as the formal à la carte restaurant Le Monte-carlo, which has been elegantly reimagined with nautical-chic decor and a centerpiece glass installation that resembles a Fresnel lens. Likewise the Yacht Club Lounge, an entertainment venue for documentary screenings and lively stage shows by the GOS; it now sports beachy hues and a more open layout that takes advantage of the panoramic sea views on either side. There’s also an upgraded spa and cardio training room, as well as 2,500 square meters of refinished Vietnamese teak decking, with plenty of deck chairs to go around.
The food throughout the voyage is solidly good, as you’d expect on a ship that caters primarily to a well-heeled French clientele. (One exception is Ryan, a financier from New York, here with his wife and two teenage daughters. He doesn’t speak a word of French, but he’s having the time of his life.) The buffets at Le Saint-tropez, the more casual upper-deck restaurant, are loaded with fresh Mediterranean flavors that change from one sitting to the next, though there’s always a classic pasta dish, grilled catch of the day, cheeses and charcuterie, and a diet-busting selection of desserts. Le Monte-carlo kicks things up a notch or two with a bistronomic menu conceived by Paris’s renowned Ferrandi culinary school, which has also trained the restaurant’s chefs. One night, I dine on artichoke barigoule, truffle-scented Carnaroli risotto, and slow-roasted beef tenderloin with foie gras and Madeira sauce.
Fortunately, there are plenty of opportunities to work off such indulgences. Because of her size, Club Med 2 can visit places that are out of reach of big cruise ships and their throngs of passengers. Like Lipari, our first port of call after boarding in Palermo. The largest of Sicily’s Aeolian Islands, Lipari is certainly not untouristed, but its pretty little harbor, flanked by an equally pretty piazza and overlooked by the walls of a 16thcentury citadel, is only suited for fishing boats and other small craft. This is where Club Med 2’s “beachers” come in — canopied
tender boats so-named because they’re designed to run straight up on a beach (not that we ever do that). At Lipari, they shuttle passengers back and forth from the ship every 30 minutes, enhancing the feeling that we’re traveling aboard a private yacht. I use my time ashore to tour the castle’s archaeological museum — the impressive holdings include a trove of terra-cotta Greek theater masks and ancient amphorae salvaged from shipwrecks — and acquainting myself with the sweet local wine.
It’s a similar story four days later at Parga, a colorful cascade of houses on the parched west coast of mainland Greece. We’re dropped by tender at a concrete pier framed on one side by a hilltop Venetian castle and on the other by Kryoneri Beach, its umbrella-studded sands already packed with sunbathers at 9 a.m. A group of us have signed up for a bus excursion inland to see the ominous-sounding Nekromanteion of Acheron — a Hellenistic necromancy temple built on what was long believed to be a portal to the underworld — and the ruins of Nicopolis, the city founded by Rome’s first emperor, Octavian, to celebrate his victory over Antony and Cleopatra in the nearby Bay of Actium. The ancientness of it all is dizzying. Back in Parga, I stop at a taverna on the town’s seafront promenade for a glass of ouzo and some grilled octopus. Just beyond the bay, Club Med 2 lays at anchor on the glinting Ionian Sea. My eyes are not the only ones drawn to her graceful profile. Following my gaze when he comes by with more ouzo, the owner’s grandson lets out an appreciative whistle. “Ah, what a beauty,” he says, topping up my glass.
Whenever the anchorage is suitable, the ship’s stern opens like a drawbridge to reveal an onboard water-sports center dubbed Nautical Hall. The first time it does this is off Zakynthos. While some of us depart for a private boat tour of the Greek island’s sea caves and plunging limestone cliffs (ever heard of Shipwreck Beach? This is where you find it), others head to the open stern for everything from snorkeling and sailing to water skiing, windsurfing, and pedalboarding.
There are no such fun and games at Corfu, where we dock at a deep-water harbor alongside a trio of megaships, including a 17-story behemoth from the Virgin Voyages fleet. We bide our time on deck while they disgorge their thousands of passengers, regarding the human cargo with an unbidden twinge of seagoing snobbery. Spending time on Club Med 2 will do that to you.
Like chaotically seductive Palermo, I add Corfu’s Old Town to my list of places to revisit in a more congenial season. Even with the better part of a day to explore its atmospheric jumble of arcaded shops and campaniles and stone-flagged squares, much of it built by the Venetians during their 400-year occupation of the island, I barely scratch the surface. As it is, I only just make it back to the ship in time for her 6 p.m. sharp departure.
That evening, as we cruise along the Albanian coast toward Brindisi, a murmur of excitement ripples through the aperitifhour crowd at Le Portofino bar: dauphins. Sure enough, a pod of bottlenose dolphins is slicing through the water beyond the ship’s starboard railings.
“C’est magique! ” exclaims the passenger standing next to me. Then it’s time for one last dinner, one last show, one last DJ set under the starry Mediterranean sky. All Club Meders now, we dance the night away.
After wintering in the Caribbean, Club Med 2 will return to the Mediterranean next May for its 2024 summer season. Itineraries vary from cruise to cruise, with seven-night sailings starting from about US$3,675 per person, all-inclusive.