Around The World (Again And Again)

Some people really like cruises. I’ve been on two, and they were nice experiences.

But if you really like cruises, consider this option: a cruise line is offering people the chance to live at sea, in a cruise ship converted into a floating residence that will constantly circumnavigate the globe. One trip around the world will take about 27 months, with about 540 days spent in more than 200 ports that the ship will visit. Travelers/residents can rent a cabin for a minimum of six months–although many apparently have signed up for longer stints, with greater rent discounts–and the cheapest berth will cost $8,000 a month for two people, along with a $30,000 deposit. The priciest room is $35,000 a month for two people, with an $80,000 deposit. (That suite is already booked, in case you’re interested.)

You can see photos of the ship that will be carrying the passengers on their endless around-the-world trip, and some of the amenities it will offer, here. The cruise will be an adults-only affair. It is clearly catering to an older audience; a sales manager for the cruise line describes the ship as akin to “a retirement home on the water.” Of course, pretty much every cruise could be described in that way.

What would it be like to be on an endless cruise around the world? I’m not sure, but I do know this: I would definitely hope that I liked my fellow passengers, because after six months with them anyone who was annoying would really be getting on my nerves.

Big Boats

Oranjestad is the Aruban port where the big cruise ships dock. As we ate our dinner last night I marveled, once again, at just how huge some of the cruise ships are. This passing cruise liner was colossal, but it was dwarfed by an even bigger ship that left the port about a half hour earlier. I’ve never been on a ship of that size, but I imagine it carries thousands of passengers.

Whenever I see a cruise ship of that size, I think about what it would be like if The Poseidon Adventure were filmed on one of these modern, titanic vessels. Shelley Winters would have to do a lot more swimming, Gene Hackman would have even more perils to overcome, and it was take Ernest Borgnine a lot longer to get everyone to the propeller shaft.

Hilltopping

Over the weekend we set out on the Margaret Hill trail in a bid to scale the two tallest peaks in the western part of the island: Caneel Hill and Margaret Hill. Neither is particularly tall by the standards of, say, the Rockies or even the Appalachians. According to our excellent topographical map, available from the National Park Service for only $4.00, Caneel Hill is slightly less than 800 feet above sea level, and Margaret Hill is not quite 100 feet taller. But they certainly feel taller than that, as you scramble dead uphill from the trailhead on the northshore road, and they offer commanding views to the north and west.

To the north, pictured above, you see Whistling Cay to the left and, to the right and in the distance, you see the islands of the British Virgin Islands — or, to use the lingo of the locals, the BVI. Somewhere out there in the water the international boundary lurks, but the locals don’t seem to pay too much attention to it, especially if they are heading to the party beaches of Jost Van Dyke, which offers a kind of continuous spring break atmosphere.

From the lookout point rock atop Margaret Hill, show below, you get a bird’s eye view of the town of Cruz Bay and, off to the right, the island of St. Thomas, which is a part of the USVI. At night, the cruise ships, all lit up like floating Christmas trees steamy by St. John just to the left, south of the island, in a glittering single file parade. Who’d have thought there were so many cruise ships?

The path down Margaret Hill leads to the Caneel Bay resort, still closed in the wake of Hurricane Irma, which pulverized the island some 18 months ago. Watch your step, because the footing on the way down can be treacherous — but the chance to be a hilltopper is worth it.

Truising (Or Craining)

Being aboard the Rocky Mountaineer is a lot like being on a cruise ship.  There’s an overarching emphasis on pampering the travelers.  Each train car has legions of people waiting on you hand and foot and pointing out that osprey nest that is coming up around the corner, or the big horn sheep trotting by.

Oh, yeah — there’s also a lot of focus on food and drink.  

Every car has its own white tablecloth dining room and kitchen.  You get seated with other travelers in your car — so far, we’ve broken bread with a couple from Florida and a couple from Germany — and you order your main course off the menu while they bring you other treats, like the fruit concoction pictured above that we got at breakfast.  It was a kind of delicious combination of orange juice and fruit sections, topped with a plump, juicy, tart gooseberry.  Not a bad way to start your breakfast!

In addition to the two sit-down meals, you’re also plied with snacks and as many drinks as you can inhale, the better to appreciate the scenery rolling by.  It’s a pretty civilized way to travel.  Call it truising — or maybe craining.

Cruise Ship On The Night Sea

While we were at a cocktail party tonight on Antigua, a fully lit cruise ship sailed past in the distance.  I’m not sure whether it looked more like a Christmas tree or the Mother Ship from Close Encounters of the Third Kind, but either way it was an awesome sight.