Life at sea continues – think the best luxury hotel that moves from location to location and you have Silver Cloud, the earliest (1994 vintage) of the Silversea fleet.
Admittedly the cabins, which they euphemistically call suites or staterooms, are smaller than most Holiday Inn rooms, but the storage is cleverly thought out and there is enough hanging space for even the most dedicated fashionista who has a different gown for every meal.
Yes, some change for breakfast, some change for lunch and, of course, dinner is regulated, from ‘formal’ (many white jackets and black ties), ‘informal’, which means jackets and no jeans, and ‘casual’, or anything goes.
Another day dawns and the gal is already running round the ninth-deck Astroturf circuit, six circuits per mile. The gym opens at 0630 and after a spell in there it is time for a swim – ten strokes and you reach the other end of the pool.
Why is there no-one else there at that hour? There are just under 300 onboard but some you never see. The gal was chatting to a lively youngish pair at the compulsory lifeboat drill just after boarding – and she has never come across them since.
Some spend a lot of time in the cabins, and some spend most of the heat of the day sunbathing. As Noel Coward said, Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
The lovely thing is you can eat whatever you like. My man might well combine Scandinavian and English from the breakfast buffet and I have been known to eat half a papaya and half a mango.
An American friend typically piles sweet and sour, if not the other two tastes of salt and bitter, simultaneously. Our butler Prabu is so personally diligent that every day I get a glass of just-squeezed juice brought to the cabin – hope he has enough oranges to keep going through the cruise.
Tonight it is time for legs and Louboutins, and Missoni really to show off. The Captain is hosting a loyalty cocktail. You become a member of Silversea’s Venetian Society as soon as you are repeat-sailing (last night the first-timers had their own miniparty). Tonight we old-timers are greeted by wenches behind Venetian carnival masks, and by The Captain himself. Tomorrow is Acapulco. Life at sea continues.