Travel feature

The following is a travel feature written for Woman’s Own magazine.

‘Dear all. Cheerio, I’ve run away to sea.’ I don’t know why I left that note at work, really. I’ve just always wanted to, I suppose. But it genuinely was to be an ocean-going 10 days for me as I boarded the cruiser liner Sea Princess in Vancouver, Canada. I was en route, via the whale-inhabited waters of the Inside Passage, to Seward, Alaska.
The sheer scale of the ship is the first thing that strikes you: 77,000 tons, 14 decks and 3,000 people, 2,000 of whom are passengers.
It’s a vast, floating hotel and I spent the first afternoon getting agreeably lost before returning to my snug, well-appointed cabin and getting togged-up for dinner.
Dress is formal for two evenings, semi-formal and casual for the rest, although no one will object to you and your partner donning ball gown and black tie every night if you fancy a spot of the Kate ‘n’ Leonardos.
On the subject of dinner, we may as well clear up the food question right now. The ship’s menu is good for dieters, as long as you follow a diet that allows you to eat as much fantastically rich, beautifully cooked food as you like.
North Americans love their food, and I heard no complaints. There’s a great wine list, too. You can dine whenever and wherever you wish, but I was more than happy to hang out and join up with the charming Texan family I met and sat with on my first night.
After the initial wonders of the Sea Princess, the beauty of the coastline soon takes over and our itinerary gave us the opportunity to visit three towns on the way to the silent majesty of Glacier Bay.
Juneau was rainy but pretty – you have to expect weather fluctuations across Alaska. It wasn’t as cold as I expected, but a phrase I heard a lot was, ‘If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes.'
Ketchikan is a tourist town, and if you’re not busy on an excursion, your wallet may well become an endangered species.
Skagway was once the target of the original gold prospectors and still has the myths and legends of a goldrush town. It was also where I took my on-shore excursion…
A helicopter whipped us high above Skagway and over the craggy wedding cake of the Cassiar Mountains before setting us down on a glacier – and we weren’t alone. The husky dog camp there had over 100 dogs and a dozen or so ‘mushers’, and before I knew it I was hurtling round the glacier, pulled by 10 beautiful dogs and trying to recall how that sleigh-ride bit in Dr Zhivago goes. They even let me act as ‘brakeman’ for a while, and getting 10 flying hounds to turn left at the same time is surprisingly easy. It was truly exhilarating!
Back on board after my icy adventures, some entertainment was in order. Whether you prefer a dance revue or carpet golf, you’re in luck. Or you can just lounge-lizard around, soaking up the ambience provided by a fine supporting cast of musicians and personable staff. If you insist on keeping fit, there are gyms, spas and pools taking up what could be valuable bar space, and even I hit a few virtual golf balls on a simulator – more than enough exercise for one week. Apart from lifting chips at the roulette table, that is, and relieving the ship’s casino of a few dollars. Oh, and climbing all the way out to the hot tub on the top deck.
There’s one last natural miracle to go; Glacier Bay. It’s almost eerie in its silence as the boat glides past great ice castles. Occasionally, a great wedge of ice will crash into the sea, producing what the local Tlingit Indians call ‘white thunder’.
There was just time for bit of last-night decadence, with champagne, cocktails and my own acclaimed take on the chicken dance in Rocky’s nightclub, then suddenly we were in Seward.
I looked frantically for a spare cabin steward’s uniform or somewhere to stow away but it was too late – before I knew it, I was on the ramp, in the coach and on my way to Anchorage. One of these days, I really must go down to the sea again.