As I write this, I am ensconced in King’s Court’s Lotus cafeteria, in a glass alcove which juts out onto the promenade deck. It is 6 AM and the sun ahead of me is just beginning to break the horizon. Almost no passengers are awake, and the only sounds are light disco muzak and the kitchen help further inboard preparing breakfast. Crew members squeegee the windows and wooden deck. About 8 or 9 AM they will bring out the green cushions for the wooden deck chairs that line the railing. It’s wonderful. We have been at sea for two-and-a-half days and are not yet that far east of Newfoundland, having turned northeast some hours ago. We have a few days to go. I will hate to see it end.
A book was published almost thirty years ago titled “The Only Way to Cross,” written by well-known maritime historian and author John Maxtone-Graham. The title is right on the money. I don’t know why anyone would fly when they could sail. I’ve heard that there are two-and-a-half crew members for every passenger, and I believe it. Stewards and waiters almost leap at you to assist you, from the Brooklyn Terminal (plentiful parking at $20 a day and luggage whisked away almost before your car stops) to your stateroom. One is well-served here.
Donna and I are berthed in what in another day might have been called “third-class” or perhaps “white collar steerage”. The cabin, though small and windowless, is nevertheless attractive, well-designed, and cushiony-comfortable, a model of efficiency. We have a king-size bed flanked by two nightstands with lamps. Our small bathroom is bright, with a tiny sink, commode, and 2’ x 3’ shower. The plumbing is not quite up to speed, but nevertheless is more than adequate. Opposite the bed is the door, and a short “hallway” lined with a plethora of closets, cupboards, and drawers, all of blond veneer and making it very easy to keep the room uncluttered if one is so inclined. At the foot of the bed, to one side, is a wing chair with small table, and on the other side a small desk and television, which offers perhaps 20 channels, including Fox News, BBC, and a handful of second-run movie services, plus QM2’s own channel, which broadcasts information like captain’s announcements, time, course, location, weather, etc. Nearby can be found a couple of American and European-style outlets (called, I’m told, “points” by the British). Also found here is a miniature refrigerator, which now houses a small bottle of champagne,“compliments of the captain.”
There is no doubt that it is considerably cheaper to fly to Britain than sail Here on the QM2, for a stay of almost 6 days, you get luxury accommodations, with unlimited food and beverages, and plenty of activities to do. Tips are included. A credit card-like pass serves as both your room key and method of payment for everything. Charges are simply forwarded to a credit card whose account number one submits when one orders tickets. Stewards and stewardesses work very hard here and pamper you. Not true on many other vacations. Ours calls himself “Edwin”. He is smiley, ever-present, and friendly, and calls us by name. He is also Asian. All help here are foreigners, and they are hard to understand, but do a great job.
A book was published almost thirty years ago titled “The Only Way to Cross,” written by well-known maritime historian and author John Maxtone-Graham. The title is right on the money. I don’t know why anyone would fly when they could sail. I’ve heard that there are two-and-a-half crew members for every passenger, and I believe it. Stewards and waiters almost leap at you to assist you, from the Brooklyn Terminal (plentiful parking at $20 a day and luggage whisked away almost before your car stops) to your stateroom. One is well-served here.
Donna and I are berthed in what in another day might have been called “third-class” or perhaps “white collar steerage”. The cabin, though small and windowless, is nevertheless attractive, well-designed, and cushiony-comfortable, a model of efficiency. We have a king-size bed flanked by two nightstands with lamps. Our small bathroom is bright, with a tiny sink, commode, and 2’ x 3’ shower. The plumbing is not quite up to speed, but nevertheless is more than adequate. Opposite the bed is the door, and a short “hallway” lined with a plethora of closets, cupboards, and drawers, all of blond veneer and making it very easy to keep the room uncluttered if one is so inclined. At the foot of the bed, to one side, is a wing chair with small table, and on the other side a small desk and television, which offers perhaps 20 channels, including Fox News, BBC, and a handful of second-run movie services, plus QM2’s own channel, which broadcasts information like captain’s announcements, time, course, location, weather, etc. Nearby can be found a couple of American and European-style outlets (called, I’m told, “points” by the British). Also found here is a miniature refrigerator, which now houses a small bottle of champagne,“compliments of the captain.”
There is no doubt that it is considerably cheaper to fly to Britain than sail Here on the QM2, for a stay of almost 6 days, you get luxury accommodations, with unlimited food and beverages, and plenty of activities to do. Tips are included. A credit card-like pass serves as both your room key and method of payment for everything. Charges are simply forwarded to a credit card whose account number one submits when one orders tickets. Stewards and stewardesses work very hard here and pamper you. Not true on many other vacations. Ours calls himself “Edwin”. He is smiley, ever-present, and friendly, and calls us by name. He is also Asian. All help here are foreigners, and they are hard to understand, but do a great job.
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