Reflecting on My First Cruise Experience

On the second evening of the cruise, I began to suspect I had made a poor decision. A bartender casually informed me that the rooftop jacuzzis closed whenever someone first vomited in them. Seeing them drained the next morning, I optimistically assumed it was part of a regular cleaning routine rather than a consequence of a gastronomic mishap by a fellow passenger. I hesitated on whether to enlighten my boyfriend or let him remain blissfully ignorant of this unpleasant reality. Ultimately, I chose to share the burden of this unsettling truth with him.

Initially, I thought my boyfriend's tale of winning a free cruise through playing Tetris on his phone was a joke. Yet it turned out to be true after years of subway commutes in New York City accumulated reward points through the game, which is linked to a casino app. This kind of modern-day lure successfully pulled us into booking the trip.

I have always held a skeptical view of cruises, seeing them as breeding grounds for illness and overcrowding. The idea of being headline news due to diseases or mysterious vanishing acts is unappealing. I have no need for a cruise director, literal or symbolic, to shape my travel plans.

However, the allure of ‘free’ persuaded us to go ahead, although the trip was not without hidden costs. Unexpected charges and taxes cropped up, and we indulged in a cabin with a view for a small fee, along with an unlimited drinks package, which has delayed my annual check-up due to the week-long alcohol-intensive mornings.

Disconnection and Adjustment

Striving for a digital detox, we didn't pay for WiFi, leaving us with only 75 minutes of online time except for two days ashore. My therapist labeled this ‘enforced relaxation.’ I chose to regard it as a chance for a full disconnect, though bets were made among friends about my ability to go without internet, and I assured my mother that any major incident would surely make headlines.

Trying to embrace our journey with tentative hope, we found the cruise neither amazing nor abhorrent, just adequate. This mundane mediocrity felt odd amidst societal pressures to treat each experience as pinnacles of joy or despair.

The Journey Begins

As we boarded, my mindset matched that of the 'this is fine' meme. Instead of holding my phone for a last-minute scroll, I chose to immerse in the ship experience. My first stop was an Irish bar where I picked up a gin and tonic, planning to hit my step count as much as explore. I wandered through the ship’s casino frequently but avoided the gym after a single visit.

We jokingly termed the printed daily schedule ‘the newspaper,’ which made our internet-free days manageable. It was our guide to activities, including what to dodge, like the cover bands SoundBeat and Muzik Jam, which were not to our taste.

Discovering Challenges

The first night’s sleep made me question if I had turned into a ‘cruise person.’ Although disappointed by not upgrading to a balcony and noting the occasional sewer odor, our somewhat makeshift bed arrangement was compensated by effective packing hack usage, making me feel prepared as I drifted off to sleep.

Day two's novelty wore thin as minor irritations emerged. Pools were undersized compared to expectations, and endless rows of chairs were perpetually claimed by unattended towels. On the third day, eager to set foot off the ship, we faced frustration with the tender system until we reached Cabo San Lucas.

Cruise Encounters and Experiences

In Cabo, our off-ship excursion revealed life's larger difficulties through a chat with a captain who shared his harsh deportation experiences and disrupted family life. These revelations put my cruise dilemmas into perspective, reminding me of how the real world can encroach even in remote places.

Evenings were spent at the casino where fun but monetary escapes with slot machines and an unexpected New York City election result led to an early capitulation to WiFi by my boyfriend.

Navigating on and off the Ship

By day four, logistical hurdles continued as we bargained our way out of the port to experience a less commercialized beach setting. This manifested in minor standoffs with locals, fundamentally altering my concept of traditional holiday freedom.

Surprises continued at the onboard art auction, the highlight of onboard activities. Its peculiar dynamics, where bidding declined rather than rose, reflected the unconventional atmosphere of the cruise.

Reflecting on the Cruise

The final day brought rough seas and a mandatory closure of pool facilities, dampening already low spirits. Despite a craving for more swashbuckling adventures than we attempted, as preparations to disembark were announced, a mix of relief and dissatisfaction pervaded.

My boyfriend's early retreat to our cabin left me to make the most of the remaining time, reflecting over a martini with a fellow traveler who seemed lost after career upheavals. These conversations became a contemplative end note to the voyage.

Concluding Thoughts

The challenge of leaving the liner involved unexpected discrepancies with exit procedures. Once off, I reflected on the time aboard: unforeseen spending, the unique cruise staff roles as hygiene enforcers, and the paradox of a finite supply of entertainment on such a large vessel.

Ultimately, post-cruise discussions with others involved slight embellishments of the enjoyment level for the sake of social decorum, reflecting the nature of vacations as shared storytelling rather than mere personal experience. Despite my plunge into the jacuzzi trusting prior cleaning, the likelihood of returning to a cruise remains uncertain.