Cruise travel Pt. 1: Excitement of Arrival

“We’re here!” I thought, after entering the Port, but we weren’t; more luggage-checking, and stimulating security officers who stare at large, black screens, scratching their noses and pretending they know what they’re doing. “Ok, now we’re really here!” A steward guided us to the entry and we stepped foot on the cruise, the magical moment I had been waiting for, for months and weeks. First, it was lunch time, and the buffet was screaming at us with an exhibition of gourmet dishes. Pizza, Pasta, Samosas, Quesadillas, Grilled Chicken, Cake, Ice Cream, Slushies; you name it, it was all there. After the tensest and most assorted lunch, I ever had, we were lead to our suite. My dad gave me the honors of swiping the fancy key-card, (because he misplaced his already) and an Oceanview was staring at us ethereally. I quickly busted open the glass door to the balcony where an infinite stretch of sea was rippling in a blissful manner. I couldn’t keep my eyes off it. It seemed like the perfect place to meditate and do something radical and way out of my league, like write poetry or paint a portrait of nature. My sister (6-year-old) was jumping up and down witnessing one of nature’s most beautiful marvels for the first time but was quickly scolded by my mother, who felt vertiginous and distressed just breathing in the bloody ship. As I suspected, she started irrationally lecturing us about not jumping overboard and going for a wild swim. The balcony was only a part of the opulent room, however. The bathroom was the other standout feature, which seemed almost too special to shower in or even brush my teeth. I mean, it was absolutely stunning. Pristine white tile and glossy wood made up the walls embellished with warm light fixtures, not to mention the expansive window of more beautiful sea facing the jacuzzi tub. Even the shower was cornered by two large windows with gorgeous views. After rigorously touring the suite like it was a museum, we had the rest of the whole fucking cruise to play with. The ship-map was useless with too many colors and names on a folded 6’’ by 6” piece of paper.  Like having an itch I couldn’t scratch, I felt utterly restless. Where do you start? The penthouse lounge? The jazz concert on the 12th floor? The waterslides? After trekking through at least half of every stretch of the ship and wolfing down another hearty buffet meal, I came back to my room and slept like a drowsy infant who ate an excessive amount of candy and played too much. Six more days of unadulterated luxury! Yupee!

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