For twenty-four glorious days, I have “lived” aboard a present day Cunard cruise ship, and am not yet a third of the way through this voyage across oceans and along rivers.






My private stateroom for seventy eight nights (above) has all one needs for comfortable living. Similar to a small hotel room, a patio door leads out onto an adequate tinted glass-walled balcony with space for two sun loungers and small table. Because the stateroom is configured for two, single occupancy attracts a one-person fare supplement of 75%. (Sole occupancy of a Grills Suite well set the lone passenger back a further 100% of the “per person” fare.) Cunard recently introduced single occupancy cabins on all three of its ships, but these are usually snapped up as soon as any voyage goes on sale. Each night, fresh towels and face flannels replace all those used during the day. The room is kept immaculate by the always pleasant, helpful and courteous cabin steward. The shower works as it should, and hot water is almost instantaneous. On board ship, this piece of your own territory is a valuable commodity. Food is synonymous with cruising. Every day, and throughout the day, the restaurants and eateries are kept replenished as required.
The Lido on Deck 9
The catering side is mind-boggling. Every dinner is a high-end event which after just days, can, be taken for granted. The guests/passengers are spoiled thoroughly; coming home to reality really is a shock to the system! Very occasionally, a “dish” might not work out as expected. Dressing for dinner in formal wear may become tiresome, but a dining room full of people in tuxedos and ties (preferably black) still looks rather grand. The constant availability of food is astonishing when one considers the logistics of “making it all happen,” day after day, voyage after voyage. As in any major town, a theatre (The Royal Court) stages “show-night” every night.
The Royal Court Theatre (where photography is prohibited!)
The entertainments are excellent, although not always to my taste. My only complaint is that over amplification can sometimes obscure the lyrics. As far as I can make out, the eight-piece Royal Court Theatre Orchestra is made up of 2 saxophonists, one trumpeter, one trombone player, one at the drums, two guitarists, and one pianist. The theatre itself has the capacity of any similar one land, and has that “on the town” feel when the ship is not being tossed around. There are numerous places to swim, a children’s play area, library and most days, a movie is shown in The Royal Court Theatre, which on Sundays at sea, doubles up as a church (for less than an hour at 10am.) Deck 10 houses the Commodore Club offering sumptuous seating, some looking forward towards a wide vista ahead. Bar staff offer (at a price + 15%) probably any drink one could wish for. (Tap water is usually met with a split second grimace followed by “my pleasure, sir!”) I rarely drink alcohol, and avoid soft drinks because of the sugar content. However, “tap water” is always part of a round…I am never so mean to the bar staff!

The Commodore Club
A pub the Golden Lion (not yet illustrated) on Deck 2, serves draught ale, spirits, soft drinks, and pub lunches. Quizzes, Karaoke, Bingo and other such events attract the guests who prefer not to barbecue themselves under a tropical sun. Most parts of the ship provide cool relief from the equatorial heat outside. And, apart from an occasional broken window and a few knocks here and there, it all works.


Outside, the ship is massive, and although its side profile is a tad ugly, in fact, M V. Queen Victoria couldn’t be better laid out. Carnival may have its critics, and as in any global industry, the “bean counters” always come up with ways to economise. To the keen observer, or over critical guest who demands, unreasonably, perfection, such cut backs can be “painfully” obvious. Still, for almost three months, I know I am in extremely good hands. I have been taken around the world in various stages, and all the time, felt cared for and looked after. All this eventually comes to an abrupt end at the cruise terminal where a tranche of fresh travellers can then bask in what I have enjoyed over years of ocean liner and cruise ship travel. Finally, below is reproduced, a page from the ship’s T.V. Navigational Channel. All that I have described, and much more is contained in twelve passenger decks, numbered 1 to 12, from the lowest level.
David. (Started at around midnight last night, revised and completed, 7 to 8.16 this morning, 3rd February 2020)