The second cruise
So, as in spring a young man’s thoughts turn to love, mine turn to the summer holidays and I’ve been giving some serious though as to in which direction I’d like to throw DH’s salary this year. To Italy? To Portugal? To Corsica? Sicily?
And then I remembered the cruise. The cruise that I had so much dreaded last year. My only lasting memory of the cruise now is of the curtains billowing in the Mediterranean breeze as I was lulled to sleep by the swell of the sea (don’t underestimate how amazing this was for an insomniac). The feeling of waking up every morning refreshed and ready for the day; the under-eye bags almost disappearing; the sight of the Moon reflected on a calm, black sea; the bright blue horizon stretching into eternity with the hot sun baking into my limbs.
“How about another cruise?” I asked DH and he looked as I imagine he would if I told him I’d eaten DD for supper. Seriously, that shocked.
“What,” he said in a strangled little voice. “So soon?”
Anyway, I started looking up ships, itineraries and gorgeous cabins on exclusive decks of very fancy ships and DH’s interest was a little piqued, so the discussion continued for a day or two more.
And then I realised that, while DH didn’t truly mind the idea of cruising again – especially on the very private deck of a very fancy ship with a particularly enticing itinerary – the problem he had would be in admitting he was now a “cruiser.”
To cruise once, because your parents asked you to, is one thing – to cruise again because you chose to is quite another. Hello middle age!
Anyway, needless to say, I’m now searching villas.