Cruising with Explora: The Long Way Home

THE LONG WAY HOME

Between sound baths, luxury watch shopping and morning gelato, a trans-Atlantic voyage proves that modern luxury means having nowhere urgent to be.

Seventeen days from Barcelona to Miami on the Explora 1. In an age of six-hour transatlantic hops, the very notion of a ship crossing this long felt faintly preposterous, like insisting on travelling by steam train when the bullet train runs perfectly well. And yet there we were, happily ensconced in an ocean-fronting suite, having surrendered ourselves to what must surely be one of the last properly indulgent ways to cross an ocean.

The first days established the pattern. Cadiz sprawled white and dusty against the Spanish coast, its ancient ramparts still defiant after centuries of sieges. Then Funchal climbed in terraced layers up Madeira's volcanic flanks, all shuttered houses and gardens spilling bougainvillea. 

After that – nothing. Just six unbroken days of that vast Atlantic expanse, the ship gently easing westward while we settled into a rhythm so languorous it felt almost decadent.

I'd wake most mornings for sunrise yoga, though 'wake' suggests more purpose than I possessed. Really, I'd simply find myself there, half-conscious, while the instructor murmured something about intentions and the horizon bled from charcoal to apricot. Breakfast became an expansive affair – gelato at ten in the morning felt daring at first, then merely sensible – and afterwards, as others played bridge or worked on their tan, I'd slouch towards a watercolour class for an hour of meditative daubing. We were promised whales. I may have missed them entirely, being deeply absorbed in getting the light right on a wave.

The ship carried more crew than passengers – 650 tending to our 600 – which lent everything the unhurried attentiveness of a private yacht that happened to span several decks. Afternoons drifted past in the Astern Lounge where a patient instructor attempted to teach us basic French, though most of us were there for the windows and the light. 

I spent twenty minutes one afternoon studying a Piaget in one of the watch boutiques – pacing myself as there were still Rolex, Panerai, and Cartier down the corridor to visit – vaguely wondering how one might measure time that moved this languorously.

Evenings dissolved into sound baths, the singing bowls sending notes shimmering through the darkened wellness room. Dinners migrated between venues – French one night, Japanese the next and Wagyu another - and dancing and piano recitals after.

When land finally reappeared – St. John's with its butter-coloured stone, Tortola's quiet coves, Old San Juan's sun-warmed plazas – it felt oddly beside the point. For we'd already arrived wherever we were meant to be. Which was somewhere in the middle of all that blue. 

Eventually, Miami’s glass towers rose up like the return of ordinary life. We disembarked reluctantly, legs still swaying to phantom swells, already wondering which of the other five ships in Explora's growing fleet might carry us just as slowly to somewhere else entirely.

----------------------------‍‍

‍Are you looking to embark on your very own journey with Explora? Find out more here.

We look forward to journeying with you.