A Virgin No More…

After years of saying I never wanted to be held captive on a cruise ship, especially one as large as the Carnival variety, I finally bit the bullet this weekend, plugged my nose, and jumped in.

And you know what? I actually enjoyed it.

The cruise ship mash-up one Saturday afternoon in Nassau.

My past experience with traveling by boat has either been the commuting ferry type or the river and canal barge kind, and though I successfully kicked my seasickness habit a few years back by getting deathly ill somewhere on a boat south of Sicily, I haven’t been inclined to specifically seek out water journeys.

But there I was, checking in for a three-day Miami-Nassau-Miami cruise on the Carnival Imagination. My first impressions were not good ones:
the smell of disinfectant almost bowled me over as I got lost on three different floors looking for my stateroom. By the time I’d unpacked and settled in, the smell had faded and I headed upstairs to be greeted by a frat party in progress on the Lido deck. Checking the schedule, I saw offerings for bingo, towel origami classes, and a hairy chest contest.

Uh-oh.

I was with a group of writers, and during that first initiation, we all stared wide-eyed at our fellow passengers who were riotously grooving to the Macarena/Electric Slide medley, which of course was generously accompanied by a steady flow of hot-pink tropical drinks with the obligatory umbrella/cherry/orange slice perched on the edge.

But when in Rome…in no time at all, we succumbed to the spirit of our environs and let loose. Within a few hours, a few of us were the belle of the ball when it came to karaoke later that night…no names, please.

After the weekend was over, I decided I would pursue other trips and activities I would normally avoid. Though in keeping with my overall view of not wanting to visit anyplace I’ve already been, another Carnival is not on my short list.

But a Royal Caribbean trip might.