Full steam

We discuss the hopeless business of describing the sea. Everyone sighs over its fantastic colours. The cynic observes that travel writers always write &lsquoazure waters&rsquo. The travel writer snaps that if you&rsquore going to do clich&eacutes then its turquoise waters and azure sky. Then we argue about travel writing and cynicism, and again about the colour of the sea. We would come to blows, but for that we&rsquod have to let go of our beers, and that&rsquos practically illegal on board a cruise ship.

We&rsquove flown 18 hours from Mumbai to check into this 10-storey floating hotel called Carnival Destiny, for a week. She&rsquos docked in turquoise waters under an azure sky at the Bridgetown port in Barbados. She&rsquos big and blingy and shamelessly showy, and makes your eyes pop slightly all the time. I&rsquove been on motorboats, junks, hovercrafts and a couple of ferries, but I&rsquove never seen anything like her.

The first evening, emerging from our stateroom after showering away the flight, we become instantly lost. Bumbling our way down busily carpeted corridors and up banks of glistening elevators we eventually stumble upon the Sun and Sea restaurant on the ninth-floor Lido Deck. It looks like a casino, with many shiny bits and many, many, many lightbulbs. In my suspicious third world way I ask a smiling Ukrainian waiter the price of the buffet. &ldquoIt&rsquos free, ma&rsquoam,&rdquo he said politely. We murmur amongst ourselves in wonderment, looking at the banquet lined up along the self-service line. &ldquoYes,&rdquo he repeated patiently. &ldquoFood anywhere on the ship is free. You are charged only for alcohol.&rdquo

This is my happy introduction to the biggest attraction on board a cruise ship boundless, ubiquitous food and drink. To celebrate, I skip the healthful salads and eat a number of things featuring lots of finely done red meat, juicy and flavourful, capped with all the delicious desserts. Then I have a glass of wine on the deck, to the sounds of a slightly cheesy live band. I love it. I&rsquom a cruise ship virgin, and the Destiny is my older woman.

We have a day in Barbados. I could sign up and pay at the on-board Shore Excursion Desk for a looksee at the island, but the Spaniard manning the desk says they need 24 hours notice so we go solo and swipe ourselves off the ship with our &lsquoSign and Sail&rsquo cards which serve as ID as well as onboard credit card, under the watchful gaze of the Indian security officer.

The best way to get a feel for the island is to drive around it. The Barbados Tourism Authority stall at the port duty-free shopping complex directs us to a BTA tour van driven by a large and jolly Barbadian named Carson. We set off to see the playground of the international rich and famous, with running commentary &ldquoHere, on the left, is a house worth $1 million. That one is $1.5 million, and over there is the place where Tiger Woods spent $30 million on his wedding.&rdquo The van winds past beaches and through exquisite golf courses and shady lanes of fan-leafed breadfruit and brilliant fuschia-coloured bougainvillea. In a charming local variation of class differentiation, landowners build houses with real foundations, while houses on rented land are built on small stone legs, ready to be carted off wholesale when necessary.

&ldquoCan anyone tell me why you see so many people on the island without an arm and a leg&rdquo asks Carson. The answer That&rsquos the price of real estate. Big guffaw.

We travel up the western flank of Barbados, then cross the sugar and banana plantations on the spine of the island to the east, where the ancient St John&rsquos parish church stands amid breeze-filled trees. From the old graveyard behind it I find graves dating back to the 1600s, and take in spectacular views of the rougher seas on the Atlantic coast, where the fabulous Crane resort is. We pass the Prime Minister&rsquos house. &ldquoYou can&rsquot see the security,&rdquo says Carson, &ldquobut they can see you.&rdquo The island is blessed with a constant breeze, but it&rsquos quite hot nonetheless and I&rsquom grateful to sink back into the air-conditioned bowels of the Destiny, where, magically, it is always time for lunch.

I spend the afternoon exploring the ship walking through kilometres of hallway between staterooms, it quickly becomes clear that one has to navigate based on which set of elevators you&rsquore next to. The seven-deck Atrium with its glass elevators, and the Lobby Deck where the Purser&rsquos Information desk is, serve as my Northern Star, and they lead me to the spa, where I book myself for the following morning with a Filipina masseuse before my nerves fail in the face of the $200 price tag. I wander through acres of restaurant, piano bar, wine bar, game room, duty free shops, casino, and the three-deck Palladium Lounge with its baroque swaged stage curtain.

You can tell the cruising veterans from the newbies. The newbies race around trying to pack in everything instantly the veterans pace themselves, and spend a lot of time at the bar. In the evening, after a quick drink at the poolside bar on the Lido Deck, listening to the pretty good live band, I retire to my stateroom to sit in its nice little balcony for a few minutes before falling flat on my face in the comfortable double bed on which my ever-smiling Thai room steward has set a little swan made out of towels, along with some chocolate on the pillow. This really is a very international crew. There are about 1,100 of them, and at the moment about 1,200 passengers on board.

The 7am sun is already warm, so I ditch the fresh sea breeze of the outdoor jogging track for the treadmill in the air conditioned gym instead. Sometime during breakfast we sail for the neighbouring island-nation of St Lucia, where the semi-final match of the ICC Cricket World Cup is being played. I troop off to the spa, where the masseuse takes me into a cool, dark, scented massage room, and exfoliates the living daylights out of me. I emerge soft and sweet-smelling and so relaxed that I&rsquom practically asleep, but I do notice belatedly that on sail days, the price is higher than on dock days. Oh well, there&rsquos nothing for it but to have lunch.

We spend the day on the deck, snoozing and chatting and playing table tennis despite the feisty breeze and the just-perceptible roll of the ship. The casino and the shops are open only when the ship is at sea, so inside, people are shopping and spending their hearts out, they&rsquore at the art auction where they&rsquore hawking Miros and Rembrandts, they&rsquore playing family games at the Palladium, but the deck is definitely the hotspot. Kids play in the &lsquoCamp Carnival&rsquo area, a bunch of youngsters are playing basketball on a small netted court, people are draped over the deck chairs like drying seaweed, and lots of ageing sardars are sitting in a convivial circle in the bubbling Jacuzzis. I could get used to this life.

But by the time we dock at Castries, the capital of pretty St Lucia, I&rsquom ready to get off. A bunch of us take a taxi to the nightlife at Rodney Bay, where the streets are alive with St Lucians dressed to kill dancing to pulsing, pounding music, and tourists like ourselves gaping at them. Everyone addresses you as darling, or baby. We wash up in a place called Rumours where, by midnight, the dance floor is throbbing.

The next day is all about cricket at St.Lucia&rsquos Beausejour cricket stadium, set in the pretty hills about 20km from Castries, and at the end of the day I&rsquom too exhausted to take in the variety shows or the movies or the music on board. But in the morning we embark on a taxi tour of curvy St Lucia. The island is dramatically contoured, as opposed to flat, coral-made Barbados. The sea is exquisite, the forest virginal, and the roads excellent. We drive past the seaside village of Anse la Raye, all the way to the smouldering, bubbling crater of the volcano at Soufri&eacuteres, next to which stand the towering twin cones of the Pitons. We lunch on fresh Dory at a restaurant, see a little waterfall at Toraille, and browse the market at Castries on the way back for hats with fake dreadlocks attached, dolls, T-shirts and a thousand knick-knacks.

In the evening we set sail back to Barbados. Everyone dutifully shows up in formals for the Captain&rsquos cocktails, except a bunch of hammered Australians drunk more on the Aussie victory than on alcohol. The casino is humming, people are singing along at the Apollo Bar and the Downbeat Lounge, the deck is full, the ship is buzzing. I&rsquom full of beans and dance at the Point after disco until 3.30am.

After the World Cup final match at Kensington Oval in Barbados (which is as much fun as it is disastrous), I have steam enough to watch an excellent illusionist at the Palladium Lounge. The next morning we go off to the incredibly beautiful Rockley Beach and spend the afternoon soaking in sun, surf, and sand, and eating delicious flying fish sandwiches at the beachside stalls. I get a couple of braids put in my hair. Mostly I just stare at the water, and at the people-playing ball on the beach, and watch the sun go down.

I get another view of that water from a catamaran cruise that takes us along the west coast, fully stocked bar on board, to snorkel with friendly turtles or over shipwrecks in crystal clear waters, or just lounge on the deck. It&rsquos hard to beat a long, breezy afternoon with cold beer under a hot sun, and a killer lunch to boot.

Jasmine, who sells sandwiches at Rockley beach, endorses the nightspot of Oistins, but we bid farewell to the Caribbean with an evening at the famous St Lawrence Gap &mdash a shiny, happy alley lined with bars, clubs, street vendors and dedicated drinkers. And we&rsquore saying goodbye to the Destiny with a sail away party on the deck from 11pm to midnight, before we disembark in the morning. I stand on the deck and look out at the lovely, magical, turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea. Now here&rsquos a face that could launch a thousand ships.

The information

The Carnival Destiny
The cruise ship has a spa and gym, casino, duty-free shops, Camp Carnival programme for kids, babysitting, bars and entertainment rooms, laundrettes, photo-processing services, ATM and medical centre. You pay for purchases with a cashless &lsquoSign and Sail&rsquo card. The ship is wi-fi-enabled and there is an Internet café. You can sign up for paid shore excursions ($39-99 per trip) at various ports of call. All-day and all-night dining options include the Sun and Sea restaurant, the more formal table service Galaxy and Universe restaurants, the 24-hour Pizzeria, the Ice Cream Parlour, the New York Grill deli, Café on the Way, and Happy Valley Chinese food. Price of a 7-day Southern Caribbean cruise starts from $724.&nbspYou can also book this holiday in India through SOTC (022-66188040, 22840666-67, 011-23725555).

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Choose from SOTC&rsquos selection of DIY Holidays on Costa Cruises &mdash high-end cruise holidays you can tailor to your own requirements.

Costa Mediterranea Venice to Bari (Italy), Katakolon/Olympia (Greece), Santorini, Mykonos, Rhodes, Dubrovnik (Croatia) & Venice, for 7N/8D from Rs 63,999.

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Fares include accommodation, on-board meals, casino and various onboard activities. Kids below 18 cruise free when sharing a cabin with two full-fare adults.