Chapter 17
When I think of cruising alone, I picture lonely holidaymakers sailing around the globe.
Half of them silently roaming the decks of a big ship, looking to make friends, while the other half want to be left the hell alone to throw themselves down the on-board waterslides in peace.
I think I’d fall into the latter, if you replace waterslides with a good book or a vat of margarita mix.
However, a quick Google search for ‘Singles’ Cruises’ leads me to believe that this is not the case.
I ignore the first result, ‘cruising alone for the over-sixties’, and continue scrolling.
Either they have paid vast sums for SEO, or the algorithm is taunting me.
While lots of cruises advertise themselves as singles’ cruises, they are actually just normal cruises with single rooms for solo travellers, thrown in with families and couples.
Still, I continue my search, hoping that I’ll find something more suitable for my needs.
Perhaps I’ll get lucky, and a dating cruise will magically appear where passengers are single, attractive and Naomi’s Love Boat fixation might not be as outlandish as it seems.
I scroll forever until I finally find one dating cruise – The Love Tub – which offers a whole two cruises per year, summer and New Year.
Even the thought of bringing in the New Year on a boat full of lonely hearts gives me the fear.
After further investigation I stumble across a YouTube video taken three years ago and shudder.
It shows what looks like a ratio of seventy men to one female and everyone looks like your drunk auntie at an office night out.
They also offer line dancing as entertainment, bingo and magic shows.
No thank you. I’m not averse to light entertainment.
Perhaps a piano playing in a cocktail bar, while a singer croons softly as I hammer a vodka tonic.
I’m even up for a show or a musical. Something that doesn’t involve people dressed as lions or the kids from Fame.
However, if a Eurovision party or a Dolly Parton tribute show was on offer, I’d book right now and they could name their price.
Naomi is regularly baffled by my taste in music after looking through my Spotify playlists.
‘Seriously, Sophie, what is this? Shania Twain, Linda Ronstadt, another country singer . . . and another country singer . . . what looks like every Eurovision song ever made, Korean rap . . . You don’t even speak Korean!’
‘Annyeonghaseyo,’ I muttered, reminding myself that I’m totally fluent in hello.
‘What’s next?’ she asked. ‘The Pussycat Dolls? Girls Aloud?’
‘Give me that!’ I grabbed my phone away, before she scrolled any further and discovered that Girls Aloud are in there on more than one occasion.
‘Jesus, you sound just like Jason. Anything that wasn’t Pink Floyd, Radiohead or The Doors was dismissed with prejudice.
Anyway, you have a cheek to talk about anyone’s musical tastes, you listen to the Black-Eyed Peas. ’
‘One song!’ she exclaimed. ‘I liked one song a decade ago. You cannot hold that against me forever.’
‘I can try.’
Now, I turn my attention to regular cruises.
These are much greater in number and leaving every seventeen seconds by the looks of it.
Destinations on offer range from the Nordic fjords to the Caribbean and even the Galapagos Islands, where you can swim with sea lions whether they like it or not.
On board there are pools, restaurants, a casino, a nightclub, umpteen bars, adults-only areas and no mention of shuffleboard, only pickleball, another paddle-based sport.
Given my table tennis disaster, I’ll sit that one out.
One ship in particular, Ocean Explorer, claims to do singles’ mixers, which doesn’t seem quite as terrifying as an entire holiday dedicated to avoiding people you don’t click with.
Eat at one of eight restaurants, sampling cuisine from all around the world.
Pamper yourself in our luxury spa.
Enjoy our on-board entertainment, including nightclubs, karaoke, dazzling shows and even an outdoor movie theatre.
Solo mixers. Have fun and make new friends for life.
As an adult, I’ll admit that it’s difficult to make new friends, especially in your forties.
Like many people, my once wide social circle has greatly diminished.
People grow apart. They get married, have kids, move away.
I haven’t had to make new friends since secondary school, which was stressful enough at thirteen with braces and skin you could fry an egg on.
I’m not sure asking strangers who their favourite member of the Backstreet Boys is or where they purchased their friendship bands from would have quite the same reaction today.
Sometimes I think I’m fine without many friends and then I find myself on a Friday night interrogating Alexa for someone to talk to.
I am clearly not fine. I’m stuck in a rut.
It’s definitely time to shake things up.
With Naomi in Whitby and Ashley AWOL in Ibiza, I’ve never bothered to bond with anyone else.
As much as I relish the thought of having a week’s holiday to myself, maybe it wouldn’t kill me to be at least a little sociable.
People do this all the time, maybe I have the wrong idea about cruises.
Who doesn’t love visiting new countries, taking in the culture and staring wistfully out to sea like a Waterhouse painting in my flip-flops?
Regardless, I click on the deals. Ideally, I’d like one week, somewhere warm.
The Caribbean would be perfect. White sand beaches, turquoise water, lobster in Antigua, it all sounds amazing.
I start pricing it up and I’m quickly horrified that solo travellers have to pay a fifty-per cent supplement for a normal cabin room.
You can’t lie and say that the other person is in the bathroom, or has come down with something contagious, they need their details at the point of booking.
I look at the single rooms designed for one, but they’re all sold out.
In fact, most of the rooms I click on are sold out.
I’m financially stable but not loaded enough to spend four grand on a trip just to say yes to something new.
I bet even Alex Steward didn’t go that far.
However, I do come across one that catches my eye.
The Ocean Belle. A seven-night European cruise. Sardinia, Amalfi, Pisa, Naples and final stop in Palamós, Spain.
Return flights from Liverpool to Palma. Guaranteed room. All-inclusive. Only three rooms left.
Not quite the Caribbean holiday I wanted but Europe could work. I’ve been to Europe. I live in Europe. It’s beautiful, historic and close enough to the UK where I could jump ship and still get home in time for The Traitors.
I take a deep breath and start booking.