Jogging in the Atlantic: on board Cunard’s Queen Mary 2
(I departed Canada April 8th 2025. Though the first three weeks were of the trip were roughed out [Morocco, Tunis, Italy], the remainder was not. In the end, I spent time in Prague, Utrecht, Stockholm, Paris, Barcelona, Madrid, and Lisbon. Just how, when and from where I’d return had been left open. A transatlantic ocean return had not been on my radar until I happened to visit the Cunard site and discovered that the Queen Mary 2 would be leaving 6th June, westbound to New York from Southampton. This would extend me geographically, taking me first to Norwich for a few days where I worked with the Mottram papers and enjoyed this interesting city, as well as a couple days in Southampton, another interesting place. In the end I concluded the two week extension and extra financial outlay were justified by the once in a lifetime angle. They were. The following is an email begun the second day, updated, and sent to my sister, on the fifth day, of the seven day passage. I’ve changed names.)
I realized when I got onboard that I wouldn’t in fact have the internet, at least without having had paid a certain amount per day ($20US/day), and in the interests of economy, decided not to fork it out. However, we are promised 1 hour of free connectivity, much like pushers who give away free samples in hopes of getting people addicted, which I decided to use to send you, and others, a quick update. In the meantime, I hope no one felt I’d perished on the verge of returning to the new world.
Think I left you in the coffee shop opposite my hotel. Yes, that’s where it/I was.
Decided, in the end to spring for a taxi to get me to the docks. I had only a ten pound note left, and asked the hotel receptionist to confirm with the taxi company how much it would be: 10 pounds. I would prefer to walk, as I do throughout my voyaging, but thought it unlikely I’d find any venues to spend my remaining quids, at least in the near future. I actually had a couple pound in change, so he got a decent tip.
My checking in was scheduled for 3, so I ordered a taxi for 2:15, but the driver showed up at 1:45. The driver, a nice Nepalese gentleman, was happy to wait but when I queried him about the embarkation (he’d already made several trips, ferrying various cruisers to the Queen Mary, I gathered), he said it was moving well and there would be no delays.
So we went a bit early. Good idea. Since I wasn’t dropping off any bags, I was told to get right in the embarkation line, which wound outside the terminal. I guess there were a few hundred people at that point. Officialdom didn’t seem that concerned about times, but more about the US ETSA pass, which Cunard people going up and down the line warned us was needed to enter the States. I had heard about the visa, but had gone to the website a couple days earlier, and it had appeared not to afflict Canadians. But I still panicked as you do and asked two different people about it. Oh, don’t worry. You’ve got your passport and boarding pass, which I’d filled out online a few nights earlier and had my Norwich hotel print out.
I met a delightful mixed race couple from Bath, England, Anne and Paul (I ran into Anne in the gym today, and only learned their names then), who seemed to be living it up, going to Italy, Thailand, Mexico, and in Egypt, on a Nile cruise, as I did, a couple years ago. Very nice folks, sober and intelligent. Though probably my age, maybe a bit younger, they both seemed retired. I told them of my recent travels, my studies in Leeds, my own semi retirement, etc. Since we were in line together, we had a half hour or so to talk. It helped with my nerves. I’ve mainly been in places the last two months where English isn’t necessarily that common so it was fun. Anne also recently qualified as a yoga teacher so we also had that in common.
We were briefly separated, but then after security, we found ourselves beside each other again as we boarded. Curiously, as the taxi drove up, the boat didn’t look that impressive. It was only walking up the tunnel to the entrance that it hits you that, yeah, it is pretty big. But I’m sure you’ve been through this. Lots of people stop to take shots of the side of the ship, which I guess is the equivalent of a 11 or 12 story building. I did, too, I think. Pretty cool.
Waited for a lift, along with a bunch of people, then decided on the stairs, from deck 3 to 8, where I was, in midships. My envelope with a card access was waiting, along with some other information regarding the day’s events, eating venues, etc. The room was fine — just like the images on the website — and even the lifeboat obscured view didn’t bother me; it was just nice to have some outdoor space. There was a half bottle of bubbly waiting (I’ve given mine away). It was about 3:15, I think, when I was fully boarded so it turned out well.
The muster point, where my card was duly scanned, was near the King’s Court, the all day buffet. It was just shutting down lunch service — the ship had apparently started in Norway, hint, hint, so some of us boarding in Southampton were newcomers — and since I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, I grabbed some rice and vegetable curry, very tasty. It was a taste of things to come — so to speak — and it’s awfully nice knowing there’s virtually always food available, a great variety in fact, and no shopping beforehand and no dishes afterwards.
After that, I found the library, which I knew was on my deck, forward most of the ship. Beautiful! Wonderful seating, as we left the solent; lighted bookshelves; newspapers and magazines (the adjacent book shop is by comparison disappointing). I confirmed this morning, my first full day on board, that there is a decent science fiction section, so George will be well set, although I know he never runs short with his Kobo. I also found the gym and fitness class people just above the library. As with many things, I’ve learnt, they expect you to buy much, including yoga classes. Since the gym was free and since I didn’t want to shell out $20 US for a 45 minute yoga or spinning class, I decided not to take a package of classes.
I later sought out the launderette on my floor. Two sharpie American women had already beaten me to it, so I checked in a couple hours later and found the machines, 2 of each, free. Gathered up my week’s laundry and got it going. They supply detergent strips too. I returned to play around with the TV, which had a decent selection of cable stations, movies, Fox News, BBC news. I put on some football, while I showered and got cleaned up. In the meantime, my steward Jocel had turned down my bed and left a Cunard chocolate. I’d met him a little earlier. If I hazarded a guess, most of the service people seem Philippino.
When I got around to dumping my laundry in the dryer, an elderly English woman, ‘Joe’ entered. She and her husband are veteran cruisers — when I ran into them this morning, they talked about looking for ‘repositioning’ deals, which I believe George mentioned to me — and also from Norfolk, where I was last week, but now live in Sarasota.
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They reckon, hunting for deals, it’s cheaper getting back to Florida by ship. We had a great time. My new linen/cotton shirt, which I’d thrown in for a quick wash, didn’t come out of the dryer looking like much, and since I haven’t ironed in years, Joe took the bull by the horns and pity on me, and got the iron going. It pays to be a dumb man — sometimes. I’m pretty good at it. Anyways, she talked so much about ironing her kids’ school uniforms, that I could just tell she was itching to show me how it was done, and I was more than happy to oblige. So, as I filled in my room service breakfast order form later that night, I had all my laundry done, plus a neatly ironed new shirt. (Later, I realized I’d forgotten a hoodie in the dryer, so called the purser’s office and got someone to let me in to the now locked launderette.)
The breakfast this morning was lovely — clocks back an hour! — we left the Isles early in the morning, just as the sun rose. I woke up about 4, and it was already light, as it gets this far north. By 4:30, I was exploring the mainly empty ship on my own, including a walk around deck 7, three circuits of which equal just over a mile. Off in the distance, I could see some land, but don’t know whether it was England or Ireland — I guess the former.
After a walk around, I did get back to my bed and to sleep, remarkably, as I was woken by the steward’s knock at 6:45, the time at which I’d ordered delivery. Pretty fancy. Proper china, flatware, and even linen. I didn’t tip the guy and he seemed in a rush to get away, so I’m not sure whether it’s expected. I don’t have change, and I’ll probably leave Jocel — it wasn’t him who delivered — a $20 at the end of the crossing. I’m sure they do well.
Like you said, you barely notice the ship moving. Indeed, when it pulled away from its mooring in Southampton, I didn’t even notice. Once we reached open water, there’s certainly a gentle back and forth, but if anything, it’s relaxing — at least to me. I actually used deck 7 to go jogging this afternoon, despite the hefty breeze. I did 6 or 7 circuits, so a mile and half, and you notice the mild heaving of the deck. Funny. There were a few walkers I had to navigate, but people who wanted to work out were in the gym, where I ran into Anne. Now I can tell Phil I jogged in the North Atlantic.
So far, the weather hasn’t been conducive to being outside — cool, windy, overcast, some drizzles. They’ve already closed some outside sections, including the very top observation deck, because of the wind. They’ve said the seas are ‘moderate’ but it should improve sun-wise in the next 24 hours. I’m on the south side of the boat, so I will get sun, as I did this afternoon. Still, it’s a bit chilly and windy to be sitting outside. The people on deck 12, sitting around a sheltered pool and hot tub had the right idea. No shuffleboard or golfing, I’m afraid, so far. At noon, the captain came over the PA with a bunch of details about our passage and the weather and the like. He also mentioned we were still on the continental shelf, which is about 400 feet below us. By dinner time, he said, we’d reach it’s end, and the depth would plummet to 12,000.
I just dropped down to the buffet. Picked up a chicken stir fry, some rice, mixed steamed veggies, a piece of roast chicken, and a piece of bacon wrapped sausage (they used the English name for it — pig in a blanket?). Last night, later again, I’d some vegetable curry and rice, and picked up a couple pieces of fried trout. Everythings’s been lovely. I don’t think I’ve seen half of what they offer. I’ll never eat so well as I’ll eat during this week again, I think! I need to watch my waist.
Right now I’m in the commodore club, with a view to the right and forward (it’s also at the front of the boat). It’s casual during the day — wear what you want, as I am — but this is one of the areas that changes to smart attire at 6. I actually think my newly ironed collared shirt and unripped jeans would pass muster, but I am not that bothered. Last night, you’d occasionally see the dressed up couples in stateroom hallways, heading to wherever. Since I was up at 4:30 am today, I doubt I’ll be up that late anyways. I’ve already nearly fallen asleep a couple times, as the gentleman a table over from me with a half drunk pint of lager currently is.
***
Time passes. It’s now Wednesday, only two days left. The sun is currently shining, though as I’ve learnt, that won’t necessarily last. June is I’ve read one of the more unpredictable transatlantic crossing months. In his just finished noon address, the Captain said we’re 250 nautical miles SE off the coast of Cape Breton, Canada. I saw my steward Jocel and said I’d been there last fall; he stared at me blankly as he’s done a couple times. We passed northward of the Titanic site by 16 nautical miles last night, which I followed on my Cunard channel on TV. Today I dropped down to deck 5, where there was a bunch of historic stuff about the disaster on the walls, and the Cunard Carpathia that sailed to the rescue. Interesting.
Everything has been amazing. I’ve been sleeping better (the gentle rocking of the boat helps, plus it’s very quiet), eating too well, and generally doing whatever I like, which is a great freedom. Disneyland for grownups.
I’ve sat in on a couple bridge lessons. Seen a few lectures on art and writing. Eaten whenever I’ve wanted. Gotten up early, usually 5 or so, had a quick walk, see what the ocean’s doing (this morning it was pouring, so I simply headed to the library), grabbed a coffee, did some reading, and ocean watching, then head down for breakfast at 6 (I’ve had 3 room service breakfasts so far but really prefer choosing my own from the buffet). The sky has since cleared; the ocean actually looked blue today for the first time. There was a workout this morning, where I managed to cut my finger — had to figure out where to grab a bandaid (the purser’s office had one). I bought a used book on the Cathars in Southampton; though I’ve several tomes on my iPad, I like paper. I’m halfway through it. A stack of daily Cunard crosswords, a relatively small but difficult one, is placed in the library each morning. I’ve enjoyed it immensely; my goal is to complete at least one in its entirety, but time is running out.
All is good. God willing, I should be home late Friday afternoon.
I’ve enjoyed every minute of this cruise — indeed the entire trip — and look forward to planting my flowers when I get back.
I hope the show went well last Friday, father’s day was good, and farm life is wonderful.
(I did get home to Toronto on 13 June 2025, after working my way from the new cruise liner port in Brooklyn to Queen’s LaGuardia by subway and bus. Of all the joys and experiences of this final leg of the trip, being internet free for a week, other than the free 1 hour of use with which I sent this email to my sister as well as a couple others, ranks highly. By the way, the closest I came to finishing a crossword …
)
