It started with tea.

Not the kind you absent-mindedly order at a diner and don’t think twice about as you sip until the cup is empty. 

The kind you sit down for, learn about, and share with a stranger from Madison, Wisconsin who you never would have spoken to otherwise.

That conversation at a tea house in Singapore, on day one of a six-day segment aboard Holland America’s Volendam, was the moment I realized this trip was going to be different.

Not because of the ship. Not because of the ports. Because of the people.

I joined the Volendam on day 79 of a 133-day Grand Voyage. The ship had already crossed oceans, made stops on multiple continents, and turned strangers into something closer to a floating community by the time I stepped aboard in Singapore.

I was the newcomer. What I did not expect was how quickly that stopped mattering.

On most cruises, you see people moving about the ship with their heads down and their phones up. They’re checking messages or using the app to plan their day. They are, in a word, distracted by technology. And there is nothing wrong with that. But on this sailing, something was different.

People said hello in the hallway.

Conversations started during sailaway. Nobody was allowing their phone to serve as a wall between themselves and the next person. They were taking photos of sunsets and posting sailaway videos, sure. But when it was time to talk, they were present.

I put my phone away too. Not in my cabin, granted. Just in my pocket. But it stayed a lot longer than usual.

It turns out that is what time spent on a world cruise segment does to you, if you let it.

The People You Meet on a World Cruise Are Not Who You Expect

Take, for example, the woman from Wisconsin. While chatting, she shared that she does variations of world cruises every year, switching between ships and itineraries.

For them, this was not a bucket list cruise. This was just what they have done since retiring from banking. I found that both impressive and quietly inspiring.

During that same shore excursion at a tea house in Singapore, I also met a recently retired nurse from Florida who had boarded in Sydney. Before joining the ship, she checked bungee jumping in New Zealand off her list. But that was only the beginning, as she had a long list of items and intended to work her way around the world, checking them off as she went.

A UK couple in their 70s told me the pandemic rewired how they think about time. They were not waiting anymore. If they wanted to do something, they were doing it. A 133-day grand voyage was not an extravagance to them, but an investment in their lives. It was the decision not to put things off.

And then there was the woman I spoke to in the elevator. She worked in healthcare and had sublet her New York City apartment for four months to fund the voyage. “It’s cheaper than staying home,” she shrugged, backing that up with some pretty solid math to prove her point.

Every one of them had a different reason for being there. None of them fit the profile most people picture when they hear world cruise. 

The Ship Gets Out of Your Way

The Volendam has nine decks. Ten if you count the sun deck. You can walk from one end to the other in a couple of minutes. 

After years of covering mega ships that require a map and a plan just to get to dinner, that simplicity was something I did not know I needed.

The ship runs quiet during the day. Port intensive itineraries will do that. Most guests are off exploring by mid morning, which means the lounges, the library, the Crow’s Nest (my favorite!), and the Ocean Bar are essentially empty until guests begin returning in the late afternoon. 

For me, that was ideal. I am a remote worker, and finding a quiet corner to plow through a few hours of work before the ship pulled into port was never a problem. I noticed I was not the only one. Microsoft Teams meetings were happening in quiet corners and lounges all around the ship.

The only thing that required self control was the food. Something was always available no matter where you went or what time it was. That is both a feature and a problem, depending on how you look at it.

By evening the ship came back to life. There was live music in the Ocean Bar, the Piano Bar was slowly morphing into a gathering place, the World Stage filling with guests to see a super talented electric violinist named Jocelyn Ng.

For a ship of 1,400 guests it covered a lot of ground entertainment wise without ever feeling like it was trying too hard.

The size also made it easy to settle into a routine. Wake up, find a quiet spot, get some work done, head ashore, come back, eat well, catch some live music, and sleep. Repeat. 

By day three it felt completely natural. A day later I was at the future cruise desk, just to see what a longer segment might look like.

That is probably the best endorsement I can give a ship.

Cruising as a Gateway

Cruising has a way of opening doors you did not know you wanted to walk through. A Celestyal Cruises sailing introduced me to Doha, Qatar. I have been back twice.

Holland America’s Eurodam showed me St. John in the US Virgin Islands. I have done three land trips since. Cozumel started the same way. The list now goes on and on.

This segment added Singapore and Halong Bay to that list. I stayed an extra day in Halong Bay after the ship left because I needed to explore more. 

The bay is one of those places that does not fully register until you are standing in the middle of it. (Sunrise is something that might just have the ability to change your life, if only for a few moments.) 

Singapore is already on the return list. It is not that far from Manila, which I know well, so it will happen sooner rather than later.

My Last Morning Onboard

I set my alarm for sunrise as the Volendam made its way into Halong Bay. What I woke up to looked like something out of a Bob Ross painting. If you are over 40, you’ll get the reference. If not, hit up Google.

Limestone karsts (mountains) rising straight out of the water in every direction. The ship threading through them like a needle, turning to port, then to starboard, with the kind of precision that makes you appreciate the river pilot’s knowledge of the local waterway. 

Both sides of the ship had views worth standing for, and I found myself bouncing back and forth like a tennis ball, trying to take in as much as I possibly could.

I was not the only one. The crew had lined up on deck nine to take it in themselves. That is when you know a place is something special. When the people who have traveled the world show up for it.

Six days on a world cruise segment will not scratch the itch. It will just give you a bigger one,… even for an introvert like myself.

Read More: Embarkation Thoughts of Holland America’s Volendam