You would have to be dead not to feel just a little faint with excitement when you first catch sight of the Aurora, towering in glorious cream-and-gold livery above the heaps of containers on Southampton docks.
The brand new Aurora may be nothing more than a 76,000 ton, £200m floating hotel, restaurant and entertainment complex with a crew of 800 catering for 1,800 passengers -but, oh, what a difference the floating makes. There is something thrilling and glamorous about being at sea, and it doesn't wear off, even after 10 days aboard. On evening three, out in the Bay of Biscay, with a gale blowing up and a swell building, we watched a Euro 2000 match on an enormous TV screen in one of the ship's umpteen bars, with stewards running about with trays of cold beers. The man on the next table said: "Life doesn't get much better, does it?" And no one disagreed.
Cabins
We had a cabin with twin beds and a little balcony. The cabins are not huge but they are luxury; the whole ship is luxury, but I never found a spot I liked better than our cabin. The carpets are thick, the cupboards are huge, the deck chairs on the balcony have plump cotton-covered cushions and the beds are proper hotel beds - firm, with crisp white sheets and massive pillows. Everything is well-finished and sweet-smelling. The bathroom was small, but cleverly designed with huge mirrors, a powerful shower, and two large corner cabinets.
Then there was a sofa, coffee table and television (showing four or so videos each day, as well as live footage from the camera at the front of the ship - staff below the waterline use it to check if it's night or day, sunny or rainy).
Each cabin has a dedicated steward (shared with 15 other cabins). We had Jerry, a man of saintly patience, who spent 10 days trailing in and out with pots of fresh decaf coffee, extra blankets and fizzy mineral water. These stewards - who are, as is traditional on P&O ships, largely recruited from Goa - do up to nine months at a stretch onboard. They make most of their money - which Jerry, for one, uses to support family in Bombay - on tips (the Guide to Tipping on your dressing table advises you to leave a lump sum in an envelope at the end of the cruise).
Sea days
Cruising, Brit-style, is still largely the province of white English people of late middle-age or above, and many of the organised activities during days at sea are resolutely un-hip, if not grossly un-PC. In your morning copy of Aurora Today, the ship's newspaper, you will find Masonic meetings ("Masonic widows should check in at reception"), bridge classes, coffee mornings, and flower pressing.
But none of it is compulsory. By the end of the trip, we still felt we had barely begun to take advantage of such an enormous ship. There's the beauty salon (massages, body wraps and facials, at about £40 a shot), a decent gym with exercise classes (although no yoga), three pools (none large enough to do proper lengths), five-a-side football (every afternoon on sea days), a mini cricket pitch, an outdoor golf simulator (people raved about it), a big room of arcade games, a cinema and a casino. Or you can sunbathe on deck (the pristine, exquisitely-finished wooden deck) or read in the library (a beautiful room with fantastic views of the sea and big leather armchairs). Or you can just lie in bed with the sliding doors to your balcony open and the ocean rushing by. Which is pretty blissful.
Days in port
We had four days in harbour on our trip. There's a curious pleasure to waking up in the morning, opening your curtains and finding that you're no longer at sea. If the harbour is deep enough, the Aurora draws up alongside a jetty, and all you have to do is get the lift down to deck five, shove a tenner in a machine (pesetas or whatever spew out the bottom) and then trip down the gang plank. If you have to anchor out (which only happened to us in Lanzarote), you're transported ashore by tender (boats that seat about 100 at a time), which is somewhat more tedious.
Our first port day was in Vigo, a little Spanish city; we strolled up to the castle at the top of the hill, ate some tapas in a pretty square, had a beer, then went back onboard to watch an afternoon movie. You don't have to show your passport to get on or off, only your "cruise card", which doubles as a credit card onboard (the ship is a cash-free zone).
Hiring a car at the travel agents onboard is simple and dirt cheap at about £20 for the day. In Lanzarote, we drove up to the island's fabulous volcanic national park - frustratingly you're not allowed to walk about and poke at the lava - and then found a beach with translucent water and white sand. In Tenerife (which is a stunning island, with gloriously jagged volcanic peaks: why does no one ever tell you that?), we drove up high and wished we could be there longer - in fact, we swore to go back.
If you don't like doing your own thing, there are lots of organised trips. In Madeira, a much lusher island than the previous two, we went on an off-road Jeep trip up into the densely-vegetated mountains. Again, we vowed to go back - the German guide said it has the prettiest walking in Europe - although the trip itself was all driving; not enough stops and too much high-speed swerving around and bashing up and down.
There is only one real danger with all this zero-effort travel: getting left behind. Because the Aurora waits for no man - or woman, or child. She leaves when she leaves, at the time laid down in Aurora Today.
In Madeira, one of our fellow passengers was fortunate that the captain of the pilot boat agreed to rush him out to the ship before she had sailed too far from the jetty (this is a ship that, in an emergency-stop scenario, takes almost a mile to draw to a shuddering halt).
The no-waiting rule goes for the crew, too; one of the Aurora's officers, resplendent in his whites (gold epaulettes, Richard Gere-style cap, the whole gig), told us that he had once left seven laundrymen behind in some port, which apparently caused no end of hassle.
Evenings
These are a big deal on Aurora; the whole point really for many passengers. You get two casual-wear evenings (during which everyone wears black tie), a couple of informal evenings (during which everyone wears black tie) and a clutch of formal evenings (during which, somehow, people seem to go a notch above black tie and no one is allowed to take their jackets off in the bars, even at 2am). The "ladies", as we are frequently described in Aurora Today, drip with gold and black lace, the men with dickie bows and cufflinks.
Weather permitting, the evening begins with a lap around deck seven, the promenade deck, a perfect sunset, a glass of champagne and then a four-course supper.
Later, you could go to the show (they have musicals, comedians, talent shows, karaoke; whatever's your bag) or a film, a late-night drink and maybe even the disco. If it's not too windy and the pools aren't spontaneously emptying themselves, the stars are fantastic out on deck.
And all this is hugely enlivened by the Opening of External Doors Palaver - as soon as the ship's up to full speed (about 24 knots), opening a door to the deck has the same kind of impact as opening an external door on a passenger jet at 35,000ft: panic, hurricane-force winds, people in evening wear flying through the air, grappling for a hand-hold on anything that's nailed down - high drama. Then, just as abruptly, the door slams shut and all is normal again: you can only tell it ever happened by looking at your hair.
Eating
Very popular; very easy to do. Basically, you can eat at any time of day and night and it's free. If you don't want to attend the formal sittings in the two main dining rooms, you can do room service or eat in Café Bordeaux, a 24-hour bistro (which is great and lets you smoke, unlike the other restaurants). During the day, there are buffets or barbecues on deck. Our favourite evening meal was an Indian buffet.
The food's not five-star, but they don't aim for that: they aim for no complaints. That means the food is hot when it reaches the table, you can always have anything on the menu, the vegetables are crisp, the rolls are fresh, the service is matchless and there's a good wine list.
This is catering on an industrial scale - they have a microwave below-deck that could cook a grown man in under a minute - done with great panache.
Children
There's a kids' area with its own pool and indoor adventure playground. They play games, charge about and are well shielded from any interference from adult relatives. They go to the early sitting at supper (6pm) and at night children and babies can be left in the kids' area, on a cute little line of beds, until 2am.
Seasickness
About 3% of us are particularly susceptible, apparently, but even in quite stormy seas the Aurora hardly budges. She has enormous stabilisers swivelling about just under the water on either side to steady her and you couldn't ask for a more comfortable ride. But if you do feel really grotty, there's a little hospital onboard.
Costs
The price doesn't put people off; it's not unusual to meet someone who's been on more than 40 cruises. Many people said they had managed to secure a 40% discount from Teletext or similar, and then, of course, everything on board (except alcohol, the duty-free shops and day-trips) is included, which is pretty good value if you do the posh dinner-plus-show thing every night. A gin and tonic is £1.75, a bottle of champagne about £20: cheaper than London, at least.
The practicals
The Guardian was a guest of P&O Cruises on Aurora for a nine-night cruise from Southampton to Vigo, Lanzarote, Tenerife and Madeira. Fares were from £1,375 for adults. A 12-night "Canaries Carousel" cruise from Southampton on December 1 costs from £1,525 per adult. From January 2001, Aurora will be sailing round the world. Fares start from £2,460 for 19 nights from Bombay to Southampton. Aurora returns to Southampton in April and on April 28 sails on a12-night Canaries Cruise. Prices start from £1,695 per person. For a P&O Cruises brochure call 0990 726726. To make a booking, call 020-7800 2222.
