I hold the Gatwick baggage handlers personally responsible. I live in north London, goddammit, and outing yourself as a cruise convert just isn't on.
Typical responses from our friends and neighbours to the announcement that we'd been on a cruise ranged from an exclamatory 'You did what...?' to an almost regal 'Oh, how nice...' before the subject was swiftly changed.
Saying that we actually enjoyed it would have been an insult too far for Islingtonian sensibilities.
But it's not my fault. Honest. It's all to do with our previous half-term holiday which ended with a horrendous delay at the airport on our return from the chattering-classes-approved obligatory villa, culminating with our luggage being held hostage at Gatwick airport for two-and-a-half hours around midnight, while we tried to placate four extremely tired and fractious children. An experience so burned into my consciousness that it obliterated any of the fond memories of the holiday itself.
The only thing I hold dear from the whole farce is the excuse for the slowness in offloading the baggage from the plane offered by Gatwick - that the delay was due to the 'unexpected' number of flights arriving at the airport. Silly old me, I always thought you had to arrange landing slots in advance. Clearly not at Gatwick, where planes presumably just choose to land at a whim, causing havoc for the astonished baggage handlers.
So it was that we ended up on the high seas on P&O's Oriana, where the travelling - barring the couple of (predictable) hours to Southampton - is the holiday itself. The other major advantage for a family of six is the full-on childcare: and what an advantage it turned out to be.
The 'Autumn Getaway' cruise lasted a week, with stops in Lisbon, Vigo, La Rochelle and Guernsey. As bags were still a sensitive issue after the Gatwick experience, I was impressed with the way they were whisked from car to cabin in the twinkling of an eye on our arrival at the terminal. Maybe the Gatwick boys ought to spend a few days seeing how it's done in Southampton - no 'unexpected' arrivals here.
In spite of the painless and faultlessly organised embarkation process we arrived on board for our week at sea with all our pre-cruise prejudices in full working order. We spent the first hour nosing round the decks keeping a careful eye out for the Zimmer-frame-wielding lottery winners who we fully expected to entirely populate the ship.
A compulsory emergency drill gave us the opportunity to examine our fellow passengers while we tried our life jackets on and were told off for blowing the whistles. Some of the grey brigade were on board but there seemed to be a good mix of families of all ages.
We had a very smart cabin which came with a balcony and a steward called Tony who couldn't do enough for us - mysteriously appearing every time we opened the door, ready to cater to our every need. In the end we decided he slept outside the door.
Every evening Tony assembled a cot for our youngest, Jack, turned down our double bed, placed essential night-night chocs on our pillows and folded our toilet roll into a charming shape.
The children's cabin was more three-star than five-star, but perfectly adequate for them. Although it had no outside window, the sealed-in dark effect at least ensured some lie-ins.
When it comes to family holidays you usually believe the old cliché that if the children are happy then you're happy. For most of the cruise they were ecstatic, largely due to the other dreaded holiday cliché: 'kids' clubs.'
Our eldest daughter, Kitty, is 11 going on about 19, so the very idea of going to Decibels, the club for nine to 13-year-olds initially appalled her. But bribed to go on the welcome tour on the first day, she met a group of girls her age and went completely native - we barely saw her again until we disembarked. Her little gang joined in plenty of club activities, swimming, games, discos and so on, and if they didn't like the agenda they took off to the on-board cinema or drank Shirley Temples at the poolside bar.
The middle two, Molly, six, and Alice, four, were in Peter Pans club, which was well kitted out, with an indoor balls area, an outdoor playground next to the kids' pool and a video-watching area. They had themed days and activities and at collection time you'd be deluged with arts and crafts by face-painted enthusiasts. In fact, when they were dragged out at 5.15 in the afternoons for children's tea, it was only the promise of a return visit in the evening that got them out of the door.
The children's menu was good and imaginative, not all nuggets or pizza. I had to leave my wife, Maria, to it as picking randomly at chips or puddings with a huge dinner to come was not clever.
Some children waited to dine with their parents at 6pm, the first sitting for dinner. We had decided to eat at the second sitting at eight on our own as Jack would be in bed, Molly and Alice at Peter Pans' videofest and Kitty hanging about being cool. So with no children in tow we requested a table for two on the form you filled in before the cruise, but somehow this got lost in translation and every night we sat a deux at a table magnificently laid for six.
Dinner was a fairly formal affair, you have your own wine steward and two waiters to mind you as you trough through four or five courses, and once again the food was very good, far better than expected. The Sunday night Captain's 'Welcome Aboard' dinner turned up an excellent champagne sorbet and some fine rock lobster. Hygiene is also scrupulously policed by the army of waiters, especially since the Norwalk stomach virus has caused so much trouble on cruises. Any knife or fork falling off a table was immediately caught before it had bounced twice and substituted with a gleaming replacement. And in the buffet restaurants, all diners were expected to use the antiseptic wipes universally on offer.
Seven straight nights in the same restaurant with the same people did wear a bit, though - as did the prodigious amounts of food available both at the formal meal times and the unlimited buffet dining opportunities throughout the day.
Don't get me wrong, we haven't gone cruising ga-ga. The important thing is to take from it what you will. I found the formal evenings - when men generally went for black tie (or worse) - a strain, as that's precisely what I go on holiday to get away from. Though for many on board dressing up was an integral part of the experience.
The nightly entertainment, put on by the ship's large contingent of enthusiastic singers and dancers was for many the central attraction of a cruise. Although we did try some of the shows on offer in the huge theatre, the Elvis night was so unwittingly reminiscent of Father Ted 's three ages of the King that we thought we'd get ejected for giggling.
Instead we amused ourselves with the first-run movies on offer every day and - my particular favourite - by taking advantage of what any cruise has in abundance: the sea. A good book, a glass of wine and a seat on a quiet part of the deck gazing out into the distance, and you could almost imagine yourself back in the days when this was the only way to travel long distances.
The first port of call after Southampton was Vigo, in Northern Spain. Copious numbers of tours and excursions are available at each stop, the most popular booked well in advance. But after a day and a half confined with our fellow passengers - and considering that most of the outings were unsuitably long for children - we evolved a freelance plan which worked throughout the cruise: we jumped in the first taxi (and there are always plenty hovering around) and said take us to the zoo.
Any language difficulties were easily overcome by getting young Jack to do his very passable 'King of the Swingers' from Jungle Book monkey impressions. And with no qualms about taking six of us in his taxi, the driver whisked us off in the opposite direction from the escorted coach tours.
Our driver also threw in a trip to the local fortified castle, taking in the Celta Vigo football stadium and the El Corte Inglés department store for good measure. But the main advantage of having a local at the wheel was his restaurant knowledge. All that for €50 (£35), a fraction of the cost of an excursion.
He delivered us to a local cafe that whisked up omelettes for the children and platters of fresh seafood for us that were the perfect antidote to the communal catering on board.
Certain aspects of the cruising traditions from the old days observed on board Oriana were appealing - the departure from Southampton accompanied by streamers and a band playing 'Rule Britannia': the captain himself, Mike Carr, straight from central casting, so experienced and re-assuring that you would have trusted him to pilot you through the Roaring Forties in a bathtub.
And then there are the games. A ship the size of Oriana comes complete with a basketball court, a five-a-side football pitch and more swimming pools than you can shake a stick at, but I developed a bit of a passion for the games they played in the days when Noël Coward lounged around on deck in a smoking jacket clutching an unfeasibly large cocktail. So much so that I came home sporting a repetitive strain injury caused by overexertion in the deck quoits and shuffleboard competitions.
Lisbon was the highlight of the land-based element of the cruise. Arriving at first light, gliding under its Golden Gate-like bridge gazing up at the huge statue of Christ that dominates the hills outside the city is the perfect introduction to the Portuguese capital.
As soon as we docked, the old taxi one-two worked a treat. 'Zoo por favor', and we shot off to the best zoo we've ever been to (and believe me we've been to a quite a few - the all-time worst being Cairo, but that's another story). Lisbon zoo is a gem: contented, well looked-after animals in large enclosures with loads of rides and snack kiosks for the children.
But the best bit is the ancient aerial ride that takes in the vastness of the massive site, allowing you to swoop majestically above crocodiles, elephants and hippos while praying the wire doesn't break over the lion enclosure.
It was a bit frustrating as an adult not to be able to take in some of Lis bon's architectural magnificence or even the shops, but that's got more to do with having a young family than the time restrictions of a cruise shore excursion.
The children were becoming so addicted to their clubs that even a trip to somewhere as enchanting as Lisbon zoo was seen as keeping them away from the essential colouring, dancing and fraternising that had taken over their entire waking lives.
Bad weather prevented us stopping in Guernsey, so La Rochelle turned out to be the last stop. And here we had to customise the taxi/zoo technique for two reasons: we'd had enough of them and La Rochelle doesn't have one. No problem; we just substituted l'aquarium for zoo and we were off unescorted once again.
So would we do it again? As everyone with a young family knows, all holidays are a compromise defined by the old 'if the children are happy' adage, so for our purposes Oriana fitted the bill perfectly, especially for a short trip where the horrors of travelling to your destination can far outweigh the enjoyment and relaxation achieved.
Our children were blissfully happy, and well looked after. We took in three day trips to three wonderful cities and plenty of bracing sea air, while finding that on a ship the size of Oriana with all its organised activities, regimented meal times, and end-of-the-pier entertainment it's still perfectly possible to carve out a niche on the ocean wave that you call your own.
Now where did I leave my cravat and blazer?
Factfile
Dermot Murnaghan travelled with P&O Cruises 0845 3555 333). A seven-night 'Iberian Sojourn' on Oriana, 14-21 October, costs from £681 per adult and £136 for children aged two to 16. Ex-Southampton, the cruise includes stops at Vigo, Lisbon, La Rochelle and St Peter Port, Guernsey.
During the summer months, Oriana visits Barcelona, Monte Carlo, Rome, Palma, Gilbraltar and Lisbon on its 13-night 'Magical Mediterranean' cruise out of Southampton. Adults pay from £1,363 and children from £955.
Kids' clubs: There are four clubs onboard Oriana for children aged two to 17 from 9am to10.30pm. There is also a late-night babysitting facility until 2am.
