Few of life's vertical pleasures, with the possible exception of trousering a bookmaker's cash, can match the feeling of satisfaction that comes from being on a well-found ship on its way to interesting places. And there can't be many better-found ships than the MV Discovery, recently returned from cruising the Baltic with your correspondent.
The word 'cruising' tends to set some nerves-a-jangle, with its connotations of blue rinse, black tie, and pink gin. I confess, I had my own doubts about it, having never been on a cruise longer than Westminster Pier to the Thames Barrier. I needn't have worried though. The ship was wonderful and the company excellent. Best of all, the destinations were splendid.
We made our way into the Baltic by way of the Kiel Canal, built by Kaiser Bill to get his capital ships out into the North Sea without having to make a 280-mile detour round the north of Denmark. It's enormous, and I had somehow imagined that it would be lined with industrial works. Not a bit of it: for most of its 61 miles, the canal runs straight as a stair rod by charming pasture and wooded banks. It's an odd sensation, sitting on top of a thumping great mass of steel, watching Germans watching us at close quarters. Lots of smiles and waves, and at one point a pretty young girl on a bicycle kept pace with us on the towpath for mile after mile.
Out into the Baltic, we were able to pick up speed as we made for Warnem ünde, a popular German resort close to the old Hanseatic port of Rostock. Not very much of the former's medieval glory has survived the attentions of Allied bombers in the war, or the attention of East German architects since. But our next call was Tallinn, capital of Estonia and a marvellously preserved Hanseatic city. The local folk all seemed to have passed an intensive course in charm, courtesy and excellent English, and were remarkably friendly given that their city has become a destination of choice for British stag parties.
Onward and eastwards to St Petersburg, to be predictably astonished by its beauty. Happily, we tied up close to the city centre, in sight of its golden cupulas, Canaletto-ish architecture, and certifiably insane drivers. Because we didn't have individual Russian visas, we were obliged to join the tours organised by Voyages of Discovery. No hardship there: they were briskly but not brutally organised, and gave us at least an introduction to the wonderful canal system, splendid imperial buildings and, of course, the colossal treasure of The Hermitage.
This is where one of the most obvious disadvantages of cruising kicked in. We had just three or four hours to skid round one of the world's finest art collections, goggling at roomfuls of Rubens, Picasso, Monet, Rembrandt - you name it, they've got it. We heard half a dozen versions of the same joke: if you examine each of The Hermitage's works or art for 30 seconds, it will take you eight years to see the lot. Or six years. Or seven years. Or, as young people say, wha'evvah.
Thence to Helsinki, for yet another kind of revelation. The port comes right into the city, so to speak, with a vibrant market by the water's edge only a hop and a skip to the main shopping hub. We teamed up with the memsahib's Finnish penfriend of ancient standing, and took lunch in the elegant restaurant-bar where Sibelius, I have it on good authority, frequently drank himself silly. Oh, and Jacques Chirac is quite wrong: Finnish food is extremely good. The man doesn't know his farci from his quenelle beau.
The next bit was wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen. Or it would have been wonderful if it hadn't been pouring down. Still, that's why God created bars, so that tourists don't have to get wet. On the way from the harbour, a splendid bit of culture-clash: a party of Chinese tourists was vigorously photographing each other by the Little Mermaid, while a party of US tourists loudly, and none too politely, yelled at them to stand clear. Why the devil either party was interested entirely escapes me. She's a nice Little Mermaid, but nothing to flap your tail about.
And so back on board, for a last fossick through the Kattegat and Skaggerak - two of the most lovely words not in the English language - and across the North Sea to Harwich. There the disembarkation was handled with military efficiency. 600 passengers mustered, grouped, and ushered off in, I would guess, half an hour. The ship was already being prepared for a lunchtime party for 200 guests, and was due to sail on her next cruise at 4pm.
Now this might smack somewhat of regimentation, but that would be deeply misleading. The organisation of the ship was fascinating, but never onerous. There was lots to do, but nobody was obliged to do it: from the daily quiz and crossword to some genuinely classy cabaret, through the intermediate stages of bridge and a small but serviceable casino, there could be no excuse for boredom.
Then there's the food. My God, there's the food. There are just two hours between dawn and midnight when it is quite difficult - but not, I suspect, impossible - for Discovery passengers to stuff their faces. And it's good stuff, with plenty of choice and excellent service. The wine list is pretty ooja-cum-spiff too. Truly it is said that if you want to put on a bit of weight, you only have to go to sea or to prison.
The Discovery is not, happily, one of those cruise ships that requires passengers to wear silly clothes. There were a couple of dinners that were billed as formal, but a collar and tie were deemed sufficiently uncomfortable. Women could be as glam as they wanted, and the men too could imitate penguins if they wished. Damn it, they could even don that most unfortunate of garments, the white tuxedo.
To our relief, there was none of the contrived nonsense about changing tables every evening, or vying for the captain's company. Instead, we had the same companions every evening, and very congenial it was. We were the only cruising virgins, though; everyone else seemed extraordinarily knowledgeable about floating holidays, and could swap tales of the Oriana, the QE2, and a dozen other behemoths of the ocean.
Quite clearly, this is a way of life for those with the time and means to enjoy it. And enjoy it we did, just like our fellow passengers. Apart from the odd mini-quibble - I heard one man grizzle mildly about a quiz answer being dubious - everyone on board seemed in the sunniest possible mood, and that was infectious.
The Discovery is just one of scores of cruise liners, but it is in some important respects unique. It has no sister-ships, and is dedicated to cultural exploration. The ship, built in the early 1980s, is approaching nautical middle age, but doing so gracefully and with extraordinary vigour. She started this summer's cruise programme in mid-May, and will be working, every single day, until November or December next year.
At most ports we visited, we were amazed and amused by the way the ship was primped and titivated. Deck hands would scurry ashore with pots of white paint and improbably tiny rollers on long poles, to cover up any tiny blemish in the glistening white livery. On board, brass gleamed and glass glistened, and the crew was crisply laundered.
Would we go cruising again? Sure thing, if we could afford it. Some folk might be irritated by not being wholly in charge of their holiday, but that's the whole point. You hand over the responsibility to somebody else, and have your holiday pass by your porthole every day. You only have to pack and unpack once, and otherwise you do whatever you jolly well please. On the Discovery, the hardest decision is whether to have your gin pink or with tonic. It's a tough old life.
Way to go:
Derek Brown travelled with cruise specialist Voyages of Discovery on the Baltic Capitals cruise, which departs Harwich June 3 2006 with ports of call at Copenhagen, Stockholm, Tallinn, St Petersburg, Helsinki and Warnemunde, with transit of the Kiel Canal before returning to Harwich. Prices start at £1129pp based on two sharing an inside cabin if you book 90 days or more before departure, including full board accommodation, parking at the port or coach transfers from central London, onboard lectures, entertainment, taxes and tips.
Winter destinations in 2005-06 include Antarctica, the Caribbean, the Amazon, the South Pacific, New Zealand, Polynesia and the Galapagos Islands
To book, call 01444 462150 or visit voyagesofdiscovery.com, for further information. Email: info@voyagesofdiscovery.com
