If it wasn’t printed on my birth certificate (and if my knees didn’t creak in the morning when I hopped out of bed) I’d never believe that me, Honey, has reached that milestone that marks a half century.
Now don’t get me wrong, I know that in this unfair world, the ultimate privilege is to age. But humour this now 50-year-old for a moment; I think it’s unfair that my life now revolves around the rollercoaster of menopausal hot flushes and bouts of irrational crying. Weren’t the 90s only 10 years ago? The inside Honey does not match the outside Honey, no matter how many litres of peroxide I dump on my tresses.
My saving grace in ageing ungracefully is that no matter what my legal age, at sea, I’m ageless. Dressing up is not restricted to young children, dancing with the Grinch isn’t frowned upon and letting out a squeal of delight at the sight of the latest towel animal in my cabin is a perfectly acceptable reaction.
While my husband, AKA Mr Cruising With Honey, wanted to throw me lavish party on land, I firmly, yet kindly, planted my feet into said land and loudly proclaimed, “I want to cruise”.
You see, for the last 10 years, since starting my blog Cruising With Honey, I have celebrated my birthday at sea with my cruising family. Technically my social media ‘followers’, I prefer to call them ‘fam’.
Some who join me have come along for my Birthday Cruise At Sea every year, some join every few years, and every cruise there are first-timers. Some come solo, some in family groups. Some have disabilities, some with illness and some who are chronically shy. My philosophy is unchanged: all are welcome.
At sea, we aren’t judged by how many times we’ve circled the sun, how big our bank balance is or which pronouns we use. Heck, you aren’t even judged by how many desserts you scoff at dinner. After cruising 60 times, I’ve come to the realisation that you’re ‘judged’ by your generosity of spirit.
Now I did start this column bemoaning turning 50, but in truth, I’m the luckiest gal alive. To be accepted and loved by a handful of people is the biggest gift in life. Imagine being enveloped by that love times 60.
Whether at dinner having shots, belting out tunes at Karaoke, dancing the night away at my Disco Diva ’76 party or being stunned in the Presidential Suite with a surprise party, this four-day cruise was the ultimate celebration.
If you’ve gotten this far, you might think I’m the most self-centred individual to sail the seas, but what I’m trying to illustrate is the nature of The Cruiser – whether they are friends of mine or not. And if you’ve cruised, you know what I mean.
It’s like there’s an unwritten rule that strangers immediately become friends the moment the mooring lines are released. Smiling as you pass each other in the hallways, cheering as the tone-deaf mum belts out a tune at Karaoke or buying a cocktail for the guy next to you at the bar as you don’t want to drink alone.
Could it be the magic combination of sea, a repose from the mundane chores of life and unlimited food? I’ve reflected on this, trying to work out the answer. And as the reasons keep swirling in my head, all roads lead back to one, logical conclusion: the crew.
There isn’t much choice for cruising in July in Australia. There is Carnival… and there is Carnival. And I know that when P&O sailed off into the sunset only to be absorbed by Carnival about 18 months ago, I was probably one of the loudest and most critical voices. (Trust me, I am still Cruising Enemy Number 1 in some circles for my honest review).
But having now cruised a few times on Carnival Adventure, I knew it was the ship I wanted to celebrate for many reasons, but the main being that the beating heart of the ship – the crew – are extraordinary.
The crew set the tone, the vibe as us Aussies say. From the room steward who greets you cheerily at every encounter to the waiters that make sure you’ve ordered the right dish to the entertainment crew whose cheeks must ache at the end of every shift from smiling so much, it’s that all-encompassing atmosphere that is created that puts you – not just me – front and centre in every interaction.
As we docked back in Sydney and the spell of cruise life slowly wore off, I realised I’d spent far less time thinking about turning 50 than I had laughing. Somewhere between cocktails and too many Carnival melting cakes, my worries about ageing quietly slipped overboard.
Perhaps that’s the greatest gift cruising has given me over the past decade; the reminder that joy doesn’t come with an age limit. It comes from saying yes to adventures, surrounding yourself with good people and never being too old to dance when your favourite Prince song comes on.
So, if you’re dreading a milestone birthday, may I offer some unsolicited advice? Skip the lavish party. Go where your soul feels light.
For me, that’s at sea, surrounded by people who started as strangers and somehow became family. Fifty suddenly doesn’t seem so old when you’re already planning cruise number 61. And if my knees complain as I race to the sail-away party? Well… they’ll just have to keep up.
