Every day at sea seems to find its own pace, gently shaped by what my body will allow and what brings us the most joy. Over the years, we’ve learned to lean into the activities that make us feel connected, engaged, and a little more a part of shipboard life, even if we can’t participate in everything offered. On these long voyages, we often remind ourselves that it’s not about how many activities we can cram into a day, but rather about savoring the few we genuinely enjoy.
For us, trivia has become almost a treasured ritual, one that easily fits into the flow of our days. There’s something comforting about settling into the familiar surroundings of the Schooner Bar, a venue that seems purpose-built for friendly competition and lighthearted banter. Its nautical décor, soft lighting, and the unmistakable smell of polished wood make it feel like a cozy retreat from the bustle of the ship.
Sometimes, if the schedule changes, trivia is moved to the Star Lounge, which has an entirely different energy, brighter, livelier, and often packed with passengers eager to test their knowledge. Wherever it’s held, we show up with the same enthusiasm, not necessarily expecting to win but always ready to laugh at the obscure questions we somehow manage to get right and groan at the ones we miss by a mile. Over time, we’ve become familiar faces to the staff members who run the programs, and there’s a certain comfort in that tiny sense of belonging.
Of course, the daily activity schedules tempt us with countless other options. It’s easy to imagine a version of ourselves darting from event to event, trying it all. But the reality is that with my mobility issues, we’ve learned to pace ourselves and choose experiences that don’t push me to my limits. At first, I’ll admit, it was a challenge to accept these limitations. Yet somewhere along the way, we shifted our perspective. Instead of focusing on what we can’t do, we’ve started cherishing what we can. There’s a kind of quiet empowerment in curating our days around what works for me, rather than fighting against it. Tom is totally fine with my limitations and never complains.
Our mornings are perhaps the most consistent part of our routine. After a hopefully good night’s sleep, we make our way to the Promenade Café, laptops in tow, ready to ease into the day. This small ritual has become an anchor for us. There’s something so pleasant about sitting together at our little table (often at the same spot on the banquet, watching passengers pass by, some still half-asleep and reaching for their first cup of coffee, while others seem more energized, already chatting about their plans. We sip our complimentary tea or coffee and work side by side, the hum of conversation providing a gentle background soundtrack. Occasionally, the aroma of pastries or other snacks wafts by, but since we don’t eat more than twice a day, we resist the temptation.
Most days, our eating pattern stays predictable: either appetizers in the Crown Lounge around 4:30 pm, where the atmosphere feels relaxed and refined, or, if hunger strikes earlier, a quick bite at the Windjammer Café. The buffet is always bustling, with passengers filling their plates with everything imaginable. We tend to keep things simple, finding something meaty and keto. It’s not really about the food as much as maintaining a rhythm that keeps us feeling our best.
Of course, our favorite activity is conversing with other guests and hearing their travel adventures as we share ours. We meet a wide array of travelers. Last night, at dinner, in the main dining room, we had a fantastic time chatting with avid travelers well into their 80s, as an inspiration for us as we continue on.
In the end, our shipboard routine isn’t flashy or jam-packed, but it’s ours. We’ve shaped it with intention, listening to what feels right each day. And in that gentle, deliberate pacing, we’ve discovered that we can still feel deeply connected to life onboard, even if our days look a little different than they once did.
Be well.
Photos from ten years ago today, November 20, 2015:
