A sea change of pace

The enticing swimming pool and spas aboard Aurora

Snuggled up against the Auckland Hilton, the Aurora dwarfs everything within proximity - well everything except our luggage, which, like us, is destined for this sleek white, ocean liner.

The Aurora is P&O's response to an ever-increasing demand for luxury cruising, and we're boarding her half-way round a world cruise that will take us to Sydney and Brisbane.

This is new territory for me: cruising. I'm heavily conditioned by the ticking clock of airport departures. Here boarding is anywhere from 2pm and definitely no later than 6pm for an 8pm departure.

Once aboard you are left to roam, investigate and find your berth. Of 1800 passengers, my wife and I were the only ones wandering around like Waikato cows trying to find our cabin among the 920 aboard.

We found Canberra Deck easily enough, as well as the numbers either side of our allocated cabin, but missing in the middle was ours.

A crew member - there is one for every two passengers - quickly pointed out that we should be on the starboard side, not the port side.

When we eventually found it, our cabin led to a private balcony where, some days later, I would spot a whale breaching against the backdrop of a placid Tasman Sea.

On the dresser sat a bottle of champagne on ice, and a welcome note from P&O. And a reality check: With information about dinner arrangements was a note from the fleet medical officer about the dreaded norovirus.

The "vomiting and diarrhoea" bug is just as much at home at sea as on land and has plagued many a cruise. Prevention, were were instructed, was a simple matter of personal hygiene.

We later discovered how seriously this was taken when we went to The Orangery, the Aurora's buffet-style restaurant.

Day or night, staff members squirt a disinfectant gel on your hands before you set foot in the restaurant.

Then another reminder - while you are in cruise mode, you also need to be in safety mode. We were asked to locate our cabin lifejackets and bring them to a safety briefing.

The captain's message is reassuring, cultured and dressed in a language that enables you to read between the lines. "Our crew are highly trained to deal with any and all situations, should they arise."

My mind quickly races through a few modern scenarios. The Wahine, Indonesian pirates' hijacking of a Shell oil tanker, Robert Hewitt's three days adrift ... The captain has my undivided attention - especially when his missive turns to sea sickness.

I've spent my entire life living near or by the sea, yet I'm the sort of person that can fall into a blithering spiral just watching a shore-break wash around my feet. So boarding anything from a floating tractor tyre to the QE2 means the chances of losing my lunch are extremely high.

I'd come armed with ginger-based travel tablets and a small library of inventive remedies from friends and relatives, including one which has you walking around with a huge wad of Blu Tack in one ear.

If all else failed, the ship's doctor had an injection waiting in the wings.

The Aurora is so huge and stable, it glides through ocean swells and I didn't disgrace myself. Well not from sea sickness.

So tiny was the movement, that I once awoke in the night convinced that we had stopped or taken safe anchor somewhere.

Blindly I walked to our balcony, found the rail and peered at the moonlit sea hissing past at 25 knots.

Ship's activities also take some getting used to. Deck tennis I could play all day, and was disappointed to have missed a net cricket match.

But the main preoccupation appeared to be testing yourself to see just how much food you could delicately stuff in at any one sitting.

And everyone we dined with, it seemed, had an opinion. I thought the range and presentation of food was of a very high standard - we should know, we tried every restaurant and cafe aboard during our six days and it took me weeks to gain the courage to venture on to a set of scales.

Far and away the most popular gastronomical event was taking afternoon tea in Alexandria's. The queue for the cakes, chocolates, coffee and English tea - I referred to this as the "cardiologists' banquet" - would almost run the length of the ship.

Dress standards were strictly observed for an evening's dining and I'm forever grateful I packed a suit.

Formal nights are an excellent excuse to shake the moths out of your kilt, tuxedo or ballgown and take in a floor show, or just walk the promenade deck.

Things can and do go wrong and some passengers on their 3rd or 4th voyages had some some fascinating yarns. Seems that on a previous trip the Aurora developed engine problems and eventually had to limp back to Southampton.

We spoke to several who were on this trip. Each had their fares fully refunded without hesitation and immediately offered another cruise at a hugely discounted rate. No doubt the cruise we were on.

An early arrival in Sydney and our berth at Circular Quay gave us a full day out catching up with friends and relatives. The passenger terminals at harbour cities like Sydney and Auckland are just terrific; you step off the ship and you're downtown. Not so in a river city like Brisbane.

Two hundred years ago, the only way you could get there was by ship, but the port facilities for passenger processing have long given way to heavy industry.

Consequently, 1800 foreign day-tourists were disembarked by the Brisbane Port Authority on to a crumbling wharf at Pinkenba, somewhere between old grain silos and the sewage works, then hustled into a large tent and processed by a mobile Australian Immigration unit.

Miles from the city and parked up a long disused road, there was just one X-ray unit mounted on the back of a truck. Not the best way to greet overseas visitors.

This aside, I came away convinced a cruise is a holiday you take when you find yourself saying, "I just need to stop and rest" but still want to do something exotic

If there is one thing that should be on life's "must do" list, this is it. But be warned, it is addictive.


CHECKLIST

Do

Explore the ship at every opportunity

P&O offer a range of services and suggestions for the first-time traveller. Take advantage of these.

Read all correspondence in your berth mail box. You could miss dinner at the Captain's table!

Definitely pack formal dress. You won't regret it.

Watch the budget. Food and drinks are all-inclusive but outside formal dining hours, you pay for beverages in the ship's currency, pounds.

Make good use of the ship's laundry.

Use the ship's reception for any problems that may occur.

Don't

Over-pack. Your days will mostly be spent poolside.

Try to use your mobile phone. It won't work once you've lost sight of land. Use email for communication with the outside world or in emergencies, the ship can be phoned. Check your pre-boarding information booklets for details

Let the personal hygiene slip. If anything, you won't regret being slightly fussier than normal.

Prices

World Cruises depart from Britain and range from the basic inside twin cabin priced around $22,581 each to $97,601 for a stately penthouse suite with two balconies. Remember there's no need to do the full journey. If you don't wish to do the full round trip, then try a leg of it. You won't be disappointed.

* Rod Emmerson travelled courtesy of P&O Cruises Australia.