Queen Elizabeth: Echoes of empire aboard classic cruise ship
The tea dance on Queen Elizabeth is one of the last bastions of Britishness but with an Australian twist.
It’s Valentine’s Day and, despite slightly unruly seas between Adelaide and Hobart, the lofty, gilded Queen’s Room is in full swing for the 3.30pm tea dance. The orchestra is playing, Twinings blends are being poured with suitable ceremony, ladies are clutching single red roses, and silver stands of scones and sandwiches and little pastries are doing the rounds. Couples are up and dancing, some dressed to the nines, others in holiday clothing, and one chap in tight shorts and sneakers. Here we have one of the last bastions of Britishness but with an Australian twist.
Queen Elizabeth is sailing on a series of voyages along our coastline, and local passengers have brought a wave of informality to proceedings. There are many merry seniors aboard, multi-generational groups, and great care is taken to assist and accommodate those in wheelchairs or on walking frames. Things may be more casual than is customary on longer itineraries aboard this grand liner but the fun factor is very agreeable. One of three “Queens” in the Cunard fleet, Elizabeth was launched in 2010, recently refurbished, holds 2080 guests and rises to 12 decks. It is an elegant ship with proper nautical livery and art deco-inspired curves, all polished teak and shiny brass and many mementos of the maritime line’s storied history across its walls and cabinets of curiosities.
There are Union Jack motifs galore, and that classic red and black Cunard funnel is recognisable across the world of shipping. I do a self-guided tour of memorabilia and linger over faded photos of royals and personalities aboard the two original Queens as they plied the Atlantic weighted with steamer trunks, furs, tuxedos and tiaras. Displayed in glass cases, five-course dinner menus from the original RMS Queen Elizabeth, which made crossings between Southampton and New York from the 40s to the early 60s, announce dishes in French and perhaps a glass of 1959 Chateau d’Yquem with your pudding “aux prunes a l’Anglaise”.
The shops of the Royal Arcade form a veritable Piccadilly high street of boutiques with approved brands such as Penhaligon’s, Jo Malone, Ted Baker, Olivia Burton and Buckley London. A Barbour waxed jacket would set you up for a spot of grouse shooting back at the country estate. The gift shop is doing a roaring trade in teddy bears with Bobby police hats, west highland terrier soft toys in tartan scarves, and miniature red double-deckers, postboxes and Big Bens, variously filled with toffees, boiled sweets and Walkers shortbread.
There’s a West End-inspired theatre with balcony boxes rather than, thankfully, novelty attractions such as the present trend for waterslides and aerial walkways. Instead, consider a solid timetable of genteel pursuits on sea days. I could, for example, indulge in a watercolour art class, ballroom dancing demonstration, bridge lesson, table tennis tournament, a spot of social whist or needlework or an array of trivia quizzes. I could play a game of “killer darts” in the Golden Lion, a recreated British pub with ceiling beams, pulled pints and ploughman’s platters. Or I could (and do) purchase a “bath house” multi-day pass for the newly jazzed-up Mareel wellness and beauty spa, where I soak in the aqua therapy centre’s heated hydro pool, take a Finnish sauna, sensory shower and aromatic steam, and lie on a warm mosaic-tiled lounger, basking like a seal.
Across a ship of this size, there are plenty of spaces for a quiet read or conversation, including the wonderful two-storey library dominated by a mariner’s globe of the world, and the conservatory-style Garden Lounge, all light and bright on Deck 9 with the Pavilion Pool beyond, and looking freshly uplifted from Kew Gardens. Passengers in the top-level Grills accommodation category have their own lounge on Deck 11 along with a pair of fine-dining restaurants, named Queen and Princess, with a pecking order to match. It’s a very English segregation, these days based on money and not social standing, harking back to an era when first-class passengers had their own sets of stairs on the great Cunard liners and didn’t have to make eye contact with their servants or the lower-downs. Queen Elizabeth doesn’t feel at all like that but the continuation of this tiered structure does seem an anachronism. “That’s where the bloody toffs must be!” announces one chap when he realises he needs an elevator card to reach the realms of Deck 11.
Nonetheless, accommodation-wise, you’d want to be in at least a Britannia Balcony stateroom or next-level Princess or Queen Grills stateroom, with separate lounge area, good storage and bathroom, and a generous veranda. I potter around alone in a suite, feeling like Lady Muck, and am fortunate that butlers Cristina and Juanito have a sense of humour, although my small demands are obviously a source of concern. No laundry? Madame, you haven’t opened your champagne! Finally, when I invite a few fellow travellers in for canapes and French fizz, Cristina sighs with relief and organises the small pre-dinner party as if it were a banquet.
So, to the service, and it is excellent and patient, even when there are passengers queue-jumping at The Lido buffets on Deck 9 and having altercations about sittings at the split-level Britannia dining room, which just gushes glamour. Most ships have free seating but Cunard clings to early and late-dinner timings at Britannia, silver cloches, hot breakfasts, three-course lunches and an air of formality, although I do have the best dish of Singapore noodles imaginable. New to the mix since January is Steakhouse at The Verandah, also aboard Queen Mary 2 and Queen Victoria, featuring the likes of Australian Wagyu beef, Maine lobster, New York-style strip steak and French saltmarsh lamb. This is a surcharge restaurant, at $US25 ($40) a person for lunch and $US39 for dinner; also at extra cost is the smallish Mexican diner Aztec, at $US19.50 a head.
The food served at The Lido across three meals and multiple smorgasbord stations, plus a good pizza and pasta counter, is mostly fine, varying from platters of sushi and sashimi that need to be replenished much more quickly to carvery roasts and an acreage of desserts. There are low-sugar and gluten-free options, and Canyon Ranch Spa wellness dishes on restaurant menus. The coffee is no better than sludge but the real thing is available, at a cost, from cosy Cafe Carinthia. Bars? I give you at least seven, and don’t miss the stylish and relatively hushed Commodore Club and Yacht Club, nestled like eyries on Deck 10 and with “piano entertainers” as the sun sets and late-night dancing to smooth tunes.
Captain Inger Klein Thorhauge, born in Denmark’s wild and windy Faroe Islands and at sea since her teens, presides over a tight ship. Everything runs like clockwork, with embarkation and disembarkation processes handled well. In Hobart, the only port of call during my four-night sojourn, plenty of cheery volunteers on the docks hand out maps and suggest tours and attractions. But to truly committed fans of cruising, ports are a mere interruption, and many passengers choose to stay on board, bag the best deckchairs and enjoy discount facials and massages at Mareel. There’s a lot of talk, as I eavesdrop, of ships past and those to come. When I’m asked, “What next?” by a lovely Adelaide traveller, I soon realise my reply of Singapore is hardly suffice when it’s met with a rolling of her eyes. “No, no, Susan — which ship?”
Susan Kurosawa was a guest of Cunard.
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Melbourne will be a key “home port” for Queen Elizabeth, the second-largest Cunard ship, over the next three summer cruise seasons, through to 2021. A two-night short break cruise from Adelaide to Melbourne departs December 20; from $469 a person twin-share in an inside cabin or $619 in a Britannia Balcony stateroom. A 14-night return cruise from Melbourne to ports in New Zealand departs December 22. Full details of the 2020 cruise season will be released next month.