Queen Anne is the newest ship from traditional cruise line Cunard – although not everything onboard is conventional, as Sailawaze found out first-hand.
Queen Anne is the newest ship from traditional cruise line Cunard – although not everything onboard is conventional, as Sailawaze found out first-hand.
It’s the first time I’ve seen a pool noodle used as a sexy dance prop – and it’s being gyrated on right in front of me. An actress husks, “I’m looking for someone I’d like to tap like Morse code” and prowls the room in search of audience participation. This immersive cabaret show is not what one expects when bobbing around the North Sea – but at least flotation devices are to hand should anything go wrong.
The truth is, on Cunard’s latest cruise ship Queen Anne, you can barely budge for unlikely entertainment (which is good news for everyone currently on its world voyage). It’s also not the cringe-fest you can get with other lines – the noodle-nodding interactive murder mystery show at the Bright Lights Society [below, left] is just one of the myriad ways to escape the ordinary. Surprise celebrity act Heather Small, who belts out her hits to the ample theatre [below, centre] one morning, feels the same way. “Isn’t it fun on the ship?” she cries to the enthused crowd as we glide from Southampton to Hamburg.
I’ve gone onboard [below, right] Queen Anne with the aim of relaxing for a couple of days but I keep getting distracted by terribly interesting activities. One day a military pilot is followed by a serial killer expert on stage; another I inadvertently end up in an art heist lecture after dawdling too long at a string quartet-accompanied afternoon tea. It’s like being at university only bellhops in bold red coats are shimmying around and I don’t have to ration my baked beans (“Our breakfast in bed was like something out of Downtown Abbey,” one guest insists).
A Ladies Pamper Party delivers sorority-style camaraderie in the wellness zone, where Queen Anne’s spa director doubles as a stand-up comedian, teaching us how to “put the juice back in the grape” while dispensing dollops of Elemis to slather on our faces. (It’s actually a super way to bag some freebies, although “kissable lips” are only by way of alarmingly expensive treatments).
I finally switch pedagogy for pampering in the Aqua Therapy Centre: I float like a piece of simmering pasta in the massage pool [below, left], the starry ceiling above prettily resembling the night sky it’s too cold to go outside and admire, before channelling my inner Ariel in the blue and green-tiled steam room. In the right light the colours transform into iridescent mermaid scales – and the neighbouring Himalayan salt sauna [below, centre] makes us all look overlaid with an Instagram filter.
I am decidedly less photogenic as I brave the bucket shower. “You go,” encourages a man too afraid to try himself. I pull the chain and squeal as the freezing water splashes at full tilt onto my scalp. Emboldened I go one step further and exfoliate my face with ice in the cold room. I know what I’ve done today to make myself feel proud.
The same feeling triumphs when I awake pre-dawn to sample a spin class – I take a wrong turn outside and am buffeted in the darkness by bracing North Sea winds, oil tankers glittering in the distance like slumbering skyscrapers. Well, I’ve woken up at least. When I make it to the gym [below, left], a handsome instructor and gleaming Technogym equipment await (“They’re the best spin bikes I’ve ever seen!” a passenger confides). Unfortunately, the music system is on the blink so it’s lounge tunes not high-energy beats and our trainer’s motivational patter is sorely lacking for an early morning workout. Perhaps I’ll just dance harder at the disco later – at least here, unlike uni, the walk home is delightfully short.
My ensuing deep tissue massage is more rewarding; there’s none of that ghastly pre-amble nonsense – the therapist goes straight for knotted tension I wasn’t aware of – before a free skin analysis also, kindly, reveals other surprises: sun damage, oiliness, pores the size of a ship’s aft. Some lessons are best left unlearned…
I soothe my ailing epidermis from the inside at Queen Anne’s wellness café [above, right], quaffing ginger and cayenne pepper shots like I’m Beyoncé on that diet alongside a virtuous-sounding five-grain date and tamarind bowl. Overlooking the main pool I watch fellow holidaymakers wallow in whirlpools among the blue and white chessboard deck with a faint air of smugness as I hoover my hemp. They don’t need to know about the cheese trolley I attacked at dinner yesterday… or the inroads I’ll later make into the biggest Japanese sake collection at sea.
Another retreat can be found in the library – a room of requirement I love stumbling across whenever I’m onboard a ship. This one even comes with a librarian and proves surprisingly popular on embarkation day as people flick through newspapers, glossy hardbacks and…catch forty winks. Livelier Cunard regulars greet each other in the hallway with the same enthusiasm as a reunion – “You’re here!”, “Look who it is!” – providing a perfect snapshot of the collegiate community a cruise can foster. “When you’re in your thirties everybody says ‘Go skiing,’ and in your fifties they all say, ‘Go cruising!’” a man by the history section explains to me.
Perhaps they’ve heard of the pool toy spanking on offer in the nightly cabaret.
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Harriet Mallinson is Editor of Sailawaze and an award-winning cruise and travel journalist with 10 years of experience. Named Specialist Travel Writer of the Year at the 2024 Travel Media Awards for her cruise coverage, she writes about cruise ships, destinations, travel trends and life at sea. Her adventures have taken her from flyboarding in Malaga and ziplining in Costa Rica to truffle-hunting in Tuscany and whale-watching in Iceland. After finally ticking off the Northern Lights in Sweden, she’s now dreaming of Antarctica or French Polynesia.
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