Ballroom dancing, between 6 and 7pm in the Rolling Stones Lounge, catches us by surprise. We’re exploring the ship, familiarising ourselves and, drawn to the music, find the dancers.
They are couples in their 40s, 50s, 60s, just a handful of them, taking a turn around the floor. Other people watch so we sit, too, and let our hearts be warmed by the scene. For many of these couples, this cruise would be their chance to spend time together. As well as experiencing new places and having every possible need taken care of, they are revelling in special, focused time together. What other holiday would accommodate a love for ballroom dancing every evening?
For other passengers it’s other forms of dance, fitness classes, art classes, mahjong, wine tasting. Some will spend hours reading, watching movies, indulging in spa time, tracking the journey of the ship as she moves through the Taiwan Strait – 650 nautical miles from Hong Kong, another 250 to Shanghai, up the Yangtze River – before heading to Japan.
Impressive architecture in central Fukuoka. Photo by Kath Webster.
According to the mats inside the lifts that are changed each day so we can keep track, today is Monday. That makes it day three of a 14-day cruise aboard MS Westerdam, one of the Holland America Cruise Line’s fleet, a big ship with around 2,000 passengers. I was a bit worried about the size of it; would it feel impersonal, crowded, unwieldy? No. It’s a good mix of privacy, splendour, intrigue and comfort.
In Shanghai, the cold seeps into our bones. The sky is close; it’s winter here. As this is our first time in Shanghai, the friend I’m travelling with and I opt to join a shore excursion. There are several to choose from; we go for an introduction to the city that takes us by coach to an excellent museum and then to a touristy but beautiful heritage village with a classical traditional Chinese garden; gnarly-limbed trees, rocky shrines, carvings of dragons and bridges reflected in water. We meander for a couple of hours, there and in the surrounding shops, buying silk scarves.
Cold, we decide to head ‘home’ and catch a shuttle back to the ship. While it is thrilling and exciting to be in a new city, it's also exhausting, and is a relief to climb the ship's gangway.
The onboard exploration continues: the library is excellent, and I just know I will sit in the art-laden Gallery Bar with a book and a red wine at some point. The spa is a beautiful area – all gleaming tiles and nurturing perfumes. We’re tempted by hot rocks, seaweed wraps and steam room treatments. Now is the time to do such things, to take such treats. When else does anyone have time to have pedicures or acupuncture?
Other things to indulge in, if that’s the word, are pilates and yoga classes in the fitness centre, along with lifestyle consultancy. Now’s the time. Finish the cruise looking ten years younger!
Shanghai is so cold, we can’t bear to stand in the breeze of the aft deck as the ship departs, so we sit in the bubbling hot tub to watch the city lights disappear. We don’t take for granted the decadence of this; every such special moment is noted, gratefully. ‘Can you believe this?’ we ask each other. We’re sitting in a spa, on a ship, leaving Shanghai!
Departing Hong Kong had been even more magical, because it was the beginning of the adventure. Also, Hong Kong has the most skyscrapers of any city in the world, so it was a gloriously lit-up, a sparkly diamond wonderworld of earth-bound stars caught in boxes.
Food on display in Japan. Photo by Kath Webster.
On a day at sea between Shanghai and the first port in Japan, we attend a lecture about the customs of Japan and another about the history of Korea. Port talks, which describe the basics of the places we are visiting, how the trains work, and where money can be exchanged, prepare us for some independent explorations. While there are always lots of tempting shore excursions available, choosing to explore independently is supported with shuttles and advice. And all the potential stress of immigration is cared for, too; everything is explained and organised in advance.
I walk four times around one of the open decks, clocking up a couple of kilometres to enjoy the evening light on the never-ending ocean as the sun slides toward the horizon. It’s been a smooth sail, so far, with very little wobble underfoot. A small flock of gulls has followed the ship from China. Occasionally there’s a freighter in the distance, otherwise it’s just us out here, a small town afloat by magic and ploughing through the day and the night, and another day to the next place.
Kagoshima, on Kyushu Island, is bathed in sunshine. Excited to finally be in Japan, we stride out and with a little local help, sort some cash from a machine in a Seven 11, then navigate the bus system to visit Senganen Garden. Across the harbour looms Sakurajima, an active volcano complete with a steady plume of smoke from its peak. Young newlyweds pose for photographs in the gardens. They’re wearing traditional clothes and hold cat masks to their faces.
Before reboarding the ship we walk around a harbourside park where people photograph the ship and, as we go to board, people are waving. A young woman is even fake-crying. There is a performance as we leave – a drummer and singing dancer on a small stage; as the ship pulls away, locals call ‘bye, bye!’
For a treat, we go to the Pinnacle Grill for dinner. Three courses at a set price include massive shrimps, scallops, crème brûlée; it’s a fine dining experience, in a quiet and sophisticated setting. We’re more in the casual camp than the formal, so opt most evenings for the Lido Market buffet where we get poke bowls, salads, curries, pizzas and pastas. I appreciate not having to dress up for every meal, but have bought some posh frocks for the occasional evening and watch as spangles and sequins swish by toward the specialty restaurants.
A magician entertains guests in the main auditorium; he’s an award-winner in the UK and blows our socks off with his mind-reading and his ability to make solid objects disappear as well as his magical, flying table. We didn’t expect to be impressed but we sure are.
In Nagasaki, we wander historic streets, explore intriguing stores and eat at a small street stall, managing to place orders through sign language and Google Translate. Pretty, friendly Nagasaki was the second city, after Hiroshima, to have a nuclear bomb dropped on it at the end of WWII; there are museums and public markers remembering that horror.
Finding serenity in a Japanese garden. Photo by Kath Webster.
Overnight, the ship sails to Busan in South Korea, the country’s second-largest city, a great sprawling, modern place of towering glass and steel catching the morning sun as we arrive. Yongdusan Park has a tall, thin tower spiking into a cloudless sky. It is worth the few dollars to ride the lift for incredible views over the city and the harbour, to take in the magnificent bridges, the open sea dotted with waiting ships.
We visit the art museum to learn a little more of this country’s complicated and harried history. A Buddhist temple is open for a quick, respectful visit. Then we stumble into a knot of market streets, busy with life, with people selling all sorts including fake branded products, masses of clothes, coloured lights.
Within minutes of getting off the shuttle in the centre of Fukuoka, we are attracted to a building with huge steps covered in trees. We climb, zig zagging past massive planter boxes, up the side of a multi-storied building. A curved glass atrium rises high above the roof – which we eventually get to – finding there a small garden and an observatory.
Next we find a park next to a tidal river with cycle lanes, shading trees, cafés. We cross a couple of bridges and keep going until we come to Hakata Station – where it is time to get our courage on. Having missed out on a shore excursion to experience the famous bullet train, we’ve decided to do it anyway. A staff member at the info centre inside the station is, as always in Japan, super helpful. She explains the system, points out where to go; the ticketing machines have English options and soon we are onboard and on the way to nearby Kakura. It isn’t a long trip – maybe 20 minutes – but it is thrilling.
Himeji Castle was designed to resemble white herons in flight. Photo by Kath Webster.
Next on the ship’s itinerary is Himeji, famous for its beautiful white castle, reminiscent of herons in flights with elegantly sweeping rooflines. Inside is rich in wood, floorboards smooth from years of hurried walks along the long gallery, generations of people stepping into the small rooms opening off it, all with views of the castle gates. These rooms would have been used for defense – stone throwing, arrow shooting – if the castle had ever come under siege, which it didn’t.
From the main part of the castle we climb up and up steep, very narrow stairs. The town spreads out below and behind the castle walls are intriguing gardens. Here, we find ancient bonsai, bamboo and pine tree gardens, and another featuring a lake dotted with bright orange carp, leafy reflections, a waterfall, bridges and stone paths around mossy pockets.
On the way back toward the town centre we venture into a tiny dumpling kitchen, ducking under the bunting at the door. Two smiley young men work around each other, pinching casing around portions of filling, popping dumplings into hot water, shifting them onto a hot plate for a quick fry before serving them. Eight each for around $5NZD. Delicious.
Back on board, a Taiko drumming group entertains from the pier; a couple of characters, one dressed as a duckling, the other as an egg, bob along to the rhythm.
To get to Himeji, we spend another day at sea, sailing through the Kammon Straits, between islands of Kyushu and Honshu under a huge bridge, into the Inland Sea before heading back out to the Pacific Ocean.
Having attended another lecture about Japanese culture and history, and noted the highlights of the port talk, we are amped for Osaka. A big, vibrant and busy city, we negotiate local trains to get to a giant, crowded inner-city mall where the energy is high. World-famous brands are on street level; we find shops more interesting to us on levels above. Then we make our way back to port to queue for a massive ferris wheel set right next to where the Westerdam is moored. The slow ride carries us high above the city and gives us a bird’s-eye view of our ship.
Sailing between Osaka and Shimizu is a bit rough. While the rolling motion doesn’t disturb our sleep too much, the change in weather puts a serious question mark over whether we will see Mt Fuji.
The iconic shape of Mount Fuji. Photo by Kath Webster.
At dawn, I push hard against our veranda door, fighting a strong wind. It is very cold and overcast, but not heavily so. Leaning forward for a better view of the land we are passing, there it is! In absolute glory, the sun just tingeing its flank, the famous mountain. As the sun rises, the light changes, its angles and shades shifting with time. Thrilled, we join other passengers on various decks, all clicking, clicking, clicking photos.
Shimizu is the port near Yokohama, and that’s where the Westerdam ties up later that morning. It’s famous with tourists for its views of Mt Fuji. Interested in the associated art created in honour of the mountain, we decide to visit the museum of Utagawa Himeshige, named after an artist from the Edo period, famous for woodcut prints of the region. Images of waves, rain, tiny figures dressed in kimono and wooden sandals, the famous pointy mountain – these are what we want to see.
By now familiar with Japanese rail, we take a local train to the tiny town of Yui, flag down a taxi, and find the museum. Although easy on paper, if a kind train driver hadn’t checked the destination details on our tickets, we may not have made it. But we do. It feels quite an accomplishment and the museum itself is wonderful, with displays explaining the print process, featuring tools and modern renditions, as well as lots of original artworks.
It is our last night on board. To celebrate, to commiserate, to mark the end of the journey, we splash out on a special Taste of Tamarind meal, another memorable culinary experience.
In Tokyo, we have to leave our cabin. We must join the throng of departing passengers, follow instructions to the coach where our luggage is waiting, submit to being ejected into a new place without someone to explain. Of course, we manage – and enjoy – the following days in that vibrant, stimulating, overwhelming city – but we’d been so spoiled on board Westerdam, it is a bit of a shock.
Story by Kath Webster for the Spring 2024 issue of AA Directions Magazine. Kath Webster is the Editor of AA Directions magazine.
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