“It’s gotta be the hour-long Swedish massage, right?” I had asked my wife two weeks earlier while reviewing the itinerary, somewhat clueless as to how unbearable my new pampered-for-pay lifestyle had already made me. “Or I could do the Thai herbal poultice massage, but I don’t want to get too frou-frou. I see myself as more of a man of the people.”
Side note: In retrospect, the level of obnoxiousness would have been grossly amplified by the fact I had invited an old mate from the United States to join me rather than designating my spouse as my plus-one. We couldn’t just drop the kids on a doorstep and both leave the country, we agreed – me perhaps more than her.
The Star Princess, now on its maiden season in Alaska, is the newest and shiniest jewel in the Princess Cruises fleet. Photo / Princess Cruises
“That’s boring,” she bluntly interjected as I droned on, extolling the therapeutic wisdom of the Swedes.
Under normal circumstances, I like to think I would have noticed the glint of mischievousness in her eyes. But my mind had been dulled by days of gravy train daydreaming.
“You’ve got to think about the audience,” she explained. “No one wants to read about a massage.”
A low-down, dastardly move bringing the reader into it, I muttered. But she might have had a point. I reluctantly dragged my finger down the other options on the list. Megawhite® teeth treatment for US$199. Men’s ultimate shave package for $179. A personal training triple session for $249.
“How about acupuncture? You’ve never done that before,” she suggested. “And you could ask for the facial rejuvenation add-on. With your 49th birthday next month, it couldn’t hurt.”
Heated concrete lounge chairs are among the features at the Enclave, an exclusive spa aboard the Star Princess cruise ship. Photo / Star Princess
At US$238, it was $61 less than both the thousand flowers detox wrap and an hour in the IV lounge (injection choices include hydrate, slim or glow). I’m a simple man with simple pleasures, I reminded myself. And one of those pleasures is finding a bargain, even if I’m not actually paying for it.
So here I was, on what ended up being the choppiest day of an otherwise remarkably smooth journey, nervously dragging my feet to my fate and realising that my wife was probably now at home tapping her fingers together with a maniacal, movie villain laugh. Next time I’ll invite her. Next time it’s the couple’s massage. Swedish, of course. Next time, no revenge trap to fall so easily into.
When I arrived, Dr Ding seemed a bit confused to see me. “No, I don’t have any pain,” I told him. “Just a bit of tiredness, I guess. My job can be stressful.” It was intended as a serious statement, although I now see how silly it sounds in context of the week’s assignment. But he agreed that general well-being was a legitimate reason to be there.
The truth was, I really did need some help. I wondered if I had hit “the wall” – similar to when marathoners’ legs go rubbery in the final stretch of a race as the weight of their ambition starts to come crushing down on them. I was a marathoner too, but of decadence.
Chefs at Umai Teppanyaki, a reservations-only restaurant specialising in Japanese fare on the Star Princess cruise ship, serve double duty as singers and comedians. Photo / Princess Cruises
Princess Cruises are known for catering to foodies, and, for several nights in a row, I had been served course after delicious course at fine dining establishments. Getting the food sweats on rare occasions can make for delightful memories, bookmarking a greatest hits-level meal, but multiple times a week takes a toll. The mid-afternoon siren song of the buffet – where I might have more than once filled my plate with an instantly regrettable combination of cake and hot chips (8550kg of potatoes used on the trip) – certainly didn’t help.
And to be honest, I was probably still a bit hungover from the last night’s wine pairing at Sabatini’s Italian Trattoria, a US$99 extra where the host wanders the restaurant with a microphone explaining the origin of every dish and drink and gives you the misty-eyed look of a lost puppy when you try to break it to him that you couldn’t possibly have another sip.
Well, if you insist. One more glass. For the readers.
Sabatini’s Trattoria on the Star Princess cruise ship offers a story with every course and wine pairing. Photo / Craig Kapitan
I’d started the morning at The Enclave, a self-guided portion of the Lotus Spa where, for a one-day pass, you can submerge yourself in lemon-scented mist, scroll through social media while reclining on heated stone loungers and enjoy the hydrotherapy pool. Robes and cucumber water are complimentary, and staff gently shush you if you harsh the vibe with a voice exceeding a library whisper. I found the dry heat Finnish sauna the most reviving – an immersion into purifying hellfire where I could feel my nose hair singeing and last night’s wine gushing out of my pores.
The sauna put me at least halfway right, on a path of busting through that wall. Now it was up to Dr Ding to take the baton and lead me the rest of the way to the promised land. He instructed me to stick out my tongue and snapped a photo.
“You’re bloated,” he said, comparing it to a tongue chart.
He was right, but it wasn’t the boldest of diagnoses. I’d passed by the buffet on the way there.
The Enclave, an exclusive spa inside the Star Princess cruise ship, features a therapy chamber designed to simulate a salt cave. The thermal suite is said to alleviate respiratory issues and promote deep relaxation. Photo / Princess Cruises
“Take off your shirt and your shoes,” he said, placing needles first in my abnormally stretched belly, then in my shins and hands, before turning his attention to my face. Three in the forehead, two in the temples, a few more in the cheeks, but none in the crow’s feet that I thought needed the most tightening. My expertise is confined to opulent consumption, though, so I kept my mouth shut about that and let the man do his job.
He put one final one at the top of my head, with an off-hand comment: “Oh look, your hair is starting to thin.” I hadn’t ticked off anxiety as one of my ailments. Now I wish I had.
Despite the hair alarm, my main worries were allayed. His hands were deft, and, most importantly, he seemed to have rock-steady sea legs. There were no “oopsie” moments with a rocking boat and errant needles that I had feared. He dimmed the lights and instructed me to take a nap. Now there’s a doctor’s order I could follow, succumbing to a blend of relaxation and the onset of another hot-chips-induced food coma.
Later that evening, none of the shipmates I had befriended on the trip stopped in their tracks to tell me I looked 10 years younger after my facial rejuvenation. That was disappointing. But I’ve got to be fair. Results were probably negated to an extent by the Premium drink package, which I may have over-indulged again as I repeatedly solicited from my travel writer compatriots their opinions of my thinning hair during another night of four courses and post-dinner carousing among the Star Princess’s more than 15 watering holes.
A wandering magician entertains revellers at Star Princess cruise ship’s Spellbound bar, which has a US$45 cover charge that includes two magic-themed cocktails. Photo / Princess Cruises
They had their own trivial discomforts to worry about and didn’t offer much feedback.
A musician finessed a grand piano nearby as we recapped with a level of absurd earnestness the trials and tribulations of a busy work day in which each one of us did very close to absolutely nothing. What we needed was a violin. A very tiny one to serenade Alaska’s most unsympathetic victims of indulgence.
DETAILS
Seven-day Inside Passage Alaskan voyage (Seattle round-trip) on Star Princess.
New Zealand Herald Travel travelled via Princess Cruises.