6th December 2024

Our stay at the Sheraton Heathrow was surprisingly tranquil. Despite being just a stone’s throw from the runway, we spent the evening watching television with only the faintest rumble of aircraft in the background. We did wonder if the noise might disturb our sleep, but we needn’t have worried. By the time we turned in, the skies had fallen silent, as Heathrow had thoughtfully shut down operations for the night. Thank you, night-time flight curfew.

We woke at 7:30 am, brewed a coffee in the room, and retrieved our suitcases from the car. After a brief sit-down and final document check, we waited outside for the Airport Hopper, which whisked us off, via a whistlestop tour of half the hotels in the Heathrow area, to Terminal 3. The journey took around half an hour and dropped us right outside the Virgin/Delta check-in.

The check-in queue was daunting, but a cheerful staff member was on patrol, checking passports and boarding passes. A spot of light-hearted conversation seemed to work wonders; he smiled, pulled aside the barrier tape, and ushered us straight to desks 2 and 3. Result! Within minutes, our bags were checked, and we were gliding through security, which, for once, was uneventful and quick.

With a hefty three and a half hours to kill in the departure lounge, we found a seat, grabbed a meal deal for breakfast (not bad value, considering), and browsed the internet to pass the time. Our Virgin flight departed promptly at 2 pm and even landed a little ahead of schedule, ten hours later.

Our seats were at the back of the plane, not normally the most sought-after spot, but as the flight was only about half full, we had plenty of room and the option to move. In the end, we stayed put, perfectly content. The in-flight entertainment was top-notch: we both managed two films, decent meals, and even a couple of hours of sleep. Not bad going.

Annoyingly, just as we were preparing to disembark, the aircraft was held on the taxiway for nearly an hour. The plane meant to vacate our gate had suffered a technical glitch and was still parked up, stubborn as ever. Eventually, we were redirected to another gate and towed to a far-flung corner of the airport. Still, disembarkation was smooth, and we were soon breezing through a quiet passport control.

Our mood lifted further when our cases were among the first on the carousel, a small but deeply satisfying moment for any traveller. With luggage in hand, we made our way to the arrivals area, where I was genuinely impressed by the WhatsApp updates from our transfer company. Despite the delay, the driver was easy to locate, and we were soon en route.

It was a 40-minute drive through remarkably light Miami traffic to our hotel, the B Ocean Beach Resort in Fort Lauderdale. Our driver, Juan, a cheerful chap from Venezuela, chatted enthusiastically throughout the journey. Around 10 pm, he dropped us off outside the hotel reception, and before long, we were unpacked, settled in, and preparing to collapse into bed, ready for the Caribbean adventure ahead.

7th December 2024

As expected, our body clocks woke us around 5 am, though we valiantly resisted the urge to get up for at least another hour. It was still dark outside, but from our window we spotted the twinkling lights of a large cruise ship gliding silently into the nearby port, our home for the next leg of the journey.

Around 8 am, we crossed the road and wandered along the beach. It was blissfully quiet, just a young family setting up for a day on the sand, a few dedicated dog walkers, and the usual early-morning joggers and fitness fanatics making the rest of us look lazy. Sue, true to form, scouted the shoreline for interesting shells and added a few more to her growing collection.

Back on the promenade, we strolled northwards, joining a steadily increasing number of beachgoers all making the most of the sunshine. Hotel after hotel lined the coast, each staking its claim to a stretch of sand, patrolled by vigilant lifeguards in elevated towers, scanning the surf with Baywatch-like intensity.

We returned to the hotel in good time to shuffle a few things around in the suitcases, check our documents, and catch up with the news. Sadly, the TV wasn’t exactly a source of joy. Aside from a decent weather forecast, it delivered a relentless stream of grim headlines: shootings, stabbings, hit-and-runs, and murders, all in the local area. It made the UK’s petty thefts and occasional headline of: squirrel falls from tree, seem positively quaint. The contrast was jarring and certainly took the shine off what had been a lovely, peaceful morning stroll.

We checked out of the hotel at 10:30 am and waited in the foyer until our taxi driver, Juan, arrived promptly at 11:00 am. A short 10-minute drive later, we arrived at Port Everglades, where the ‘Nieuw Statendam’, a Holland America ship, was moored alongside six other cruise liners, all vying for attention like glittering giants in a watery showroom.

Boarding took about half an hour, and before long, we were on board, eager to explore our cabin and settle in. Naturally, our first port of call was the buffet restaurant for lunch, only to find it absolutely packed with fellow guests whose appetites rivalled our own.

In a slight departure from the usual self-service, staff served the food from behind the counters. This allowed passengers to dictate just how much, or how little, they wanted on their plates, which was helpful for portion control but less so for the queues, which snaked around every food station. Here’s hoping the lines ease up as the cruise gets underway and the novelty wears off!