No, this isn’t part of an ongoing thoughtful discussion about travel writing ethics and whether or not to take paid press trips. This is a rant, of sorts.

I just hate cruises.

More truthfully, I hate the idea of cruises, since I have never actually set foot on a cruise. I haven’t eaten squirrel, hung with the Bush twins, or been on spring break in Cancún, but I have an aversion to them too.

I feel perfectly satisfied going the rest of my life without the cruise experience, which David Foster Wallace writes about in his in Harper’s Bazaar article, “Shipping Out: On the (near) lethal comforts of the luxury cruise ”:

I have now seen sucrose beaches and water a very bright blue. I have seen an all-red leisure suit with flared lapels. I have smelled sun-tan lotion spread over 2,100 pounds of hot flesh. I have been addressed as “Mon” in the three different nations. I have seen 500 upscale Americans dance the Electric Slide. I have seen sunsets that look computer-enhanced. I have (briefly) joined a conga line. I have heard steel drums and eaten conch fritters and watched a woman in silver lamé projectile-vomit inside a glass elevator. I have pointed rhymically at the ceiling to the two-four beat of the same disco music I hated pointing at the ceiling to in 1977…I have heard a professional cruise-ship comedian tell folks, without irony, “But seriously.”

My need for “alone time” and proneness to acute seasickness are just part of the problem for me about cruises. They seem self-indulgent, hiding behind a front of cultural adventure. I’m sure there are probably some perfectly lovely cruises out there. * I just can’t stand the overall back-story (my version) of most cruises: the majority of cruise-goers are stuck in a reactive place in their lives, which extend outwards into their vacation decisions.

David Foster Wallace likens in his article that the luxury cruise is like returning to some primordial, fetus-like state:

Aboard the Nadir, as ringingly foretold in the brochure, you will get to do “something you haven’t done in a long, long time: Absolutely Nothing.” How long has it been since you did Absolutely Nothing? I know exactly how long it’s been for me. I know how long it’s been since I had every need met choicelessly from someplace outside of me, without me having to ask. And that time I was floating, too, and the fluid was warm and salty, and if I was any way conscious I’m sure I was dreadless, and was having a really good time, and would have sent postcards to everyone wishing they were here.

The whole 24 page article by DFW is worth a dedicated read. His observations tickle my funny bone so hard my dog usually starts eyeing me warily, like my belly laughs are directed at her.

My closest cruise-encounters have involved a Dover-Calais ferry crossing of the English Channel (not palatial) and a Helsinki-Tallinn ferry crossing. The soon-to-be Mr. Gnome had the (thoughtful) idea to splurge on first-class tickets for our Gulf of Finland journey to better any seasickness I might have. Cruise-like accoutrements like free beer, wine, and food created a party-like atmosphere for every first-class traveler but myself. Despite Dramamine and a forced-positive attitude, the gluttonous merriment was lost on me and all the pickled herring made me want to hurl all the more.

 At least my ferry experiences were only a couple of hours each. I can’t imagine spending a week (or more) on a real cruise. Of course, live and let live, vacation and let vacation, but I just can’t help but speculate that upon disembarking from said cruise people feel a tinge more discontented and disconnected with the world than when they embarked and that being lulled to sleep by the waves is a double-edged sword.

*I do think  that programs like Semester at Sea or even sweet Alaskan cruises sound pretty badass.

What do you think? What are your experiences with and/or perception of cruises?