Solo traveller on a small cruise: Will I be ostracised or embraced?

Apprehensive about cruising solo?A trip through the Greek islands shows it can lead to adventure and new friendships. Photo / 123rf
As a solo traveller on a cruise ship, are your apprehensions warranted? Ben West jumps aboard a small cruise around the Greek islands to find out if his fears can be turned into fun.
As well as allowing you to do exactly what you want, solitary travelling can open up opportunities couples and groups are a lot less likely to experience. You are much more approachable and therefore are more likely to strike up a conversation with locals.
This may lead to an interesting chat over a drink in a bar, being invited to a meal at their home, them taking you on an excursion the next day, or simply giving you information and insights that you’re not going to find online or in guidebooks.
But travelling solo on a small cruise around the Greek islands? That’s a different matter. Docking at sun-kissed Santorini, with its gorgeous whitewashed domed cave homes, or at Mykonos, with its plethora of lively bars and restaurants, or a succession of other beautiful Greek islands with enticing beaches and secluded bays – well, that’s invariably going to attract couples, perhaps on honeymoon or celebrating anniversaries, and maybe a few groups of cliquey friends.
So I was a bit apprehensive to be a solo traveller joining this cruise. Would I be surrounded by lots of canoodling couples and left on my own? Would anyone talk to me at dinner? Or would it be incredibly sociable?
The cruise I took was titled the Jewels of the Cyclades, with Variety Cruises. It would visit islands including Poros, Poliegos, Folegandros, Paros, Antiparos, Syros, Kythnos, Santorini, Mykonos and Delos, a mixture of the most well known with some far less visited islands.
READ MORE: 5 reasons why travelling solo without your family is beneficial
The vessel, Galileo, was a mega-yacht with old-style beauty, graced with sails (although these were not used) and attractive wood-panelled lounges. There were 32 guests the week I went – the boat’s maximum capacity is 49 – and they were a surprisingly international bunch. There were passengers from the UK, Australia, New Zealand, Germany, the Netherlands, Canada, France, Italy, Spain, Mexico, plus Texas and California in the US. Additionally, the crew were from Malaysia, Indonesia, Bali and Greece.
We all gathered at the onset of the cruise to meet the captain and crew and have a safety briefing. This was possibly the first chance to mingle, but everyone was preoccupied with becoming familiar with the boat and its workings and very much kept to themselves. There was a family with a couple of teenage kids and a woman with her two young girls, but mainly the passengers were aged from around 40 to 70, generally in couples.
The first night we all got to know some of the other passengers, those sitting near us on communal tables where we had dinner. I was grateful that there wasn’t a formal seating plan and that I would be able to easily change places at meals during the week: one of the first couples I talked to soon revealed their racist views and so I made a mental note to avoid them for the rest of the trip.
I got talking easily with others that night. No doubt being on a small ship rather than a huge, impersonal one, made it easier to get to know people. I talked to a Dutch passenger who had tried a cruise in a huge ship, one of those multi-storeys on the seas, and hated it.
“I’m never doing that again,” he said. “There were 6000 people on board and every time we disembarked there were loads of coaches and taxis, and queues the whole time for everything. It was just too much.”
I got talking to a woman who had been on eight Variety cruises in the last nine years. She was a widower, and clearly the familiarity and camaraderie of these small cruises caused her to repeat the experience again and again.
For many years I’d not really seen the attraction of cruising, yet when darkness fell and everyone had retired to their cabins on the first night I got an idea of why it is so popular. I stood on deck and the view to sea was pitch black, except for a bank of glittering lights behind us, on one of the islands. There were occasional lights from boats passing in the distance, and this coupled with the gentle waves and so many bright stars in the sky above, the gentle hum of the motors, and the slight rock of the boat from side to side, lured me into a magical reverie.
But this state was abruptly broken when, looking at the huge expanse of darkness around me, I then reflected on the profound dangers of the sea. Looking down from the deck triggered a thought of the blind terror of falling into the absolute blackness of the mighty Aegean.
There were daily organised opportunities for passengers to socialise throughout the week. One night there was traditional Greek dancing for passengers to take part in – and I ran a mile (well, hid in my cabin) as it was the last thing I wanted to do. But I reappeared later when it was safe to do so and I knew I’d not be yanked onto the dance floor, and by then – after a couple of shots of ouzo had livened everyone up – nearly all the passengers were dancing on the sun deck and a real party atmosphere had been created.
It was great to visit such a variety of islands each day. A gorgeous little cove on the uninhabited island of Poliegos was particularly lovely. As we lounged on the sand or did a spot of snorkelling, we were watched over by mountain goats standing grandly on nearby rocks.
That night a lot of the passengers let their hair down again, with the combination of free cocktails, some traditional Greek live music and then a disco fuelling them. It was interesting to observe the differences between the nationalities: the Spanish contingent were the real party animals, singing and dancing at every opportunity, with the English, New Zealanders, Australians and Americans more likely to take longer to warm up, starting the night standing on the perimeter of the dance floor with a drink in hand.
Folegandros was my favourite island we visited. Very laid back, it is not overwhelmed by tourism but instead has the feel of a Greek island from years gone by that many of us yearn for. It’s a great spot to people-watch at a sleepy taverna.
As the week progressed people were bonding more and more, and a couple of nights a number of us talked into the early hours about the things that really matter, such as the challenges of relationships, families and parenting, climate change, international politics – and who likes Crowded House or the Flight of the Conchords. Because passengers came from all over the world you got an extra perspective on everything.
After a couple of days, I’d established a group I was hanging out with most, and had a choice to join some of them on excursions, or could just explore the different islands on my own if I preferred. A group of us explored Delos, an extensive archaeological site and Unesco World Heritage Site. Our guide explained how the ancient statues we saw around us were an ancient form of Photoshop: if you commissioned a statue of yourself in those ancient times your sculptor would chisel out an especially fit body for your statue and plonk your head on it.
Of course, if you are looking for romance, cruise ships also provide an ideal environment, due to there being such a relaxed atmosphere, the beautiful ever-changing locations, the free-flowing alcohol, and numerous social activities.
When we had a stop for a couple of hours at a beautiful bay at Antiparos, I got talking to the woman who had brought her two daughters. She was quite recently divorced. We got on well, and perhaps if life circumstances were different we’d become close.
But I left the cruise having made some new friends, with plenty of laughs along the way.
varietycruises.com