Y Viva Espana.

Y Viva Espana.

Ah yes my friends. What an experience and what a journey. We knew we'd enjoy it and we certainly did. This is the time of the year when most of us shut the door on the outside world, huddle around the TV, pull on our favourite pullovers, switch on the central heating or just throw a couple of logs onto a roaring wintry fire. We prepare our hot toddies, rubbing our hands together for even greater warmth in case the temperature drops to below -50 degrees and then discover that winter has reached out to us and given us a sharp bite on every part of our body.

But some of us were fortunate to be on the high seas for a relaxing cruise around the Canary Islands. We would spend the entire week sailing smoothly across the Atlantic, seeking escapism and finding that a certain detachment from routine can do you the world of good. Good friends had always waxed lyrical about the pleasures of cruising and it had to be said that this was indeed the epitome of luxury living.

After flying in from Tenerife airport we embarked on the kind of nautical adventure that would have been considered unthinkable for some of us. We were the ones who had become conditioned to those very early 1970s holiday package deals to the Costa Brava, Majorca and Benidorm as if we were the ultimate pioneers, the trendsetters if you like.

 But now 40 years later families all over Britain and the rest of the world have been converted. The plane used to take the strain- and still does in a majority of cases. Now the boat, ship or, so our estimable captain told us, the vessel is the preferred choice of travel. Nowadays we think nothing of jumping aboard that majestic vessel, splicing the main brace, knocking back huge quantities of rum and thinking of pirates.

On a serious and more up to date note though, a cruise around the Gran Canaria was hugely enjoyable, naturally rewarding and the most fun you can have in the middle of an ocean. For most of the expedition the Atlantic did generally behave itself but there were times when it didn't,  a rocky, bumpy, churning and often boiling sea that frequently felt as if the boat itself was ever so slightly drunk. We swayed from side to side, lurching around on deck rather like one of those 17th century sailors who'd imbibed rather too many glasses of beer for their own good.

Our first stop was Santa Cruz de La Palma, a gentle introduction into our first day of our cruise. After stepping off the gangplank, we took a slow, meandering stroll along the harbour front where all manner of wealthy looking boats bobbed thoughtfully on a sparkling day of sunshine. We didn't really enough time to see the most that La Palma had to offer and my wife kept insisting that we head for the old town. Still, it was just good to be in a country where the weather was a considerable improvement on Britain.

The shops, restaurants and cafes were of course an irresistible attraction. There was that very cool alfresco atmosphere that most European cities seemed to have made their own. People would sit outside the aforesaid establishment, sunglasses perched easily on the bridge of their noses and watching the rest of cafe society around them.

A brief rush around the local souvenir shops yielded a couple of necklaces for our wonderful daughter, T-shirts for the boys, trinkets galore and a whole collection of fridge magnets, bags and much more memorabilia for the groaning shelves in your home. There was a quick cappuccino to be savoured at our leisure and then the short trip back to the Marella Explorer, our hardy vessel as the captain would have put it quite charmingly.

Back on board we would walk endlessly along those plush red carpets that seemed to go on for miles, winding our way through a giddy network of piano bars, jewellery shops, a library and a Games Zone where doubtlessly the youngsters on board could indulge in their high tech world of computer games.

Then there were the mouth watering restaurants with their very unique set of global dishes and menus. There was a restaurant called the Latitude with an Italian theme. There was another very grand looking restaurant that was a definite throwback to another era, chandeliers hanging stylishly from the ceiling, waiters and waitresses smiling permanently while all around us elegance reigned.

On one of the decks a gambling casino seemed to be open for what looked like the entire evening and through the night. For the more daring of the passengers there was Black Jack, a game where only the more intrepid souls would even dare to venture. A formally dressed woman in shirt and waistcoat furiously shuffled her deck of cards with a very knowing look on her face. Then the cards seemed to spill out of her band almost apologetically as if acutely aware that she was simply calling everybody's bluff.

All around us though was the sound of soft music piping soothingly across the whole of the vessel. It was like being serenaded all the time by the sound of something that you'd have liked to listen to all day and all night but were never sure why it was there. Of course we could feel that definitive romance and glamour wherever we went and there was an air of 1920s decadence about the Marella Explorer.

 Back then the upper classes would have disdainfully ignored the lower classes because they quite clearly felt the lower classes were beneath them. Now over 90 years later the passengers of 2019 were playing cards, reading books and chatting with each other quite casually as if the class divide had never existed. They sat back on their sun loungers wind whipping up and gathering force but they were nonetheless happy to be in each other's company.

Now it was that we were afforded yet another day of rest and relaxation at sea without stopping at all. Not a great deal happened and most of our day out at sea was spent wandering and sauntering around the port and starboard side, breathing in great gulps of the invigorating air. For a while we took in a few fleeting shafts of sunlight but the gusts were forever blowing up, determined to stamp their authority on the cruise.

It was now full steam ahead for Funchal, Madeira on the Portuguese coast for a spot of dolphin and whale watching. Following some very valuable de-briefing we were told what to look out for and what not to do. Pulling on our orange life jackets and climbing very gingerly into our speedboat our guides for the morning gave us chapter and verse on those delightfully sociable and playful mammals.

However we were not prepared for just how fast this speedboat would prove to be. Strapping myself onto one side of the boat you were sprayed with innumerable buckets of sea water. Immediately you clambered to the other side of the boat. But then our friendly speedboat put his foot on the accelerator and suddenly we were travelling at lightning speed, bouncing up and down and then slowing down to watch what we were promised would be a memorable watch. Baby dolphins, bluebottle dolphins and whole families of dolphins would be seen playing peek a boo, dorsal fins gliding through the water sedately and then flopping back under the sea again and again. Unfortunately the whales weren't very co-operative and glad to see us so nothing would be seen.

On Thursday we were back on board the Marella Explorer heading for Morocco. You remembered those classic Bob Hope and Bing Crosby movies particularly the one where Hope and Crosby arrive in a Middle East paradise and then sing the praises of Morocco. Now though we were taken to a wonderfully entertaining horse show performed by classically trained horsemen. Galloping together in perfect formation the horses would race across the heavily sanded arena before firing off some of the loudest rifles ever heard.

Our time in Morocco would be complete with some very athletic men performing somersaults and then executing one of those breathtaking manoeuvres where the entire ensemble would climb onto each other's shoulders forming one of the greatest balancing acts while also leaving us gasping with appreciation. We were then regularly plied with sweet tea and equally as sweet cakes before trooping off to the souks of Morocco, indoor markets with all of those mysterious spices and smells of the Middle East.

And then we were on our way home, the Atlantic now swelling up ever so disturbingly high but the memories as fresh as yesterday. There was, above all, the entertainment on board during the evening. Rightly compared to the West End musical and cabaret circuit, every night we were treated to some of the most extraordinary of all musical extravaganzas, dancing and singing of the highest order and quality. By the end of the evening you almost felt as if you'd just left Drury Lane or Shaftesbury Avenue so phenomenally high were the standards.

Finally, we flew back into our London Gatwick airport which still sounds geographically bizarre since Gatwick does seem closer to the Sussex coast than the River Thames. Still, who were we to care? We'd been spoilt something rotten by a caring and attentive crew, a captain of the ship who was warmly humorous and an entertainments officer who came from Canada and just kept on smiling. What more could we possibly have asked?  Oh just in case we needed reminding it was Christmas and seasons greetings were extended to one and all. A life on the ocean wave as somebody once sang.