The Costa Concordia

The Costa Concordia.












   The cruise ship Costa Concordia is an exercise in excess: 120,000 tonnes, 951 feet long, and takes 3700 guests which seem to be absorbed by the vastness of the ship such that at any one time there only ever seem to be a few hundred people on board in total. And the list of abundance goes on; 3 swimming pools, 5 jacuzzis, 6 restaurants, 13 bars, a 3 storey auditorium, a disco, a tennis court, an art gallery, a beauty salon, and all of it decorated in Vegas-style glitz. But wait! There's more! So much more in fact that we stumble upon new places every day. It's totally understandable of course; how on earth could you enjoy cruising through the gorgeous clear weather and spectacular blue seas of the Med unless you're deep in the bowels of the vessel gambling in the casino, or drinking at a bar, or buying a handbag in the store, etc, etc...The patrons generally seem to be the types for whom the idea of a holiday is being waited on hand and foot, fed meal after meal, and generally being treated like children and told what to do and where to go and yes, thank you, your visa card will do just fine. The cruise is a floating cross between a retirement village, fat camp, and a mental institution, filled to the brim with all sorts of rubbish to occupy your mind and empty your wallet.

   That being said I'm not averse to dinner out every night and being served breakfast in my cabin. And we do stop at 8 different ports on this trip and shore leave is a must in this madhouse, although many people choose to stay on board while we're in harbour. Some of the places, such as Turkey or Eygpt are so much nicer for seeing, knowing that you'll have a wonderfully cosy place to rest your head at night instead of a dodgy fleapit which would probably be the order of the day were we visiting by land or air. And after rushing around Ireland and England and scrambling to find trains and organise sleeping arrangements it's a relief to have everything - food, transport, accomodation - organised for us.


Our first port of call is the Italian town of Savona. We get a lovely view of the places we dock at because the ship rises about 13 stories out of the water. We both wonder how the ship maintains its upright position with so much weight so high in the air. Presumably some engineers have it all figured out, but I hope it's not the same crowd that declared the Titanic unsinkable.
Sometimes it's handy to be staying on a city-dwarfing behemoth. I was wandering around Savona, looking for my way home and turned a corner to meet this view. The only downside is that despite looking so close, the ship was still a fair ways off across a major road and on the other side of the harbour.










We went for a wander around Savona, Rome's seaport and a classic little Italian town, centuries old and abounding with narrow, winding cobblestone streets and ancient ruins around every corner.This time of year is off-season and the town is sleepier than normal and it took me some time to find a place to have my obligatory coffee. The streets here abound with motorbikes, predominantly scooters, although Rach tells me this is nothing compared to Rome. I can't wait.


One of the no-go zones (no-go for Rach and myself anyway) in the ship is 'noiseland', the forward swimming pool area. Screaming kids, blaring music, and a huge LED cinema screen. At least it keeps the people who enjoy this stuff in one place.
A much more refined part of the ship is the rear pool - this is with the retractable roof drawn back. In true European style you're allowed to wander around here topless, although I have yet to see anyone actually doing so (dammit!). Rach is sunning herself in the bottom left of the picture.
The theatre seats 1500 people in comfort - enough room for a drinks table at every seat. We watched a magician doing his stuff here; card tricks, escaping from chains, and making gorgeous women appear from nowhere. Great fun.