There are trips you remember for where you went and what you did.
And then there are trips you remember by moments that quietly rewire how you experience the world.
My transatlantic crossing was all I had hoped for and more. Despite my transgressive hope that the connection to the world and the internet wouldn’t work (it did, so well that I could do video calls), I still managed to downshift and exist in a new way.
These were ten standout moments from my two weeks aboard the Silversea Silver Ray in March, a trip to mark my 60th birthday.
1 || Waking Inside a Dream
I always woke early and peeked out my curtain to see what the world looked like.
One morning appeared like a gateway to heaven. The sight spellbound me.
I saw an ocean as smooth as glass with rain clouds so low they erased the horizon.
That morning, there was no separation between sea and sky.
It didn’t feel real, it didn’t feel earthly, and it moved me to tears.
2 || When Time Lost Its Edges
Crossing east, my phone stopped updating. There are no cell towers in the middle of the ocean, so your phone does not automatically update the time. It took me more than a beat to realize this.
Out there, time was wiggly and slippery. Time zones blurred. Nothing aligned. At one point, I had to set up a meeting between the East Coast of the US, Italy, and me, wherever I was.
And slowly, I stopped trying to track it. And time became freer and more elastic.
I moved by instinct rather than by schedule, only checking the time when I wanted to show up for one of the many activities on board.
3 || A Bottle Meant to Last
A bottle of Dom Pérignon Rosé 2009, ordered on my very first night. I drank my first sip as I watched the land of Florida recede in the west as we embarked East. And I couldn’t have been more excited.
The champagne was finished in celebration, and not on my birthday six days later, but stretched fully across two weeks.
A glass here, another there.
A ritual of return.
4 || Dinner with the Captain
My trip preparations exhausted me. I only learned there was room aboard for me ten days before embarkation. So I missed the invitation to dine with the Chief Engineer on my second night aboard. I was so keen because the Silver Ray is a very special ship, equipped with the latest technology and environmental safeguards.
But I just could not. I had to sleep.
So shyly I asked if I could have a rain check. This time at the Captain’s table. I did the bridge tour, which I highly recommend, and Captain Giovanni Schiaffino told compelling stories and explained everything so well.
I got an invitation to dine with him the next evening. An unplanned evening. A real conversation. And it was just me, so I could ask away! And trust me, I did.
I got real insight and information.
I asked if sea captains could perform weddings, and that was affirmed. He even shared the story of a birth at sea. Imagine!
The affection he engenders from the crew impressed me as well.
Responsibility, judgment, and the quiet weight of command at sea define Captain Schiaffino. And he tells such entertaining and engaging tales!
5 || The Grand Slam
My mother was a bridge player, and regrettably, I never learned before she died twenty years ago. We played other card games, most of all Pinochle. But not Bridge.
So I was keen to learn, in honor of her and my birthday, and every day I attended the onboard bridge lesson with Teresa.
On the first day, completely befuddled, I said to her, “You’re speaking Greek to me.”
I’m still learning bridge. I will be learning to bid properly for quite a while. She called me a bidding fool. But bidding in Pinochle is very different, in my defense!
And then, suddenly, one morning, one hand — every trick. Yes, every. Single. One.
A grand slam.
The kind of moment where something clicks faster than it should. I took a photo of the scorecard, and yes, I got emotional and felt very sad that I couldn’t call my mom to tell her.
6 || Music, Perfectly Measured
Before playing Liszt, Rustem Hayroudinoff framed the piece in a way that sharpened everyone’s attention. He explained that Liszt’s Liebesträume are based on three kinds of love—sacred (religious), erotic, and mature, unconditional love—and then posed a simple question: Which kind of love do you think this one represents? He left it there and began to play for us to listen to and consider.
Afterward, he surveyed us, and we all felt the same: everlasting. It was Liszt’s Liebestraum No. 3, and we were correct. I’m very familiar with that piece, but I never knew the background! That was marvelous!
It was just a 45-minute concert that understood restraint. With informative commentary woven between, the music invited us in, and even this lover of classical music learned something new.
7 || Heat, Stillness, Horizon
The spa on the ship was as lovely and excellent as any five-star hotel. The decor was peaceful and classic. I enjoyed three massages while aboard, and I very much appreciated having the same therapist for all of them as she got to know my body’s needs.
But the most extraordinary part was after the massage. I stepped into the sauna, and wow. One whole wall was windows looking out at the open sea. And absorbing the heat, and taking in that view, the sea rocked me like I was in a wooden cradle.
It was magnificent.
The kind of reset you don’t realize you need until your body lets go.
8 || A Birthday, Scored by Saxophone
For my birthday, on the recommendation of the restaurant on board, I reserved a seat at the S.A.L.T. table. That stands for Sea and Land Taste. The chef took us through 11 tasting courses, all based on the flavors of the Americas. It was an adventurous trip in itself. And I’m not usually adventurous when it comes to food!
But what a special night. By the end of this warm and engaging evening, I had new friends. While we waited to go through immigration, a couple remarked to me that the evening, which also marked my birthday, made it extra special for them.
It was a gorgeous open kitchen on the tenth deck, and the chef held the room in rhythm.
At the end, a saxophonist played Happy Birthday for me as I was presented with a special cake that reminded me of my grandfather.
Dinner turned out not only to be full of sensational and unusual flavors but also to be something truly cinematic. It’s a night I will always remember.
9 || Choosing to Witness Departure
I was on my private deck for the departure from Florida and, to be honest, I was not fully present.
So when we departed Bermuda, I wanted to be surrounded by the excitement of others and out on the top deck, so I could hear the ship’s horn as it lifted anchor and we pulled away.
I’m so glad I did! The slow shift from stillness to motion was remarkable. I was also puzzled that the ship didn’t move forward or back, but seemed to move directly sideways. How does that happen?
Well, that was a question I had for the captain. The Silver Ray is equipped with powerful side thrusters that allow the ship to move laterally.
The cheers went up, and the thrill of departure was contagious.
A small decision — to be fully present — made the moment unforgettable.
10 || The Beauty of the Uncomplicated
I tried all the restaurants on the ship. And every single one exceeded my expectations. Intriguingly, because the itinerary was a crossing, over the course of our two weeks, every restaurant changed the menu offerings for their upcoming Mediterranean season.
So I got to relish and choose among that many more dishes!
But a simple pasta with red pepper flakes served for lunch felt exactly right. It was so good, I ordered a second helping.
A reminder that not everything memorable needs to be elaborate.
11 || Arrival in a World Half-Seen
Getting off the ship in Porto felt like stepping into a cloud.
The sun was just beginning to rise, but the light was diffused through mist that wrapped everything in softness. The ship, the dock, the city beyond…it all felt suspended, as if the world hadn’t fully decided to reveal itself yet.
After days at sea, where horizon and sky blurred into one, it was a gentle re-entry.
Not an arrival but a soft transition.
12 || Becoming Someone Else, Briefly
We had been at sea for nine uninterrupted days—longer than planned.
A storm with 30-foot swells forced us far north. Madeira was canceled, and instead we made our way to Porto.
Time stretched. Space expanded.
And then something unexpected happened. The jewelry boutique onboard organized a fashion show.
Ten women were asked to model. And I was one of them.
They placed emeralds around my neck, on my wrist and earrings and fingers, pieces that together were worth more than my first apartment. That realization shocked me.
To be honest, I had never quite understood the appeal of jewels like that. But I now understand it a little. Perhaps that was the point. I did buy a ring to mark this milestone birthday trip. It’s truly beautiful though worth far, far less. I love it for the memory.
What stays isn’t the itinerary. I frankly enjoyed the release from the “tyranny of the tours,” and all the worry about what to do, is the tour the right one for me, considering the time and my energy was let go. There were no stops for nine days. I could just rest.
To just be, on a stunning ship, with people from all over the world, replenished me in a way I didn’t even apprehend that I needed.
It’s the way certain trips ask you to slow down, pay attention, and feel something fully.
That’s the real work of travel.
