Photo: Press
I’m in the final moments of a week on a Mediterranean cruise ship. Waiting for my taxi to the airport in one of the lounges on board, I can’t help but watch another man who seems to be in a similar limbo state. He’s clad in a thick jacket, much too hot for the sweltering Spanish weather outside, and is drinking to himself. I can’t tell whether he is disembarking from the cruise I’ve just been on, a five-day club cruise, or whether he’s just embarking on the LGBTQ Rainbow Cruise that will leave the port this evening. But as I fly back, the man fills my thoughts.
In the man I watch in the lounge I see all the deep pleasures the cruise has to offer. I see the pleasures of a free bar immediately in front of him, but I also see the loneliness, the cabin fever, the motion sickness, and sense of unease about this environment, that I’ve similarly felt over the last few days. I leave him, hope beyond hope, that he is just getting over his uncomfortable sea legs.
In many ways, this man represents where we find ourselves on cruises. We’re coaxed to the idea of it by brochures; we’re convinced of its exoticness by travel agents, but it’s us that eventually experience the cruise itself. And we might not be prepared, and we might not feel immediately comfortable with it, but in time, the community of strangers who embark on these journeys offer a unique community, quite outside of everyday life.
All aboard the Mein Schiff 2
This whole adventure started a month before when an email landed in my inbox. The German party promoters, Big City Beats, were hosting a cruise a Mediterranean cruise with a twist. Instead of all the entertainments already on offer on the cruise, they would be installing six temporary clubs across different spaces on the boat.
We’d set sail in Mid-May, and over the course of five days we’d make stop offs at Barcelona, Ibiza, and Mallorca. It all sounded too rich for me. I’m not a clubber, and the idea of a cruise filled me with all the dread and discomfort of being on one of the all inclusive package holidays I’d seen advertised on the windows of travel agents. But a month later, I was boarding a plane for Palma, Mallorca, with no idea of what I was getting myself into.
My taxi from the airport drives the length of the Palma shoreline. We pass the main town, the marina, and a Spanish Navy training base, before the road dips down towards the security barriers on the harbour dockside. We pull up next to a row of TUI Cruise branded buses.
It’s only from the harbour-side that I start to take in the size of the ship we’re about to board. It might have looked big from the air, but down here, looking up at it, it’s colossal. Balconies run along the length of the boat, of which where there must be over a hundred in total, before ascending upwards 12 decks into the sky. There are five floors of cabins all in all, and another one deep in the hull of the boat reserved for staff members.
On board the boat itself, there’s enough space for 850 crew members, and almost 2009 passengers. Of the 850 crew, there are 40 different nationalities, over 20 different spoken languages, and six different religions practiced on board.
On board the boat we’re given a quick briefing by the tour company. The cruise is being run by the German off-shoot of Thompson Cook in the UK. During the less busy spring months, they have been experimenting with these new ‘special’ cruises. The idea is to target new and niche audiences, who might not have thought about going on a cruise before. With two million cruise guests in Germany alone, it’s a new market and TUI are doing everything in their power to capitalise on it.
The company’s cruises are markedly untraditional. There are no dress codes or captain’s dinners, and there’s free drinks and buffets on offer 24hrs a day, as well as entertainment to suit the clientele. The average age of cruise guests in the summer months is nearly 60, but with these special one offs, that number drops to well below the 40-mark.
The crew themselves are largely either Central European or South Asian, while the higher ranking crew are Spanish, German, or Greek. For many of the South Asian members of staff, many work on the ship because it doesn’t require an ordinary working visa like work would require in any conventional European city. Wages are paid in dollars, and with everything accommodated for on the boat, it means there’s more money to send home at the end of the month.
Portside
The boat sets sail at 8pm local time, giving me a few hours to run around the streets of Palma before getting back to the boat. There’s a shuttle that goes towards the city, which gives me a few hours of veering around Palma’s Old Town.
The pace here is quite gentle. Cobbled backstreets with high-end boutiques and restaurants make it feel like its moneyed, but without any pretentiousness. Paintings of the seafront hang outside boutiques selling souvenirs, while little gelato huts offer tasters to passersby.
Back onboard the boat – I start to get a feel of the kind of people who launch themselves into five days at sea on an electronic party cruise. There’s a real mix of people on board. There are groups of younger German clubbers, who’ve all come in big packs with friends. And there are older faces, mostly in couples, who’ve come as an alternative to going to another German dance music festival.
The Big City Beats cruise is not the first spectacular the promoters have put together. Big City Beats have capitalised on the recent growth in German EDM fans. Specialising in large scale clubbing experiences, this five-day party cruise, follows on from experimental parties held on board Boeing 747’s, a party on a high-speed cross-country train, and running the biggest ever temporary super-club, where 200 DJs played across a 700,000 square metre site. The cruise itself is only a lead up, to their biggest party yet, which will see Big City Beats build another super-club. In a way, the cruise is a preview of what to expect.
In terms of artists there’s a variety on offer. For those who like straight up EDM, there are the likes of Robin Schulz, Dimitri Vegas and Like Mike, Alle Farben, and Laidback Luke. For the majority of the weekend, their sets are on the Pool Deck – the biggest space on the boat, that’s surrounded by two pools and Jacuzzis. Pretty much at any point during the week, you’ll find the Pool Deck rammed. In the theatre, you’ll find stuff that’s slightly more specialist. There’s hard techno from Felix Kröcher, or a selection of trap from the likes of Le Shuuk and Apashe. Slip back towards the middle of the boat towards the lounges, and there’s a mix of DJ’s playing all weekend. Our favourite proves to be Einmusik, who we catch throughout the weekend playing a mix of both live sets and DJ.
The headliners will all be sleeping, eating, and living on board just as the passengers are all weekend. Which means by day five, they will share the same fatigue as we will. It’s quite extraordinary to be in an environment like it, where instead of a festival where life can often feel dislocated into small groups that people are forced into an intimate community of strangers sharing in the same experience. It’s a novel idea, and for me, part of the real attraction of the cruise experience.
The boat launches within the hour, and by 9pm we’re drifting away from Mallorca. As the boat departs, the water rushes up against the dockside. As the lights of Mallorca fade into the distance, the deep dark blue of the night sky brushes the horizon line of the ocean. Between us now, there’s nothing but water and house music.
At Sea
For the next 24 hours, we’ll have to be content with nothing but sea before us, as it’s not until the next morning that we arrive in Barcelona. There are hangovers to contend with from the night before, and my cabin partner, having not slept for the two days prior to his flight, does more than his fair share of lying in. Before we make for breakfast in the buffet hall, and then spend some time being toured around the ship by the TUI Cruise crew.
For anyone who’s not into this kind of culture, there’s little chance to escape. And with the next 24 hours promising nothing but turbulence and seasickness it means things are pretty tough going. For everyone on the boat, the first 24 hours bodes getting used to their sea legs. It means centralising ourselves in the middle of the boat, and taking it easy on the drink.
Something I find out very quickly, over the first 24 hours, is that finding time and space to get your head straight, before descending out into the chaos of the clubs, is very important.
The choreography of music across the boat is seamless, and the sheer ambition of the promoters that is something to marvel it. Anywhere you walk there is music. On the in-cruise sound system that plays throughout the boat mixes play all day long. In the cruise bars, usually reserved for those who wish to gaze back at sea, there’s DJ’s playing throughout the afternoon and evening. And even in the kids lounges, and the area usually reserved for ballroom dancing there’s DJ equipment set up. When you finally find a little chill time on the cabin balcony – even then, you can still hear music booming from one end of the boat to the other.
Most of the sets I see drift out of fairly quickly. But it’s the passing between the club spaces on the boat, the different intimate rooms where clubbers are hard at it, that I enjoy.
Taucher is an early favourite. The DJ is a relic of the early Frankfurt scene, and one of the German DJ’s prompts to the fact that many have come on board the cruise to see him alone. He’ll play most nights on the boat, with the same audiences turning up most nights to watch.
The music he plays is powerful and progressive - much less instant than what’s on offer on the Pool Deck. While Robin Schulz, might pound through ten tunes in as many minutes, here that ten minutes is given to just one track.
It’s here that I really favour the music. What I’ve found tricky on the Pool Deck; I can find more eternal peace with elsewhere. I’m impressed by the diversity of music the festival has booked on board here, and their ability to take spaces that seem abnormal as settings for clubbing, and make them warm to the sounds of house music. Barcelona
By the time we reach Barcelona in the morning, the routine of cruise life has become a little more embedded. It feels good to finally leave the boat and set foot on land. We’ve got eight hours to enjoy the city, before docking back on the boat for another night of parties at sea, time that offers some counselling to early thoughts about the cruise experience.
With the city comes freedom – discovery and exploration that is truly wild. I take the metro up to Park Güell to see some of the Gaudi architecture, but also to feel some sense of the real, rustic, and wild feelings you can’t get on the boat.
In the Güell, the air is rich with birdsong and sounds you don’t hear at sea. There’s the brush of trees on the wind, the crunch of footsteps under gravel. Underneath the arches of the walkways, musicians fiddle away at their instruments, while street-sellers stir gently at walkers who scan their blankets of cheap sunglasses.
Towards Ibiza
Back on board, it’s back to music. We step towards music from Taucher again, the Frankfurt DJ who got me excited on the second night. We drift to another room where we watch an earthy house set from DJ Hell. I later find out he’s the only DJ ever to be welcomed for a John Peel session.
Most of our third night is spent pottering between these upstairs venues. It’s easy to be carried by sounds here, and there’s no real need to know the DJ’s playing, what’s instinctive is to go with whatever sound takes you.
There is however a couple of planned appearances. My cabin mate, who’s all the more familiar with the line-up than me, takes me to see someone he’s been excited by all weekend. Talla 2XLC is one of the original and early pioneers of trance, and for my cabin mate it’s a set of pure ecstasy. We don’t see him happier all weekend, and despite trance music never being really my thing – it’s pretty enjoyable to be getting on with. Clubbing on board makes much more sense when you forget the boat and just remember you’re moving towards the highlights of the Iberian Peninsula. I imagine there’s a similar feeling at festivals like ATP, or anything set in an old Pontins or Butlins park, where the entire infrastructure is built for something different, but for one weekend, its home to music fans.
The clubs are quite unfamiliar spaces. They’re almost aggressive in a way. They aren’t like clubs which are deep, dark, and can lose your mind and body in. Instead, here there’s always a hyper-awareness of the movement of the boat, something that’s unsettling at first, but becomes a part of your body after a while.
Washed up
I’m worn out by the time we arrive in Ibiza. Last night I slept on the balcony, as my cabin-mates snoring has given me trouble sleeping. Secretly though, it allows me to fade in and out of sleep as the boat docks in. As the dawn rises over the seashore and the town fades into view, we get our first taste of Ibiza.
We make it into Ibiza late today. Conversations with people from the previous night take up the morning. We sit down with one of the sound crew. We spotted him last night at DJ Hell. Dressed up in camo pants, and giving what’s for, the image of him in his sound technician clothes is quite different. He’s equally found the space over the last few days interesting. There’s some old names that have really captured what he’s into, and just like us, he’s spent most of his time avoiding the Pool Deck.
Upstairs, where we spent most of last night is where the more intimate clubs and music can be found. It’s less exhausting than the music in the Theatre and by the Pool, and celebrates some of the more hard-worn faces of German club culture.
By the time we hit town, it’s almost midday, and the lull of Ibiza’s Old Town is in full motion. The older town is a wash of boutique industry built for the locals, and is largely Spanish speaking. This part of town is taken care of, and feels like the backwash of any Spanish small town. Beautiful, simple, un-rushed, where people take their time to walk into bars and greet friends and talk over their days.
Down by the shoreline, and Ibiza is very different. The club culture of Ibiza has given the town and beating. We’re here just before the club season kicks off, meaning there’s some replanting and painting work to be done before the real summer kicks in. Most of the clubs don’t have their opening parties till next weekend, which means the town is filled more with those on stag do’s rather than clubbers themselves.
Ibiza offers a curious juxtaposition. In the backstreets, there’s a maze of surprising experiences – birds in cages, little cafes, quiet boutiques, but on the shoreline it feels a little tired, not what you’d expect for a place that’s become so mythologised.
Homeward Bound
Easing out of Ibiza’s port at sunset, many take to the back of the boat to take photographs. It’s our last night on board and our last sunset. Things have a more chilled out atmosphere now. The five days of partying has worn in, and many just simply enjoy their final evening on board.
Pretty much the best place to enjoy things of a more chilled out demeanour on board is in the TUI-bar. It’s a lounge by day, and usually reserved for those who like to enjoy staring back at the city – but over the whole of the last five days, it’s been a place where music from the Balearics is celebrated.
The low-key nature of the space is something to be celebrated. As are the sets by Dre Guazalli and Paul Lomax, which feel less like they’re pulling for your ears, and instead about championing a diversity of music that really relaxes the soul. I wish there had been more of this stuff elsewhere on the boat, as the two different types of booking on board – old and classic, against young and adrenaline racing – meet in various clashes in many ways. Audiences draw each towards their chosen music, and whilst it’s great to celebrate the variety, one or the other, would have offered a more connected atmosphere. As night descends, it’s back into the last night of clubbing. I watch Ibiza disappear from the balcony before spending the last night wandering around the boat with a couple of friends we’ve made onboard.
By morning we’re back in the same concrete fabricated port that we started. Some are up early to get early flights, while others gently spend their last few hours taking in any final sea views before heading home. After packing, I make my way down to the halls before awaiting departure. It’s here that I see the curious man in the heavy jacket, and can’t help but wonder about whether he is just embarking or waiting for his taxi home. As I make my way back to the airport, back past the Palma shoreline, back past the pastry chef I fell in love with, and the angry English ex-past bookshop owner I met on the first day, I can’t help but think about the man in the lounge.
As I make for London, I realise what a mad five days it’s been. It’s the biggest and most ambitious story I’ve been sent on. And despite the fear of loneliness, despite being in a space full of Germans who like to party, despite feeling seasick for most of the journey, I can say it was an experimental journey I will miss.
A club cruise like this one might not be for me, but cruise life itself is nothing but pleasant. It takes some getting used to, and a part of you will always question what goes on behind closed doors. But once the thinking is behind you, and the art of movement starts to settle a little into your brain, the cruise experience itself is quite unlike any other form of modern travel.
