I am sitting off in a corner of the immense lobby of the World, the luxury cruise ship on which every apartment, studio and suite is privately owned. The lobby is the size of a soccer pitch, open and elegant. A surfeit of space that seems to announce to first-time visitors, "Look, I've got more room here than you could possibly need."
My wife is over in the Banyan Tree-operated spa, a Thai experience in a suitably tranquil setting. I felt obligated to test the Thai-ness of the massage yesterday, and, yes indeed, the therapist did jump up on the table to take a bit of a stroll on my back. Fortunately, she was not wearing heels.
The art gallery was offering some beautiful modern pieces in keeping with the ship's Stockholm-meets-SoHo design theme. The artist was onboard to discuss technique and, I suppose, to part with a work or two. Sales are slightly easier to close on the World because the purchased pieces only have to travel up a deck or two to find their cherished place in an owner's living room.
The theater shows first-run movies and is a wonderful spot for onboard lecturers. My daughter was entertained by staff in a well-equipped children's center, a fact that seemed remarkable only because she was one of two young children onboard.
I get up and walk to the hallway on my right and pass Fredy's Deli, an international gourmet shop that carries about 500 "necessities." On the World, that would, by definition, include Beluga caviar, foie gras and truffled this and that. The owners pay for their groceries. After all, most have fully equipped designer kitchens in their cabin. But there is no charge for renters as long as the food is consumed at one of the tables overlooking the sea.
This morning, I had smoked salmon eggs Benedict at the Marina restaurant. I took out a small pad and begin scribbling notes about my observations during the past 24 hours, when I suddenly realized that the tables to my left and right were occupied by owners, and they weren't whispering.
I put my small pad away and began eavesdropping, glad that the story was coming to me; I wasn't going to have to go far to find it.
One owner was recounting his meeting with His Holiness, the Dalai Lama, weeks earlier.
There was also a fascinating discussion revolving around the wisdom of purchasing of a $4.5 million, two-bedroom unit on the World. Everyone at the table nodded in agreement as one gentleman observed, "I won't make anything on this purchase. But imagine how much I would have lost had I put the money in the market."
Another owner wondered aloud if he "should go back to India again? If I don't do that segment, I will probably have my sister go."
The type-A personality in the blue blazer and pressed khaki shorts explained to his table mates, "I had three houses, and I wasn't using two of them, so I figured why not buy one really nice house that happens to float around the planet? I can get on and off when I want. Boy, it's been a great lifestyle choice. And, quite frankly, if I lose 10% to 15% of my investment, so what? It's still worth it, and I would have lost more had I kept the houses."
The most telling comment came from a youngish-looking fellow in a powder-blue golf sweater. "I've bought into this for my kids, and I've never had a minute of regret," he said. "What better gift could I leave them than the World?" Everyone at the table nodded in agreement.
To my right, two women were planning their day. One asked her friend if she was planning on doing anything special during the ship's three-day stop in Veracruz, Mexico.
"I've got all these books sitting in my living room," her friend replied. "Can we play it sort of loose?"
That night, we pretty much had the ship to ourselves. One of the owners has a home near where the ship was docked for the Super Bowl. He sent a private bus to pick up everyone for a catered dinner at his home.
Of course, owners do not need to provide a bus. One of the ship's chefs can be booked to come to an owner's suite to prepare a private dinner for friends.
Later in the morning, I visited a three-bedroom, three-bath, 3,100-square-foot apartment. It was showing signs that the recession was finding its way onto this floating bastion of wealth and privilege: The $7.9 million asking price had just been lowered to $7.4 million, which, I was assured, "is a really good deal."
Given that there are so few guests aboard ship at any one time, not all of the restaurants are open each evening. Portraits is the full-blown French gourmet experience, and they only turn the tables over once.
Renters can utilize the services of a world-class concierge team, which can secure impossible reservations ashore while also arranging truly customized ways to experience the ports of call along the way.
In the upcoming months, the World will do Mexico, followed by South America, then Central America, the West Coast of the U.S., July in Alaska and a Bering Sea expedition in August, followed by Russia.
Then it's off to Asia, the Philippines, an expedition to Papua New Guinea, followed by Australia in December.
But these itineraries are unique in that they include three days in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam; four in Tokyo; nine in Papua New Guinea; and five in Sydney. And that is what I find most attractive about the World. These are worldwide cruises for people with the time, inclination and wallets to actually see some of the places they are visiting.
Is the World a cruise ship? I suppose it is, if you believe that a supercomputer and a PC are both of the same species. But I see it more as a private club that allows a fortunate few outsiders like me to bypass the membership and purchase requirements in order to experience the ultimate lifestyle at sea.
The World is a quiet place. There are few security concerns because no one seems to know it is in port. Celebrities have not been encouraged to purchase so as not to call attention to the ship or its owners.
It is out there, sailing effortlessly in and out of ports around the globe. No hoopla, no lines, no noise. And, at their whim, just a few at a time, its 150 or so privileged guests disembark to get a true sense of place, returning each night to their homes.
Click here to read Part 1, "A World apart."
Contributing editor Richard Turen owns Churchill and Turen, a vacation-planning firm that has been named to the Conde Nast Traveler's list of the World's Top Travel Specialists since the list began. Contact him at [email protected].