This January, Nawlins saw its snowiest day since records were kept. North Georgia, including nickname-forfeited Hotlanta, got pummeled by snow, ice and all varieties of nasty road conditions that shut down public transit. And we won’t even start about what happened in Pensacola.
Winter was a lost cause, and them gelid good ol’ boys and belles were able to split the South. But their medevac conveyance of alternative wasn’t a 1969 Dodge Charger — it was the Sun Princess, the primary of the cruise line’s latest Sphere class of ships. Only one-year old, and fresh off a stint within the Mediterranean, the Sun began sailing from Port Everglades Fort Lauderdale back in October of this yr, to much acclaim.
It is going to proceed to sail from there to the Eastern and Western Caribbean, Mexico and the Bahamas through mid-March before returning to the Med. So, tick-tock (no worries: It’ll be back in November, when it should probably be blizzarding in Death Valley).
Despite its name, the ship doesn’t run on solar panels (yet). As an alternative, it uses only liquefied natural gas to sail her week- to two-week-long jaunts. (Her nearly twin sister ship, the likewise astrally named Star, is arriving in early October of this yr — the largest difference? There will probably be less smoking in her casino).
This Sun Princess can also be a little bit of a prom queen, being christened the newest Love Boat by the corporate.
So listed below are the stats she’d post on Hinge: This BBW sports 177,882 tonnage, is a sea-leggy 200 feet high, with 21 decks, and is 1,133 feet long, from aft to the tip of her perfect frontal nose. And for those 4,300 max suitors vying for her 2,157 state rooms (80 suites), Sun has a crew of 1,600 vigilant chaperones.
Intrigued? Swipe right to examine her other charms.
Shorely you jest
Shore excursions can either skew dreamy or nightmarish, depending on, well, the people in tow. By some means I pulled off the fun version.
First, I landed on Roatán, Honduras, where I used to be treated to not actual Mayan ruins, but replicas possibly fabricated from papier-mâché, or whatever they use to “Minecraft” IRL. Still, it was well done to the extent of “It’s a Small World.” Just BYO-tomatoes for those who’d prefer to recreate an altar heart sacrifice.
Nevertheless, I used to be here more for the rescued animals they take care of on 11.5-acre Maya Key, like pumas, peacocks, spider monkeys, even wild boars. In case you’d reasonably devour critters, included lunch was local chicken served with rice, salad, and after all, drink deals.
Tour No. 2 in Belize the next day involved those giant fan-propelled airboats folks down on the bayou used to source their gator sliders. We skimmed along the waters of Almond Hill Lagoon.
Guests, who can booze before, during and after the ride, wear protective earphones because that “fan” is so massively loud. To assist steer the craft, passengers fully stretch their arms left, up or right, depending in your pilot’s orders. This quickly descended into our lovely captain doing the “YMCA” dance.
Since the water levels were so low, we saw little or no wildlife save for a blue-crowned motmot, termites (they nest to eat the dead mangroves) and a social flycatcher. But a baby crocodile sighting saved the day!
En route back (as fast as possible through the mean streets of Belize City) to the ship, our hilarious bus PA emcee taught us slightly Belizean creole (kriol): Weh di goan? = What’s up? How yuh name? = What’s your name? Mawnin! = Good morning! (It’s not exactly Mandarin by way of linguistic difficulty…)
Sadly, submarine tour day No. 3 was scuffed for me. Due to wind and rain across the island of Cozumel, Mexico’s port of call, I got the I-boot from the U-boot tour via a tragic note under my door the night prior.
Don’t have any fear, I plan B’d it into the center of the ship, the Piazza, spanning decks 7 through 9, floors easily traversed by classy glass staircases.
A mega-sized Jenga game was in progress, followed by a “Deal or No Deal” show.
I then made a triple-strawberry-margarita run at nearby bar Crooners, grabbed some ‘za at Alfredo’s and inappropriately loud-whispered the more-or-less correct answers during a heated live “Family Feud” showdown.
Rubber room
The Sun Princes can travel as much as 22 knots, but that’s not counting those in your shoulders, neck and back.
Leave those to the therapists at Sun’s Lotus Spa. Mine was named Shaista, pronounced “sheisty,” but she was anything but, offering up a stunning time-loses-all-meaning (allegedly 75-minute) Swedish massage for $199.
Their fancy robes are something to put in writing home to Mom about, too.
Boatload of food
Fair or not, Japanese staff have a popularity for being all business. But not teppanyaki chefs just like the ones at Umai on Deck 8.
You give a person a shiny blade and a chef’s hat he can store eggs on top of and unexpectedly he’s a wild and crazy guy, singing punny Bon Jovi lyrics like, “It’s my rice, it’s now or never.” Then all bets are off.
Enjoy watching this manic slicing, dicing, flipping and other types of culinary parkour of those guys as they grill eggy “Japanese omelets” mixed with noodles, seafood, veggies, meat, or the entire above, in very high-energy fashion right in front of you.
And for those who missed Pier 59’s secretish shoreside pop-up Valentine’s Day restaurant event in NYC on Feb.13 and 14 called Love by Britto — that’d be Romero Britto, a colourful artist with a passion for hearts, to say the least — you possibly can at all times visit his restaurant on Deck 17.
His $149 seven-course prix fixe menu is, after all, aphrodisiac-filled and the decor is as cardiac-floating as a BTS TikTok live stream.
Neither of those restos strike your fancy? There are like two dozen-plus other eateries and bars across the ship, don’t be lazy.
Circular logic
You already know that big, fat-headed staple of Vegas with a cartoonish face and crazy eyes? No, not Carrot Top, I mean the Sphere arena, which regularly displays a wacky emoji face you possibly can see from space.
Well, as luck must have it, this Sphere-class ship has its own, form of, called the Dome, “inspired by the hills of Santorini” and given to them by the identical folks behind the Strip’s. It’s a 9,494-sqare-foot geodesic venue made entirely of glass with an indoor/outdoor pool at its base.
Think less U2 gigs here and more like acrobatic shows and concert events by authentically Irish trios. Pint of Plain was the one I saw. They fiddled like no one’s business on stage, attempting to encourage the at-capacity crowd of 250 to drunkenly jump up, jump up and get down. Except when said crowd was mostly AARP members and it was after 10 p.m., ’twas a little bit of a idiot’s errand — however the audience managed to get jiggy with it on their chaise lounges between naps.
Fabracadabra
Magic shows are a ghastly gumbo of corniness, hilarity and breath-taking, brain-bending awe. (Also, hosted by nerds in superhero tees — each Marvel and DC are allowed — under a cultured blazer; our illusionist this eve, Woody Aragón, can be Batman). The Victorian-styled “secret room” experience aboard Sun is Spellbound, where you possibly can dine, drink and/or purely possess oneself with the mystification of the night’s tricks and treats.
Sleight of hand is utilized for each card tricks and the pouring of creative cocktails — a number of the latter don’t exactly taste great within the classical sense, nevertheless it gets your mind in a properly perplexable state (swig the Escape from Houdini’s Chest or the Conjuror and your medulla will probably be plastered on one wall, the oblongata on one other after witnessing their fanciful tricks, some involving live phone video calls!).
However the highlight of the night will probably be the presence of possibly the primary AI to have replaced us humans: a “player piano,” which was invented in 1895 by Homo sapien traitor Edwin S. Votey. But Spellbound’s pianist didn’t go quietly, as a ghost named Isabella is the actual ivory tickler behind the tunes. She also takes requests, so be happy to get all Brat with it.
The one catch of this place (“hidden” behind a door with an enormous “S” on it within the casino) is you might have to properly primp up for the occasion. But for those who occur to be a flaky, slob of a Californian who forgot to pack a dressy jacket — ahem — they’ll promptly track one down (gold-buttoned!) for you with a polite nod and a hanger ($149).
For more information on booking, visit Princess.com/sunprincess.
This January, Nawlins saw its snowiest day since records were kept. North Georgia, including nickname-forfeited Hotlanta, got pummeled by snow, ice and all varieties of nasty road conditions that shut down public transit. And we won’t even start about what happened in Pensacola.
Winter was a lost cause, and them gelid good ol’ boys and belles were able to split the South. But their medevac conveyance of alternative wasn’t a 1969 Dodge Charger — it was the Sun Princess, the primary of the cruise line’s latest Sphere class of ships. Only one-year old, and fresh off a stint within the Mediterranean, the Sun began sailing from Port Everglades Fort Lauderdale back in October of this yr, to much acclaim.
It is going to proceed to sail from there to the Eastern and Western Caribbean, Mexico and the Bahamas through mid-March before returning to the Med. So, tick-tock (no worries: It’ll be back in November, when it should probably be blizzarding in Death Valley).
Despite its name, the ship doesn’t run on solar panels (yet). As an alternative, it uses only liquefied natural gas to sail her week- to two-week-long jaunts. (Her nearly twin sister ship, the likewise astrally named Star, is arriving in early October of this yr — the largest difference? There will probably be less smoking in her casino).
This Sun Princess can also be a little bit of a prom queen, being christened the newest Love Boat by the corporate.
So listed below are the stats she’d post on Hinge: This BBW sports 177,882 tonnage, is a sea-leggy 200 feet high, with 21 decks, and is 1,133 feet long, from aft to the tip of her perfect frontal nose. And for those 4,300 max suitors vying for her 2,157 state rooms (80 suites), Sun has a crew of 1,600 vigilant chaperones.
Intrigued? Swipe right to examine her other charms.
Shorely you jest
Shore excursions can either skew dreamy or nightmarish, depending on, well, the people in tow. By some means I pulled off the fun version.
First, I landed on Roatán, Honduras, where I used to be treated to not actual Mayan ruins, but replicas possibly fabricated from papier-mâché, or whatever they use to “Minecraft” IRL. Still, it was well done to the extent of “It’s a Small World.” Just BYO-tomatoes for those who’d prefer to recreate an altar heart sacrifice.
Nevertheless, I used to be here more for the rescued animals they take care of on 11.5-acre Maya Key, like pumas, peacocks, spider monkeys, even wild boars. In case you’d reasonably devour critters, included lunch was local chicken served with rice, salad, and after all, drink deals.
Tour No. 2 in Belize the next day involved those giant fan-propelled airboats folks down on the bayou used to source their gator sliders. We skimmed along the waters of Almond Hill Lagoon.
Guests, who can booze before, during and after the ride, wear protective earphones because that “fan” is so massively loud. To assist steer the craft, passengers fully stretch their arms left, up or right, depending in your pilot’s orders. This quickly descended into our lovely captain doing the “YMCA” dance.
Since the water levels were so low, we saw little or no wildlife save for a blue-crowned motmot, termites (they nest to eat the dead mangroves) and a social flycatcher. But a baby crocodile sighting saved the day!
En route back (as fast as possible through the mean streets of Belize City) to the ship, our hilarious bus PA emcee taught us slightly Belizean creole (kriol): Weh di goan? = What’s up? How yuh name? = What’s your name? Mawnin! = Good morning! (It’s not exactly Mandarin by way of linguistic difficulty…)
Sadly, submarine tour day No. 3 was scuffed for me. Due to wind and rain across the island of Cozumel, Mexico’s port of call, I got the I-boot from the U-boot tour via a tragic note under my door the night prior.
Don’t have any fear, I plan B’d it into the center of the ship, the Piazza, spanning decks 7 through 9, floors easily traversed by classy glass staircases.
A mega-sized Jenga game was in progress, followed by a “Deal or No Deal” show.
I then made a triple-strawberry-margarita run at nearby bar Crooners, grabbed some ‘za at Alfredo’s and inappropriately loud-whispered the more-or-less correct answers during a heated live “Family Feud” showdown.
Rubber room
The Sun Princes can travel as much as 22 knots, but that’s not counting those in your shoulders, neck and back.
Leave those to the therapists at Sun’s Lotus Spa. Mine was named Shaista, pronounced “sheisty,” but she was anything but, offering up a stunning time-loses-all-meaning (allegedly 75-minute) Swedish massage for $199.
Their fancy robes are something to put in writing home to Mom about, too.
Boatload of food
Fair or not, Japanese staff have a popularity for being all business. But not teppanyaki chefs just like the ones at Umai on Deck 8.
You give a person a shiny blade and a chef’s hat he can store eggs on top of and unexpectedly he’s a wild and crazy guy, singing punny Bon Jovi lyrics like, “It’s my rice, it’s now or never.” Then all bets are off.
Enjoy watching this manic slicing, dicing, flipping and other types of culinary parkour of those guys as they grill eggy “Japanese omelets” mixed with noodles, seafood, veggies, meat, or the entire above, in very high-energy fashion right in front of you.
And for those who missed Pier 59’s secretish shoreside pop-up Valentine’s Day restaurant event in NYC on Feb.13 and 14 called Love by Britto — that’d be Romero Britto, a colourful artist with a passion for hearts, to say the least — you possibly can at all times visit his restaurant on Deck 17.
His $149 seven-course prix fixe menu is, after all, aphrodisiac-filled and the decor is as cardiac-floating as a BTS TikTok live stream.
Neither of those restos strike your fancy? There are like two dozen-plus other eateries and bars across the ship, don’t be lazy.
Circular logic
You already know that big, fat-headed staple of Vegas with a cartoonish face and crazy eyes? No, not Carrot Top, I mean the Sphere arena, which regularly displays a wacky emoji face you possibly can see from space.
Well, as luck must have it, this Sphere-class ship has its own, form of, called the Dome, “inspired by the hills of Santorini” and given to them by the identical folks behind the Strip’s. It’s a 9,494-sqare-foot geodesic venue made entirely of glass with an indoor/outdoor pool at its base.
Think less U2 gigs here and more like acrobatic shows and concert events by authentically Irish trios. Pint of Plain was the one I saw. They fiddled like no one’s business on stage, attempting to encourage the at-capacity crowd of 250 to drunkenly jump up, jump up and get down. Except when said crowd was mostly AARP members and it was after 10 p.m., ’twas a little bit of a idiot’s errand — however the audience managed to get jiggy with it on their chaise lounges between naps.
Fabracadabra
Magic shows are a ghastly gumbo of corniness, hilarity and breath-taking, brain-bending awe. (Also, hosted by nerds in superhero tees — each Marvel and DC are allowed — under a cultured blazer; our illusionist this eve, Woody Aragón, can be Batman). The Victorian-styled “secret room” experience aboard Sun is Spellbound, where you possibly can dine, drink and/or purely possess oneself with the mystification of the night’s tricks and treats.
Sleight of hand is utilized for each card tricks and the pouring of creative cocktails — a number of the latter don’t exactly taste great within the classical sense, nevertheless it gets your mind in a properly perplexable state (swig the Escape from Houdini’s Chest or the Conjuror and your medulla will probably be plastered on one wall, the oblongata on one other after witnessing their fanciful tricks, some involving live phone video calls!).
However the highlight of the night will probably be the presence of possibly the primary AI to have replaced us humans: a “player piano,” which was invented in 1895 by Homo sapien traitor Edwin S. Votey. But Spellbound’s pianist didn’t go quietly, as a ghost named Isabella is the actual ivory tickler behind the tunes. She also takes requests, so be happy to get all Brat with it.
The one catch of this place (“hidden” behind a door with an enormous “S” on it within the casino) is you might have to properly primp up for the occasion. But for those who occur to be a flaky, slob of a Californian who forgot to pack a dressy jacket — ahem — they’ll promptly track one down (gold-buttoned!) for you with a polite nod and a hanger ($149).
For more information on booking, visit Princess.com/sunprincess.
