Sail the Atlantic Aboard Cunard’s Ocean Liner, Queen Mary 2

What’s one to do, sans shore excursions, when crossing the Atlantic on the legendary Queen Mary 2? Plenty, it turns out.

“En garde!” A sword shoots towards my chest. I raise my own weapon just in time and the clash of metal echoes through the brightly lit hall known as the Queens Room on Deck 3. Back and forth my partner and I battle under crystal chandeliers and the gaze of about a dozen people – and several paintings of British monarchs. We’re fencing, our upper bodies covered in white padding and faces obscured by mesh masks, on a ship rocking about in the middle of the Atlantic.

Foil fencing is one of the activities on offer as our ship, the Queen Mary 2 (QM2), sails between New York and Southampton on England’s south coast, a voyage that typically takes seven to eight days. “We’re the world’s last ocean liner,” says hotel manager David Shepherd. Unlike a cruise ship, he says, an ocean liner is long and narrow to cut through large waves. “Also unlike a cruise, there are no shore excursions. So the attraction has to be the ship.”

My partner and I discover this when we visit the kennels on Deck 12, where we find dogs and their owners clad in black vests – it’s photo day, a tradition each voyage. “She really knows when she’s on the ship,” says Christy Austin of her fouryear- old Yorkshire terrier, Simba, sporting a pink bow and sitting quietly. “The dogs get to know each other and you meet other owners – it’s great. This is the only transatlantic ship that lets you take dogs and cats.”

Austin has sailed with Simba on the QM2 four times. Next to them is Helga Stempelmann and chocolate-coloured, 10-year-old Luna, a baby-sized Brussels griffon with what looks like a walrus moustache. They’ve sailed on the ship 19 times. “Day one with the dogs is like a kindergarten,” says kennel master Oliver Cruz. “But eventually they get used to what it’s like onboard. If the animals are happy, their parents are happy.”

The Queen Mary 2 is the flagship of Cunard – it bought the company that owned the Titanic. We pass the doomed ship’s resting place early on day three at sea, which Captain Aseem Hashmi lets everyone know in the daily briefing that’s broadcast at noon over the public address system. “People are on board for many reasons,” he says. “For some, it’s a bucket-list item. Others are retracing immigration routes their families took or are migrating themselves. All walks of life come together. There are ordinary people. There are politicians, royalty, film stars – they’re walking around in disguise and you wouldn’t know it.”

Four-legged passengers on the Queen Mary 2

Crew member Simon Evison is even related to someone from the Titanic. His three-times great-uncle on his mum’s side, Wallace Hartley, was a bandleader. “This is the closest thing to the Titanic,” says the deputy production technical assistant, who’s worked on the QM2 for 10 years. “We still have afternoon teas with scones, we still have dancers with feathers. This is stepping back in history.”

It does feel as if we’re on a floating time machine when we set off, sipping champagne on the top deck amid a fluffy fog that gives the lights of New York golden halos. The Statue of Liberty’s torch appears to shine a path through the murky evening. Our cabin – a Queen’s Suite on Deck 9 – also harks back to a gilded age. Two bottles of Laurent-Perrier champagne greet us on arrival. The main room has a king-sized bed, couch, table, writing desk, armchair, wardrobe and minibar with an espresso machine. There’s a hallway with another desk, leading to a walk-in closet and bathroom with a jacuzzi. Our butler, Dong, and his assistant, John, provide daily salmon and caviar canapés and 24-hour room service.

It’s tempting to stay in for the whole journey – but we’re glad we don’t. A huge range of mostly free activities for the next day are listed in the paper delivered to our cabin each night. We visit the art gallery – showcasing street artist Mr Brainwash – and catch a talk by Grant Harrold, who discusses his years working as a butler for now King Charles III. One evening we attend a variety show, where performers in bright dresses and strappy heels sing everything from classical opera to Beyoncé and an orchestra plays the Indiana Jones theme. On another day, we visit the planetarium – the first (and largest) of its kind at sea – and get manicures and pedicures at the spa, which is spread across two decks.

Beyond scheduled activities, there’s the world’s largest floating library on Deck 8 – more than 10,000 volumes on shelves that light up. Being in a Queen’s Suite means we can eat at restaurants like the Queen’s Grill, where the menu changes daily and waiters remember our names and our preference for cheesy bread instead of regular rolls. Chef de cuisine Rajesh Devadiga says the waitstaff attend culinary school and receive another five to six months of training on board before serving passengers.

Watching the dark-blue waves from our cabin’s balcony isn’t on the activities list. Neither are the golden sunsets that lead to silver stars at night, so numerous it seems glitter has been spilled on the black sky. Nor is the whale we see on day four – the spray from its blowhole unmistakable.

The most magical moment, though, comes during a Roaring Twenties-themed “gala evening”. Men in tuxedos and women in fancy dresses dance, drink and laugh in small groups. A band plays foxtrots and waltzes. It’s difficult to recall what century we’re in. Until I remember that there is Zumba the next day.