The MS Marco Polo

One of our group said that the previous evening he had been obliged to lock his cabin door as a result of a violent altercation in the corridor concerning TV noise levels, not in adjacent but in opposing cabins. This escalated to a physical confrontation, which had to be broken up by crewmembers. Only by asking these kinds of questions of fellow travellers did I mange to piece together a proper picture of the voyage as a whole, which apparently included the decamping of some of the crew at Cadiz as a result of poor working conditions, along with some unhappy passengers too. And were we briefly stuck on the mud in Gibraltar? There was certainly a great deal of muddy water-churning and an unexpected delay in leaving.

Day 10: Gijon, Spain. Just time to stretch one’s legs before another 48-hour rush for home. I sensed a general feeling of deflation and dissatisfaction amongst many of the passengers alongside a strong desire for a speedy return to home and beauty. Apart from providing a brief unrocking base for a short walk, Gijon seems to have nothing whatsoever to recommend it at all.

Day 11: Last Day. I spoke this morning with a lady who had paid (for herself and her husband) a total of £3,000 for the voyage, who was understandably furious to find late bookers had expended merely a third of this at the last minute for similar cabins and facilities. When asked how she rated the whole experience she replied, 2/10. She also mentioned that the questionnaire issued to all passengers for comments carried the chance of a “free cruise” draw if posted into the reception box by 8pm. She was making sure she popped hers into the box well after 8pm so saying, “I wouldn’t go again with C & M even if it was free!”

Facilities Onboard: A small and inadequately stocked library comprising four armchairs (constantly filled) and a single desk, with books locked up at most times. Some recent-ish “House and Garden” type magazines, which appeared to “walk” swiftly from the shelves. Nearby a card room of similar size used occasionally for craft-type activities, which again stretched the available space beyond sensible limits.

On the upper deck, tucked somewhere under the eaves, a stuffy and hot Internet Room. My one attempt to log-on involved a complicated and completely impossible to initiate password system. Get a Blackberry! Spa / hairdressing / massage; all untested by yours truly, but one middle-aged guest was very pleased with her onboard hairdo.

Quite a number of passengers have returned to the Marco Polo for this cruise as a result of previous experiences when the ship was under different management, and almost without exception the consensus was that C & M fell far short by comparison. It seems that cost cutting by a very cost-conscious regime is contributing in large measure to customer dissatisfaction. However, for the first-time cruisers I spoke to, with no points of comparison, such issues were not raised.

Entertainment: C & M prides itself on a nightly range of live entertainment in two venues, and certainly some passengers were favourably impressed by this fact alone. Others complained that a recent change of management had left the entertainment basically the same, with the exception of a new Cruise Director. In this respect the present incumbent faired badly by comparison with his predecessor, and was generally considered to be both cocky and aloof, an awkward combination for someone of (at best) modest abilities. The nightly performances of popular middle-of-the-road music (Andrew Lloyd Webber et al) ranged from round-one losers from X Factor, to really quite accomplished. Voices were above mere competent, and 4 – 6 lithe and possibly classically trained dancers in a range of skimpy costumes kept the front row (wheelchair accessible) seats well filled. An orchestra of 6 – 7 accomplished musicians helped the atmosphere no end, and their native Eastern European repertoire was supplemented by quite a few American standards, which they clearly liked playing a lot. So an overall seven out of ten on this score.

Overview: The Marco Polo in its current guise is basically a ship appealing to a solid working-class passenger compliment. And before readers throw up their hands in horror at the word “class” I should point out that it is precisely this which forms a very strong element in most kinds of cruise, be it in the observation or in the breach. As passengers we are housed and often fed in a tier system based on an ability to pay (or not) and even the uniforms of crew and the hierarchy of command supports the idea that we slot into a class appropriate to our wealth and station in life. If you want to be treated like a Hollywood star of the 30s, take a Princess Grill cruise on the Queen Mary II, transatlantic. If you want to swig lager with beer-bellies from up North, Marco Polo is your ship.

So this is assuredly a “value for money” cruise with the emphasis firmly on the budget-conscious. One of the problems facing C & M is that they attempt to present a Cunard or P & O type front, whilst behind the scenes cut-price catering in conjunction with staff clearly unused to British social mores mean they are failing to actually satisfy either end of the spectrum. This, together with a compliment of passengers who looked like the walking wounded from the Napoleonic Wars, means that you have to be on guard to prevent oneself from simply falling in and becoming one of them and ending up being carted off in a wheelchair. One passenger who has already told me that the toast at breakfast had been a severe test of his remaining molars put it like this, “Look straight ahead, slightly above the heads of all the others, avoid eye contact, eat sparingly and carefully, bring plenty of booze on board and enjoy the ports of call”. I say amen to that and if you can, leave the Zimmer frame at Tilbury. Ah well, with erupting volcanoes, I guess it wasn’t so bad after all.