Famous resident of Mykonos Petros the Pelican

For the past seven years Karen Bowerman put off going on her cruise with her mother. But after a week of champagne and seven course dinners she discovered a whole different side to life on the ocean waves.

luxury travel on the Seabourn Odyessy

Our instructor, Craig, shows us how it’s done: he twists his left foot out, lifts it high off the ground, takes an exaggerated step, turns his ankle in and spins his body round - all the while swooping his arms in and out of various (implausible) positions.

I’m still half asleep and wonder what on earth I’m doing attempting such a complicated manoeuvre, especially at seven in the morning. But then I glance out of the floor-to-ceiling window and take in the view. Where else could I dabble in tai chi overlooking the glistening Aegean, as my home cut effortlessly through the waves towards the Greek island of Mykonos?

The trannquil courtyard in the Monastery of St John, complete with glittering mosaic in the corner, Patmos

This was cruising, Seabourn style, and although fitness classes weren’t compulsory, I’d been keen (when fully awake) to embrace the whole onboard experience.

Sampling the champagne had come first, naturally. After tai chi I was off to the spa. There, a hot stones massage, a dip in the hydrotherapy pool and a sauna made for a delightfully relaxing morning.

The iconic tubby windmills of Mykonos

I wafted back to our cabin feeling a little sheepish. For seven years my mother had wanted to go on a cruise and I’d ignored her. Now this week-long tour of the Greek islands on Seabourn’s luxury yacht, the Odyssey, was turning out rather well.

Mother was on our private balcony, enjoying a mid-morning hot chocolate courtesy of room service, something that had taken her a little while getting used to. (Her first call to the kitchen was so apologetic I was amazed they’d managed to extract her order from the “so sorry to disturb you”, “would it be at all possible”, “now, are you sure that’s all right” phrases it was embedded in).

I pulled up a chair and joined her. Across the water lay the coastline of Mykonos, dotted with whitewashed houses and the domes of hidden churches. The island’s emblematic windmills stood on a far off hill, their rickety sails and chubby, conical bodies silhouetted against the dazzling sky.

Mother said she’d stayed in the cabin because she wanted to make the most of our suite. Our room was so luxurious you could easily call it such. We had a sofa, small dining area, spacious granite bathroom (with dual basins, shower and a standard sized bath) plus what we soon realised was a real talking point among regular cruise-goers, a sizeable walk-in wardrobe.

And then there was the mini bar, stocked according to our choice, with not a mini bottle in sight.

“I can’t possibly get through that!” Mother exclaimed, spotting the Baileys I’d requested on her behalf. (There was a whole litre).

“You don’t have to drink it all!” I replied, although it seemed a shame.

As we’d tried to control our delight (since we were, at this stage, still dockside in Istanbul) Anita our “stewardess” knocked on our door.

She entered with a smile and a choice of soaps before whipping out a notepad to jot down any additional (alcoholic) requests. I couldn’t believe our luck. For the next seven days she left our suite immaculate, scattering chocolates, rosebuds, island guides, menus and Molton Brown toiletries in her wake.

There were 400 guests on board, a full ship, and with a staff to passenger ratio of almost one to one, Mother and I were in for an exclusive cruise. Our first taste of the high life came early on when champagne flowed freely (all drinks are included) at the Sail Away party round the pool bar. We toasted a week of decadence with bubbles and blinis as the Odyssey Quintet played us smoothly out of port. Gradually the minarets of Istanbul faded into the distance.

From then on what we did with our time was up to us, though there was a week of non-stop entertainment laid on if you wanted it with specialist talks, deck games and dance classes during the day, followed by cocktails, concerts and cabaret at night.

Alternatively you could just drift from whirlpool to sun lounger to al fresco bar, requesting an ice cream or a cool beer (or almost anything else) - as often as you pleased.

Although cruising isn’t all about food, it was easy to see how it could be. I spent my first breakfast wandering, aghast, round the various food counters. There were five choices of yoghurt, seven of fruit juice, nine of cereals and twelve of pastries, plus fresh fruit, smoothies, muffins, waffles, pancakes, cold meats, cheeses and numerous cooked alternatives. If I opted for bacon, did I want English, American or Canadian? If I fancied a doughnut should I plump for chocolate, sugar, custard, maple, cinnamon or just plain jam?

I bumped into an American lady whom noticing I couldn’t decide, suggested I tried a little of everything, before adding, rather sweetly I thought, that if I’d brought anything figure-hugging to wear I should “make sure to pop it on” at the beginning.

I thanked her for the tip and returned to the bewilderment of breakfast, settling on the day’s special: scrambled eggs with truffles served on a toasted brioche. I ate outside, overlooking the Byzantine-Genoese-Ottoman fortress of Mytilini; it seemed I wasn’t the only one confused that morning.

That afternoon Mother and I took the tender ashore for a leisurely stroll round the harbour before returning to the ship for tea. As John on the grand piano struck up (rather predictably) Tea For Two (although he did add a fair number of twinkly bits) waiters in white gloves swooped round circular coffee tables carrying silver teapots on trays draped with linen.

Again, the spread was incredible: miniature croissants with beef and horseradish, slithers of egg sandwich, fresh scones (with three choices of cream) strawberry tarts and black forest chocolate torte, plus all manner of teas, many with wonderfully exotic names.

Sipping earl grey and gazing back at Mytilini through the panoramic window was, I had to agree with Mother, “really rather lovely.”

I reached for another raspberry millefeuille, the cream oozing out from between layers of delicate pastry. But did my best not to indulge, for there were canapés in two hours and dinner in under three.

Ah dinner! No time to be shy! A jovial social host in immaculate black spotted us lingering at the door of The Restaurant; seconds later we were swept inside, on his arm, to dine at the table of the Argentinian chief engineer!

Although there were other dining options (Restaurant 2 with its taster menu, the open air Patio Grill and the bistro-style Colonnade) Mother and I grew rather fond of the main restaurant. A sweeping spiral staircase led down to its entrance, marked by shiny black and white floor tiles and orchids spilling out of tall vases. The décor was white and modern and the service exceptionally slick.

Of course, besides the ship, there was the shore, and as we settled into life onboard, we signed up for a few excursions. One of our favourites was the ancient city of Ephesus in Turkey (our first port of call). Here, after a day spent wandering through the ruins, Seabourn laid on a complimentary open-air concert complete with wine and canapés. We sat under the stars as Bach and Brahms filled the ancient, floodlit amphitheatre.

Equally enjoyable was a trip to the hilltop Monastery of St John in Patmos with its frescoes, arched stonework and ecclesiastical treasures. From there a five-minute drive took us to the dimly lit grotto where the saint was said to have written the last book of the New Testament, Revelations. We squeezed into the cave, hallowed by ten centuries of pilgrims’ prayers. Candles flickered on narrow ledges and the air was sweet with incense.

On our last night we dined at a coveted table for two overlooking the sea. The menu offered a gala dinner with caviar, foie gras, grilled scallop, filet of beef and warm chocolate cake. And yes, so much champagne that I actually had to decline.

Back at our cabin it was time to pack and return to a life without stewardesses, social hosts and seven course dinners. But for Mother there was still one indulgence left. She picked up the phone: “Room service? Could I have a hot chocolate please?” She spoke with a clarity and confidence that could have fooled anyone.

Seabourn cruises: www.seabourn.com

Seven day Turkish Delights & Greek Isles cruise on the Seabourn Odyssey from Istanbul to Athens, via Lesbos (Mytilini), Kusadasi (for Ephesus), Mykonos, Rhodes, Patmos and Mylos £1,599 pp all inclusive. Excursions cost extra.

Seabourn Odyssey offers a casino, card room, club, Grand Salon and Seabourn Square with lounge, library and computers (with wifi). There are also two al fresco bars, shuffleboard courts, a 9-hole contoured golf putting green and several restaurants (all with free seating policies). The spa is the largest on any luxury cruise ship, and has a hydro-pool, sauna, steam rooms and Kinesis wall. Treatments are extra.