LOOKING OVER THE balcony of my cabin at the cold, grey waters off Newfoundland, I hear the Queen Mary 2 bell ring. It peals at noon every day but for me, this day, it's the sound of history. For about now, we're passing the wreck of the Titanic.
The Titanic was big. The QM2 is bigger - three times the size, and the jewel in Cunard's not inconsiderable crown. Sailing from New York to Southampton, I wonder how the Atlantic waves can support such a massive vessel, the largest, longest, widest and tallest ocean liner ever seen.
Its 17 decks are equivalent to 23 storeys, and it's the length of four football fields.
But not only does the sea support the ship, it embraces it. Even the least romantic of us could see that the QM2 and the Atlantic Ocean were made for each other.
Closing the glass doors, I step back inside my cabin, a state room that's as calm as the waters around us, and wander down the long - but far from claustrophobic - corridor and around the public decks. The bell has faded, but new sounds emerge.
Here's the music of a Caribbean band, cheering up the occasionally chill air of an outside café.
Elsewhere, a harpist's delicate tones are the perfect accompaniment to afternoon tea. Then there's the dance music, accompanying the daily beginners' lessons from professionals Nicola and Jacek, strictly for anyone.
My new friend Graham, not a bad mover and keen to get some practice in, befriends a Southern Belle.
Dotty's a bit of a raver, and despite being a tad older at 82, gives Graham a run for his money all week. Who needs Emma Bunton?
Me, I'm a bit of a wallflower.
Never the most graceful of souls, there's no way I could've managed even a gentle Foxtrot in the first couple of days, before getting my sea legs. And after that, well, there's so much competing entertainment on the QM2 I felt able to leave the elegant to their activity.
And it's not just the passengers who are elegant.
The QM2's halls, lobbies and staircases are all richly decorated with art. The atmosphere is genteel, but never stuffy, welcoming rather than oppressive. There's even unexpected humour - the Grand Lobby features four friezes representing the "most significant" parts of the world and if you study the US images closely you'll spot, alongside such things as the Statue of Liberty, White House and Space Shuttle, a familiar figure watching television .
.. Homer Simpson.
Ah yes, the lobby. It's the first thing you see as you board the ship and grand is the word, with that sumptuous décor and a sweeping staircase that's perfect for making an entrance. And no matter how casual you may consider yourself, at some point on the voyage you will want to make an entrance.
Once you're clad in your finest gown or spiffiest suit, ready for one of the formal evenings, you'll want to be seen. Just go with it, and strut on down to one of the ship's fine dining areas.
For me, fine dining has previously meant a napkin with my Gregg's bridie, but on the QM2 it's something else, with every evening an occasion.
Even I found something magical about a night that begins with cocktails with the captain, continues with a magnificent dinner, moves on to a show that wouldn't shame London's West End and ends with a moonlight stroll on deck.
There are several restaurants, and while there are different tariffs, no passenger receives less than first-class food and service. I was in the ornate Princess Grill, and was treated like a king by the waiting staff, who didn't at all mind me occasionally splashing soup down my natty new dress shirt.
Well, I did say I wasn't the most graceful of men, and this was my first voyage. And yes, that's "voyage", not "cruise" - cruises stop along the way, but with a voyage, it's not where you're taken that matters, it's the experience of the ship itself. And even the folk I met who'd sailed on her previously considered a stay on the QM2 the trip of a lifetime.
Statistics can never tell the whole story, but they make an intriguing first chapter: the QM2, whose maiden voyage was just three years ago, cost £550 million, has 1,310 passenger cabins, a crew of 1,253, the largest ballroom at sea, a library, sports centre, theatre, spa, 14 bars and clubs, more than £3.5m of artworks ..
. and every year passengers and crew nibble their way through 420,000 packets of cereal, 1,728,000 eggs, 249,000lb of potatoes, and drink 55,000lb of coffee, enough tea to fill an Olympic pool, and use enough toilet roll to wrap around the earth five times.
It's safe to say you won't be bored here.
There's something to do from first light to moonlight, and it's not all organised - you can always borrow a jigsaw or game if you want to relax quietly, or just lounge on the deck, take the air and watch the water - and joggers - go by. An enormous number of people take advantage of the promenade deck for their daily exercise - three laps equals 1.1 miles.
And you'll see all types on board: contrary to my expectations, this isn't a trip only for people with pots of money. Yes, to some the cost of a crossing was but a drop in the ocean, but for others it amounted to their life savings. So you saw everyone from British aristocrats (if you're reading this, Lord "Bingo", I hope you find that wife you're after) to young families from Livingston.
And as Cunard operates a cashless policy, with everything charged to your credit card, you're never going to see any of the better-off people flashing their money.
Once I'd found those sea legs, the days settled into a rhythm I'd never find on the dance floor. A typical day involved a quick trip to the gym or pool to work off the previous night's meal, a leisurely breakfast, a RADA acting class, a lecture on the world's dung production (did it have to be pre-lunch?
), a look around the rather swish Mayfair shops, a long lunch, a visit to the world's only floating planetarium, a trip to the tea dance (for tea and a platter of cakes, you understand), a comic murder mystery with cruise director (I know we're not on a cruise, but that's his title!) Alastair Greener and other members of the entertainments team, a dance contest with a fantastic 1940s-style big band, and a raid on the late-night buffet ..
.
Does it all sound too exhausting? It's not, because every one of these activities is relaxing.
And while the ship is indeed huge, you're never far from your cabin if you need a lie down. My suite was so comfy it almost constituted an attraction in itself - plush bed, satellite TV, great view, personalised stationery - all it lacked was the odd dance band. Mind you, had I asked, I'm sure Ana, my lovely cabin steward (one of the bonuses to travelling Grill rather than Britannia class), would have done her best to get a bongo player or two to me.
Some passengers made their own entertainment. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Guest Talent Show.
While the Ents staff and guest acts did a thoroughly professional job, amateur afternoon was thrillingly bad.
There were four acts, opening with an English lady who told us she was going to give us that pop classic, Benny Hill's Ernie (the fastest milkman in the West). Her novel choice was made all the more so by a decision to recite, rather than sing, said standard, in a Pam Ayres accent, and by an inability actually to read the words she held before her.
She was followed by a rich American Liberace lookalike (though he was marginally more alive) who was on his 12th ocean journey of the year.
Such a life obviously gives him plenty of time to practise his singing, piano and breathing exercises, as he proved in a rendition of This is My Moment, in which he moved up the scale with each line. It was indeed his moment, and boy, did it go on as, one by one, eardrums burst.
The third act was a leering Brit who declared that he wished to entertain "the children" with his own playful version of The Owl and the Pussycat.
("It's the Child-Catcher!" whispered Graham.) As Americans resisted the urge to pelt him for his assertion that they wouldn't have heard of Edward Lear, he began.
The comic conceit entailed, every now and then, replacing words such as "boat" with terms appropriate to our holiday. Such as "Cunard vessel".
It was all going so well until he forgot a line and yelled an F-word - but on he went, seemingly oblivious to his outburst.
By now the pea-green boat was well and truly sunk, and he sloped off to polite/stunned applause.
As "the children" came out from behind their mothers' skirts, the final act arrived. Entertainment officer Jo introduced him as "the act we've all been waiting for!
" and on came ...
Liberace. Again. With his toupéed older brother, who demonstrated just how difficult it is to make a showman's leap onto the stage while wielding a zimmer frame.
How could Liberace top his previous Moment? With that classic Fiddler on the Roof number, To Life. Which I never realised was quite such a long song.
And, wouldn't you know it, Liberace turned out not to be the loudest member of his family.
So yes, in any fair definition of entertainment, this show was bad. But, tears streaming down my face, I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
And that sums up my experience on the Queen Mary 2 - unmissable.
Cunard's six-day New York to Southampton (or Southampton to New York) crossing includes a one-way flight and a night in a New York hotel. Extra nights in New York can be arranged.
Prices start from £799 for the Britannia tariff, with Princess Grill suites from £2,379 and Queen's Grill suites from £3,239. Tel: 0845 071 0300 or visit
Don't miss the view of Manhattan as the QM2 passes under the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge.
Todd English is the ship's à la carte eatery, masterminded by the US celebrity chef.
It serves the most ambitious food onboard and is the only restaurant that charges - but it's a snip at £17.
Illuminations Planetarium is an amazing space featuring such NASA-endorsed films as Cosmic Collisions and Infinity Express, with commentaries by the likes of Robert Redford and Laurence Fishburne.
The Oxford Lecture Series - themes vary with the trip, but our biodiversity series was fascinating.
Attend several and get a snazzy certificate.
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