You know how some people are irrationally afraid to fly? No matter how many statistics you throw at them about how safe our airline industry truly is, how statistics show that you’d have to fly every day for 19,000 years before you’d have a fatal crash, they’d still be terrified to fly?
That’s me. Only with cruises.
I can not imagine that being trapped on a huge petri dish, floating in the middle of the ocean, miles from any civilization can be considered relaxing and fun. Tiny cramped quarters, bumping into the same people over and over, with no Starbucks in sight? Not my idea of a good time.
My husband has even dangled a Disney Cruise over my head. In a weak moment, I checked it out. Disney nut that I am, I considered their 3 day cruise. For about 32 seconds. And then I came to my senses.
I’m well aware that my fears are irrational. I’m sure I could find website after website spouting statistics assuring me how safe it is to sail the wide open seas. That Norwalk virus is not just contained on cruise ships. That I won’t be robbed, bored or stuck eating with strangers. It will fall on deaf ears.
Every cruise disaster, I read or watch unfold with wide eyes and my stomach doing flip flops. Like a train wreck, I can’t look away. And my fears are satisfied.
Do you know what song was playing at one of the ship’s restaurants when the Costa Concordia’s hull split open?
Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” from the 1997 blockbuster movie “Titanic.”
I’m not kidding. Look it up.
And this is why I will never go on a cruise.