Talk about life in the fast shipping lane! On a Saga cruise I discovered that 60 really is the new 40, and not for nothing do aficionados joke that SAGA stands for Sex-And-Games-for-the-Aged. What larks!
On my 21-day Holy Land Odyssey time whizzed by in a whirl of tango teas, rock 'n' roll nights, ping-pong, shuffleboard, line-dancing, aerobics, raunchy show times, box-office movies and amazingly intrepid excursions.
On a typical sea day aboard the luxurious Saga Ruby (525 passengers, 330 friendly staff and superb cabins), I learnt to cha-cha, won a quiz, played darts, attended two archaeology lectures, enjoyed a live classical concert and downed three champagne cocktails at a singles' party.
In fact, with Saga's heady mix of drinks receptions, ballroom sessions and smoochie piano melodies, it wasn't many days before some singles had become doubles and were sunset-gazing from the promenade deck.
The pace-makers must have been on turbo. And good luck to them.
As a novice OAP (widowed) I could hardly stand the pace.
One hour we'd be traipsing through a sweltering Libyan souk (market), slogging round the spectacular Roman ruins of Leptis Magna or getting squiffy in the wine vaults of Cadiz; the next we'd be back on board in the beauty salon for a blow-dry, puffing through a bums-and-tums workout or learning how to fold fancy serviettes.
One sweaty day, 39176C and rising, I straddled a camel to visit the pyramids of Giza, saw Tutankhamun's treasures in Cairo's Egyptian Museum, cruised down the Nile on a faluka and then, after a gruelling three-hour coach ride back to port, mustered the stamina to dance a conga round the deck during the midnight buffet.
We docked at various historic ports - including Valletta, Piraeus, Benghazi, Alexandria and Limassol, and roared off in air-conditioned coaches to enticing destinations such as the Palace of Knossos at Heraklion, the unending rows of immaculately tended war graves in the desert at El Alamein, and lovely Lindos in Rhodes, where I and a sprightly and undaunted 86-year-old managed all 130 steps up to the Acropolis.
On sea days, there was never a dull moment.
In the choral group, we ladies trilled, the basses boomed and the tutor, Liz, got us all swinging our hips to a jazzy number that went: "Let the motion of the ocean do all of the work".
Somewhat inappropriate when the ship started pitching across the Bay of Biscay and several singers, overcome by the motion of the ocean, had to make a discreet dash.
Punctuating the action were the fabulous gourmet banquets - think lobster thermidor, king prawns in spicy coconut sauce, sizzling steaks, racks of lamb, sticky puddings, mountains of salad and fruit.
We ate Moroccan, Italian, Spanish, Indian, Greek and Cajun, with shepherd's pie and a roast always available for less cosmopolitan cruisers.
Then there were the famous Saga teas with dinky sandwiches, gateaux galore, hot scones and cream, all accompanied by violins and tinkling pianos.
Paradoxically, we could attend talks titled Lose Ten Pounds In Ten Days and Fight The Fat Cell. On day 12, a note arrived in every cabin headed: "Did you know that the average cruiser gains two pounds a day?"
After working out what 21 days multiplied by two equalled, I was in such shock that I ran round the deck 10 times. Twice.
Presiding over all this hedonism and jollity was Captain Kees Spekman, whose seductive sing- song Dutch accent had all the females in a flutter.
One of the joys of cruising, of course, is togging up for the formal dinners, blinding bling-fests of sequins, lurex and diamante.
Believe me, Solomon in all his glory was nothing compared with us bespangled ladies on formal nights.
Incidentally, the kindness and consideration with which we were treated by the wonderful Filipino crew was exemplary.
And there are few holiday treats more enjoyable than being woken each morning by a beautiful Filipino steward entering your cabin with a pot of tea.
And so, yes, I did get to grips with cruising. It is fantastic fun, great for making new friends and such a treat, on calm days, to lounge on deck, sea swishing past, dipping into a book from the ship's excellent library and enjoying a noon tipple.
Nothing out there but ocean, frothy little waves, swooping gulls and, if you're lucky, the occasional glimpse of leaping dolphins.
Your only concern is why the zip has broken on your pink palazzo pants, which seem to have shrunk. Or whether to attend Waffle Night or the Gala Thai Buffet. Or both. - Daily Mail