Yesterday you explored one destination. Tomorrow you'll discover another. And this morning, before you have even opened your eyes properly, you are somewhere you have never been.
It is a strange and wonderful thing, that first look out of the window. A harbour arranging itself in the early light. Hills you cannot yet name. A town that has been going about its business for centuries and has no idea you have arrived.
There is no packing. No airport. No working out how to get from one place to the next. The distance simply happens while you sleep, and what you are left with is the part that matters — the arriving.
People often tell me they had never thought about cruising this way. They imagined a ship. What they discover is a rhythm: curiosity in the morning, discovery through the day, and company in the evening to tell it all to.