I didn’t expect to make friends I hope to keep for a long, long time. I didn’t expect to have a profound reckoning with my relationship to my own lesbianism and womanhood. And that’s because of all the things that happened in the eight days I spent aboard the Summit - things I wasn’t remotely expecting.
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So I’m surprised to say I might actually travel with Olivia again, skeptical as I remain of cruise ethics in general. It’s a particularly ugly (and expensive) brand of tourism.
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And we have plenty of reasons to avoid cruises: Operators exploit their workers passengers experience alarmingly high rates of sexual assault and the ships destroy the environment, disrupt local communities, and generally disgorge terrifying crowds of oblivious and often racist white people into historic ports, where they can cause a few hours’ worth of chaos before sailing off to their next destination. Even though cruise companies are actively trying to capture the millennial dollar, which is sort of working, cruises still aren’t exactly a popular travel option for my peer group we tend to favor more “ authentic” travel experiences (whatever that means). And were it not for this story, there’s no way I would have voluntarily set foot on a cruise ship again. I’d been on one cruise before, also to the Caribbean, but I was too little at the time to really remember it. What I didn’t expect was everything else that would happen to me - and is still happening to me - thanks to this one little week in my otherwise pleasantly uneventful life.įor one thing, I didn’t expect to have nearly so much fun. I generally expected to meet some nice older ladies with interesting life stories, to explore the tensions of intergenerational lesbian culture and the fraught future of lesbian spaces, to laze about on a beach in the Virgin Islands and get to say I was swimming and sunbathing “for work.” When I reached out to Olivia, the company offered me a press ticket for one of its Celebrity-partnered cruises so that I could get a sense of how it's become one of the most successful lesbian companies of all time. Olivia, a groundbreaking women’s record label turned lesbian travel company, named for the hero of a Dorothy Bussy novel, has catered specifically to lesbian vacationers since its maiden voyage in 1990. I had only a vague idea of what to expect when I boarded the Celebrity Summit in April for a weeklong excursion to the Caribbean. Sure, I say, why not, thinking all the while: If any other 27-year-old lesbians could use a self-esteem boost, all they need to do, clearly, is get themselves on an Olivia cruise. I’m loose and light and a little sleepy from my second Corona and a blossoming sunburn. One of them tells me her friend thinks I’m really cute, and could she buy me a drink? I settle for some Kelly Clarkson, and after my screechy but enthusiastic rendition of “Since U Been Gone,” five (!) different women approach me, complimenting my performance. So far, she’s more than delivered, but the weak karaoke selection - not Dana’s fault! - is a rare low point on a trip that, four days in, has already slowly but surely begun to change my life. She’s technically my press handler, tasked with making sure I see the best that the tour operator, Olivia Travel, has to offer. “These choices are homophobic,” I tell my new friend Dana. I’m determined to do something showstopping, but our offerings are comically limited. Kitts they’re cheering for their new friends they’re here to have a good time.
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They’re mostly middle-aged or older they’re wearing brightly colored tourist T-shirts purchased on our excursion earlier today to St. The second dinner session has just let out, and the Rendezvous Lounge (which is as tacky as it sounds) is overflowing with lesbians. So I decide to wake the place up a little. It’s night four of the cruise - karaoke night - and everybody’s been picking slow, sad songs.