The flat, salty Mediterranean. The simple pleasure of successfully ordering a coffee, and perhaps a morsel to eat, in another language. The mellowness of the sun in the late afternoon. The scent of hot timeworn stone tinged with tobacco. Knowing that when you order a glass of house wine al fresco at dinner it will arrive soft and drinkable with length just like the evening itself.
These are some of the moments I missed about Europe during that interminably long stretch where it had never seemed further away. And these are some of the moments I get to experience again over just five days’ sailing aboard Azamara’s new ship . The name is apposite, of course: a signal of intent. Departing Barcelona (but not before I’ve wound my way through the backstreets of
