This Is Not a Review of Celebrity Reflection
I was at my desk working on a Black Friday deals article when my friend Vanessa called. She had found something unusual: a four-night sailing aboard Celebrity Reflection leaving the Monday after Thanksgiving.
When we did the math, the cruise was practically cheaper than staying home in Miami. Traditionally, the week after Thanksgiving is a quiet moment in the travel calendar when many people are heading home or settling back into work, rather than starting a vacation. (Your experience may vary.)
Within minutes we were comparing calendars. A few clicks later, the trip was booked. My total came out to just under $200 for an interior stateroom, single occupancy.
The last of Celebrity Cruises’ Solstice-class ships, Celebrity Reflection is not completely unknown to me. In a previous life, I had worked closely with two of the ship’s godmothers, Helen O’Connell and Rosey Rodriguez. Celebrity had chosen four of its own employees to serve as godmothers of Reflection in 2012. It was a departure from the celebrity christenings that many ships receive, and recognized all four godmothers for their work in fighting breast cancer.
But until this cruise, I had never sailed on Reflection.
One Small Errand
Four nights on a ship this size wouldn’t be enough time to experience everything. Trying would only turn the trip into a checklist.
So, we didn’t try. Instead, we agreed on two simple things: dinner every night and one specialty restaurant.
Everything else was left to the whim of the moment.
Once aboard we grabbed lunch in the buffet, where Vanessa casually mentioned she had an acupuncture appointment in the spa at 5. She had already slipped effortlessly into cruise mode.
Back in my cabin, I unpacked; hung my clothes in the closet; slid my empty roller under the bed; and stacked the mineral waters I had brought aboard in the mini-refrigerator. Celebrity’s beverage policy allows passengers to bring as many non-alcoholic drinks as they can carry, and I had arrived with a medium suitcase half filled with San Pellegrino.
Regular water will not touch these lips on this short cruise.
With a couple of hours to wander on my own, I stepped back out into the ship. I needed to cancel the Chef’s Table by Daniel Boulud reservation I had made before the cruise. That took me aft toward the Ensemble Lounge, the heart of the ship’s specialty dining neighborhood. Around it sat Murano, Tuscan Grille, Qsine, and Blu.
In another version of this cruise, we might have spent a night in each of them. As it turned out, canceling that reservation would be the closest I came to those restaurants all trip.
Vanessa and I met for dinner in the Opus Dining Room later, and then called it an early night.
Key West Paces
We arrived in Key West just after seven the next morning. As soon as the gangway opened, I stepped ashore and went for a run.
Early morning in Key West has its own rhythm. A couple of establishments on Duval Street seemed caught somewhere between closing and opening, but the charming town felt bright and easy in the rising sun. Garbage trucks emptied public receptacles; delivery trucks rolled kegs down sidewalks; and a postal worker pedaled by on a bicycle blasting “Eye in the Sky” through a Bluetooth speaker.
I kept pace with him until the song ended.
The town was impressively clean, although I did pass two perfectly good abandoned meals — three quarters of a pepperoni pizza in one spot and, a little farther along, a partially bitten Wendy’s burger and fries.
Both looked surprisingly intact… spilled on the ground.
I briefly considered my options. But I had something better in mind that morning.
Twenty minutes later, I was back in my stateroom rinsing off the run.
The Interior Cabin Case
My cabin was an interior room on Deck 7, Stateroom 7158. I’ve always liked interior cabins. They’re quiet, dark when you want them to be, and perfectly sufficient for a short cruises. With my suitcase tucked under the bed, the room felt more than spacious enough for one.
Stepping out of the shower, I inserted my feet into a pair of hotel slippers – my personal comfort item that I always pack to make a cabin feel a little more like home.
Aside from the vanity and dresser with its mini-refrigerator, the room had a narrow, two-level shelf tucked between the mirror and the television. A cruise-size loveseat splayed opposite.
One feature I particularly liked was the overhead storage compartment above the bed. I never ended up using it, but it was a clever bit of extra space.
Considering I was surrounded by layers of ship steel, the Wi-Fi was excellent — crucial, really. I streamed Netflix, listened to NPR, kept up with social media, and checked emails without noticing any lag.
I donned on a white linen shirt and headed upstairs to the buffet, where my hopes were fulfilled: black pudding, bangers, and scrambled eggs, on which I ladled sausage gravy.
I effortlessly found a table; opened my phone; and worked through emails while the ship slowly emptied into port.
Before long Vanessa texted. We were meeting at 11.
Lunch Across the Water
The night before, we had decided to cross the water to Sunset Key, just across from Key West, for lunch. The private island resort allows outside visitors to dine at Latitudes Restaurant with a reservation, and their ferry conveniently departs from the cruise pier.
Seated waterside, on Latitudes’ terrace overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, we shared honey-roasted brussels sprouts and a fresh salad topped with blackened grouper.
After lunch we walked along Sunset Key’s shoreline and looked back toward Key West. On one side sat the towering hull of Celebrity Reflection. Nearly bow-to-bow with it was the much smaller American Pioneer.
For a moment, the entire spectrum of cruising sat across the water in front of us.
Back on board, we wandered into one of the ship’s Park West art auctions. It was my first cruise-ship art auction. The auctioneer, Lea from South Africa, handled the room with a kind of confidence that made my knees weak.
Somewhere during the auction, the ship slipped quietly away from Key West. By the time we stepped out, Mallory Square had already disappeared behind us.
That evening, we kept things simple with dinner at the buffet, before heading to the theater for the headliner show, featuring illusionist Pablo Canovas.
Lady’s Luck and a Ring
After the show, we wandered through the shopping corridor called the Galleria Boutiques.
One jewelry store was running a contest, inviting passengers to guess the weight of the gem of a yellow diamond ring. Vanessa and I both put in our guesses.
The winner would be announced the next afternoon at four.
Win what?
I wasn’t entirely sure, and I felt inadequate to ask.
The next afternoon, we managed to make it ashore for a walk in Bimini.
But we were watching the clock, keeping in mind that we had somewhere to be at four.
Back on board, the jewelry boutique was packed for the announcement of the yellow diamond contest winner.
The manager announced the winning guess.
We scanned the room from corner to corner.
No takers.
So, they moved to the next closest guess without going over.
It wasn’t me.
But, it was Vanessa.
Some girls have all the luck.
Her prize turned out to be a rather fancy jewelry cleaning and repair kit. I had quietly hoped we were winning the ring.
Progressively Dining
We dined at Sushi on Five, our agreed-on specialty dinner, that night. The table quickly filled with dishes — lobster wonton, ramen, nigiri omakase, and green tea between courses. To be frank, I lost track of all the beautiful plates laid in front of us. But, again, our table was filled with friendliness, efficiency, and just great service.
Finishing with mochi ice cream, we headed to the theater for a comedy set by Julie Barr.
After the show, we noticed that the Opus Dining Room was still seating… and still serving.
So, we slipped back in and topped the night off with tiramisu.
A Sea Day Does What It Wants
By the fourth day, I had my routine. I wandered to the buffet for coffee. And when the caffeine hits my veins, it’s English breakfast time.
Post-breakfast this morning, however, I found an empty daybed in the Solarium overlooking the sea. Without a pause, I nestled in and plugged away at my phone.
Vanessa eventually found me.
By then, it was almost lunchtime. Uncued, we followed our fellow passengers and corralled at the entrance of Oceanview Café.
When the doors opened, we flowed in. Vanessa headed for the shrimp tower. I floated to the fried chicken and papadum.
One plate became two, then three.
Vanessa watched my stack build with increasingly mocking horror.
Evening Football At Sea
For our final dinner, we returned to the Opus Dining Room.
Throughout the cruise, we never once waited more than a minute for a table for two. Aside from our dinner at Sushi on Five, we hadn’t planned our evenings at all.
A small team, maybe five dedicated people, seemed to manage our entire section with coordination, precision and smiles.
That night, I kept things simple and ordered the sirloin, medium. Vanessa chose the Cajun-spiced drum fish. We each had a glass of white wine, though Vanessa had an fragrant Antichi Vigneti Chardonnay, recommended by the sommelier, that I secretly coveted.
But, tonight was going to be more intentional. Vanessa had done a little research before dinner, and she had a date with Thursday Night Football. It was the one thing she didn’t want to miss.
Soon enough, we pushed back from the table and wandered out toward the casino bar.
A small crowd had gathered in the casino bar where televisions were showing the game between the Dallas Cowboys and the Detroit Lions. It’s a nice touch that Celebrity carries licensed NFL broadcasts on board. Even in the middle of the ocean, passengers can still find the game.
During a commercial break, I wandered out of the casino and into the small cluster of shops just outside. The stores offered everything from sundries and liquor to tobacco and casual resort wear.
My money was safe.
At halftime, we headed upstairs to the Lawn Club.
We had heard the game was also playing on the large outdoor screen on the top deck. But by the time we arrived, the flanking cabanas were already full. All seats taken, but the field of grass lay vacant.
Undeterred, we grabbed pool towels and stretched out right in the center of the Lawn Club.
It felt like we had the whole top deck to ourselves.
It wasn’t something we planned.
But then again, almost nothing about this cruise was.
Which – come to think of it – was the whole point.
And so, we watched the second half under a full moon, maybe tanning from the oversized screen’s radiance, and knowing that somewhere out there, beyond our little patch of grass at sea, were all the other ways to cruise.
