INSPIRED by a serpentine queue of Scottish religious devotees all waiting patiently at Glasgow Airport for their flight to Lourdes, I also began praying to God for a miracle.
Our plane to Frankfurt Airport had been delayed – leaving vanishingly little time for my family and I to catch our interconnecting flight to Athens once we reached that infamously sprawling German hellscape.
Further delays conclusively disproved the existence of any interventionist Judeo-Christian supreme being - my commiserations to those Lourdes devotees - so I hedged my bets and threw out a psychic plea on the cosmic phonelines to the Greek gods. At least, the ones I could remember. Zeus, obviously. Apollo, avenged by Rocky Balboa. Athena – her restaurant in Glasgow is fantastic.
Hopping on a later plane wasn’t an option – we had a cruise ship waiting for us at the ancient commercial port of Piraeus in Athens and even the clout of a brand as illustrious as The Herald would curry no favour with the punctual captain of the majestic Celestyal Journey.
It was on this ship that we were due to embark on a seven-night “Idyllic Aegean” odyssey where our pasty Coatbridge carcasses would be grilled in the exotic climes of Thessaloniki, Kusadasi in Turkey, Crete, Santorini, Mykonos, and Milos.
All familiar locales to the Greek Gods, who – perhaps because no-one has called upon their services for a while – took heed of my prayers and, possibly, intervened to get us to Athens.
The pilot of our delayed flight later admitted we had gained time due to some powerful and “unexpected” wind on our tail, allowing us to make our connecting flight with just minutes to spare. And I must admit that Aegean Airlines 737 touched down on Zeus’ old chessboard as smoothly as Pegasus himself.
Upon arrival at Porteus we were immediately relieved of our cumbersome baggage by Celestyal’s attentive staff before making a swift dash through port security. A newcomer to cruises, I was genuinely surprised at how little time it took to board the ship and be accompanied to our spacious, agreeably air-conditioned stateroom.
Celestyal’s majestic, mid-size vessel Journey – whose recent £20 million makeover has bestowed it with high-end textiles, rich hardwoods, gleaming brass and an abundance of polished copper – may only host around 1,100 passengers but its large 500-strong crew illustrates the Greek-based cruise company’s dedication to customer service.
The Journey boasts 630 rooms, including 149 with balconies, 120 junior suites and 28 luxury suites. And for passengers with the deepest of pockets, a stunning “Stargazer Suite” penthouse is available for gawping at the heavens as you thank them for your dizzying, enviable wealth.
Dining options are abundant, varied enough to please the many nationalities on board, with all venues taking advantage of the gloriously panoramic sea views with huge windows and tasteful, elegant lighting for when Helios decides to drag the sun away on his sky chariot.
As aesthetically individual as the Journey’s seven themed restaurants are, what all have in common is their wholehearted dedication to celebrating culinary specialities from their chosen corner of the planet.
And with top-tier hospitality provided by the waiting staff in each venue – most notably the professionalism and humour of the effervescent Peter in the Taverna buffet – passengers are guaranteed a feast of knowledgeable gastronomic gurus to run them through the menus.
And, of course, good food should be washed down by good drink, so Celestyal has thoughtfully scattered eight bars around the ship, each with their own theme and speciality cocktails invigorated by the freshest of ingredients plucked straight from the ever-bounteous Greek islands.
Cruises can all too often be formal affairs when it comes to dining, but attire is a question of personal preference on the Journey – at least during the day.
Along with a few others on board I wandered around in a Tony Soprano-style white bathrobe with garish swimming shorts hidden underneath, should the compulsion to cool down between cocktails in one of the ship’s two sizable pool areas overwhelm me.
For Scots more inclined towards homesickness rather than hangovers on holiday, kilted bar manager JD will be a tonic in himself – a cheery, cheeky chappie who inexplicably identifies as Scottish, often broadcasting his thoughts in an indefinable Caledonian-inspired bark despite never having been to Scotland. Apparently his only formal education on our guttural monotone was a Braveheart DVD.
JD is also a magician and was generous enough to bequeath his skills to several barman colleagues who took great joy in bewildering my 10-year-old daughter Robyn with some impressive slight-of-hand card tricks.
Obviously enthused to meet authentic Jocks in the flesh, JD told me his greatest wish was to visit his spiritual homeland one day – a wanderlust which his well-travelled colleague, the ship’s omnipresent maître D’ Adrian Zamfir, once shared and has long since fulfilled.
An imposingly tall and roguishly charismatic Romanian, Adrian speaks eight languages and has lived and worked everywhere that’s anywhere. A lifetime of experience in cruise travel has seen him dock all around the globe – and, it just so happens, Scotland. Certainly, he stayed long enough to easily decipher my slang-strewn North Lanarkshire amphetamine mumble without Rosetta Stone.
As a man whose job is to satisfy the distinct palates of countless nationalities, Adrian’s unenviable remit on the Journey takes in the management of all the ship’s a la carte restaurants, such as his favourite venue Grill Seekers.
Here, after wheeling out a wardrobe-sized anti-pasti seafood selection that exposed every exhaustive possibility of aquatic evolution, he recommended I try wagyu steak for the main course.
Taking 20 minutes to prepare due to the necessity of maintaining a steady 77F temperature to perfectly melt the marbleised fat into the beer-saturated flesh, the steak fulfilled its destiny of setting my tastebuds alight with exquisite melt-in-the-mouth tenderisation. I quickly made it disappear like one of honorary Jock JD’s magic tricks.
Essentially a luxury all-inclusive resort on the water, depending on what hierarchy of exclusivity you’ve paid for (Sky’s The Limit is the top-tier package and very reasonably priced), Idyllic Aegean passengers can simply choose to stay onboard for the duration and indulge themselves until their stomachs or livers admit defeat.
And in that eventuality, fear not – an entire deck is dedicated to your recovery, with a well-equipped fitness suite, a luxury spa with highly-trained and friendly staff, a sizeable jogging track, sauna, steam room and jacuzzi.
Culture vultures – and lovers of camp musicals – are also well catered for with the spacious Amphitheatro Show Lounge hosting performances each night, from Abba-themed displays of vocal and dancing prowess to the seasoned performers of the globally-acclaimed Cirque Fantastic troupe, who take great joy in thrilling audiences with spectacular death-defying acrobatics.
Yet, despite the abundance of indulgent pleasures on board – including a casino should passengers feel lucky after a few refreshments and the currently favourable Euro exchange rate – it’s still all about the destination with Celestyal.
This a Greek cruise line, after all, so no-one else could possibly traverse the Aegean with comparative authority. 
And thanks to its svelte hull, Journey is able to access ports other Mediterranean behemoths can’t reach in a hop-on, hop-off style, with passengers able to join and depart the ship at whatever stop takes their fancy. All port fees and gratuities are part of the package.
These exotic destinations are not simply a convenient stop for excursions, however – they truly offer an opportunity to explore Greece’s wildly varied landscapes and appreciate the country’s incomparable archaeological legacy in the space of a short week at sea.
And because many departures are late at night, passengers are afforded plenty of time to get familiar with their latest port of call and, of course, create effortless TikTok or Insta clickbait if online likes are how you seek gratification.
Opting for two professionally guided tours over the duration, we first ventured to Kusadasi in Turkey where the 43 degree heat made our blood feel just like the bubbling lava from the volcanoes that long ago created the cracks and fissures that still heat the water in the nearby bay.
With enough Factor 50 on to survive a nuclear assault, we were quickly ushered away from the sun’s apoplectic rage into a spacious bus where the air-conditioning unit felt like as much a gift from the Gods as Promethius’ fire.
Our excellent guide made the half-hour to our destination pass quickly with tales of Turkey’s turbulent history and troubled relationships with their ancient Greek frenemies. Feeling like a walking Wikipedia page on historic Mediterranean territorial beefs, I now felt ready to truly appreciate the iconic Hellenistic ruins of Ephesus, a wonder of the ancient world.
This astonishing site – once the second-largest city in the world – has been steadily unearthed over the past century after a local farmer accidentally discovered the top of an ancient amphitheatre and alerted the authorities.
Famous for the Temple of Artemis, one of the Seven Ancient Wonders of the World, the 15% of the city that has been excavated conclusively confirms that wealthy Romans lived their lives much the way we do today – shopping, eating, drinking, and praying for forgiveness.
They certainly had a lot more public toilets however, probably to stop the hoi polloi urinating on the stunning half-mile-long stretch of vividly colourful marble mosaic pavement.
Many historians believe Saint John wrote his Gospel while in Ephesus, and – when the Virgin Mary was dying – he took her to the green hills of nearby Selcuk and laid her to rest.
Her exact burial spot on this lofty peak was apparently kept a secret – for obvious reasons – but the “House of the Virgin Mary”, where she allegedly stayed in the months before her death, does still exist.
Thankfully, we didn’t have to endure the gruelling walk to this holy place, but it still felt somewhat sacrilegious being propelled by combustion engine in an air-conditioned steel cylinder rather than making such a pilgrimage authentically on the back of a donkey.
No doubt those poor folk I spotted queuing for the Lourdes plane back in Glasgow would have been envious either way.
Mary’s alleged final home is a suitably modest abode where tourists can queue to enter and either light a candle for her eternal soul or simply do it to avoid looking like a heretic. I lit one and prayed for a torrent of hailstones to cool me down – the blazing midday sun without the respite of shade was bad enough but the €9 I was charged for a single solitary scoop of pistachio ice cream on this hallowed ground had me muttering some very unholy words.
Our second guided trip was to Milos, famed globally for its rugged coastline and unique lunar-like landscapes which are home to Sarakiniko, Tsigrado and Kleftiko, three of the most spectacular beaches in Greece.
This excursion also took in the site of the Venus De Milo’s discovery – a spot now marked by a replica due to the scurrilous French “relocating” it to the Louvre. The legendary sculpture was unearthed in April 1820 by – yet another – Greek farmer in the village of Trypiti, which also boasts one of the largest Christian catacomb sites in the world.
We then stopped off for a bite to eat and to take in the panoramic views over the island at the majestic hilltop town of Plaka, where everyone smokes but not a single cigarette end pollutes the pristine, labyrinthine streets. Maybe they inhale the whole thing in Greece. It wasn’t all perfect though – an alleged “sausage roll” had nothing on Greggs.
This minor gastronomic disappointment didn’t quite leave me pining for home, but with our cruise coming to an end we thought we had better make the most of our final night on board before our inevitable return to Scotland and attend the big finale “Greek Gods” musical in an attempt to actually learn something about the country which had hosted us.
What struck me about this “grand finale” spectacular was that it – consciously or subconsciously – perfectly reflected the ship’s multicultural make-up in microcosm, the show itself being an inclusive extravaganza featuring performers from countless cultural heritages projecting a united surge of joy from the stage.
The jubilant atmosphere was illustrative of how the Journey is its very own 'perfect world' in miniature, hosting a wildly diverse community all performing in harmony – culminating in not only an authentically Greek experience but one accentuated and complemented by rich global influences. The Gods, if there are any just ones, must surely have been smiling down.
I may have visited the Virgin Mary’s graveside and – perhaps – experienced divine interventionism by Greek Gods on my flight from Glasgow, but unlike those poor souls I watched queuing to experience a miracle in Lourdes, I was not in search of any evidence of divinity. Heaven on Earth already exists and everyone can experience it on their own Idyllic Aegean odyssey.
■ Prices for the seven-night ‘Idyllic Aegean’ departing from Athens on Celestyal Journey in 2025, with full days in Kusadasi (Ephesus), Rhodes, Crete, Mykonos, Santorini and Milos, are currently on sale from £709pp (down from £1420pp). See www.celestyal.com
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