It’s a dream come true for many men of a certain age; the idea of having your very own bat cave to retreat to during an exotic cruise to some distant lands. If you had a treehouse as a kid, or even just a secret den in some patch of grassy scrub, then this one is going to resonate with you for sure.
First, you’ll need one of these things, seen in the picture at left. It looks suspiciously like a cross between a clam shell and an escape capsule, jettisoned from some aborted lunar mission. But- trust me on this one- these things are the most comfortable and indulgent cruising invention since the simple brilliance of the steamer chair.
These particular ones have mushroomed along one of the deck areas of Silversea’s salubrious Silver Whisper. Climbing into one is somewhat akin to entering a marriage of convenience; easy enough to get into, but damned difficult to get out of.
So, there you are. Slouched in your bat cave- I mean pod. Your first mission is to control access to your domain at all times. Bear in mind that there will always be others that envy your sense of exclusive, serene repose; you must be prepared to repel all boarders ruthlessly, and at a moment’s notice.
For this purpose, i recommend that you carry a small, portable electric cattle prod. My personal preference would, naturally, be to erect a jedi-style force field around the perimeter, but sadly I neglected my jedi training at about the same time that I discovered reggae and ska. So, a simple electric cattle prod it will have to be.
Do not make the mistake of assuming that everyone who approaches your bat cave is a would be aggressor, mind you, On my Silversea cruise, there were several lovely young ladies and gentlemen who approached, bearing gifts of champagne, nachos and even fried onion rings, These delightful offerings were placed on the small altar in the centre of my bat cave, and replenished as needed. Ah, the life of a would be superhero is always a series of agonising choices….
However, the one thing you do need to remember is your sense of anonymity. Red speedos and a long, flowing cape can be a bit of a giveaway (unless you’re on a cruise originating in California) so, instead, I recommend that you wear comfy white slippers. Oh, and a nice terry bath robe. The latter can easily be discarded like lightning to reveal that fetching superhero costume below but, in the meantime, go for the understated look. As one famous leader of the French ray-zis-tance once put it, you should be able to ‘disappear like a phantom’ if required.
I also recommend that you take the precaution of attaching a baggage label, complete with your name and cabin number, to your right wrist. Even the most vigilant public saviour will grow weary and distracted under the constant, merciless barrage of champagne glasses that magically materialise in your bat cave. A label such as this will greatly assist the unfortunate crew members that have to pour you back into your actual, real cabin at some stage.
Also, please remember that, like a puppy, a bat cave is not just for Christmas. But best not to become too emotionally involved with your bat cave; alas, you cannot take it home with you.
For a start, it will never fit; not even in the big case…..