I'm lucky enough to be crossing the Atlantic in one of Queen Mary 2's Princess Grill suites. That's not quite the top spot - there are Queens Grill suites passengers above me, but it's still a nice position to be in.
It's not the biggest stateroom I've ever had - that honour has to go to the fabulous Owner's Suite I had on Silversea - but it is spacious and there is more storage space than I have in my bedroom at home, with a walk-in closet, two big wardrobes and plenty of shelves.
My selection of clothes looks very meagre (I'm keeping the closet door shut in the hope the room steward won't see!) but I'm only on board for a week; for the world cruise passengers could be on for four months.
On one wall there's a glass cabinet that is, surprise, surprise, full of glasses. I am intrigued to know what happens to them in rough weather but honestly am happy never to find out!
There is also a lovely big sofa, a rubber strip all around the sill of the stateroom door so it closes with a sort of sigh rather than slamming - a great touch - and joy of joys, no net curtain. Actually that's not quite true. There is one, but my room steward, Reneboy, has never closed it, for which I am very grateful.
I've never understood why you pay huge amounts of money for cabins with sea views, only for the view to be obscured by a piece of net. In fact, my first task on entering a cabin with a net curtain is to tuck it out of the way.
The best room stewards - for which read Bella in Swan Hellenic's Minerva - catch on and leave them open, but most just operate on auto-pilot and shut them as trained.
There was a bottle of fizz waiting in the cabin to welcome me on board and bottled water is provided free, which are both nice touches.
But there are also some disappointments with the cabin. I have a chunky TV, and no DVD, rather than the sleek new flat-screen model I would expect in a ship that sells itself as luxury.
"I suppose it's a problem if you want to spend your time watching DVDs," one of my table companions said disdainfully. Actually I don't - I've not even had time to put on the TV these past two days - but it's a question of expectations. And again, Cunard is pitching itself in the luxury market.
Also, while I have no end of wine glasses, there is no corkscrew. I had to call room service for one and it arrived with incredible speed on a silver tray. I asked the waitress whether she wanted to do the honours, but she apologised and said she didn't open bottles. Luckily, it is one of my skills.
Neither is there a stopper to keep an opened bottle of wine fresh, which seems especially strange to me given I use one at home with "Cunard" written on the top.
Some nice plump pillows on the bed would be nice too. I have four rather deflated ones that are so small they can all fit abreast across the double bed.
"They are a rather small, but at least as we are cruising alone we can stack them up to make a back rest for reading in bed," Edward, a fellow single traveller, told me. He is one of 500 so-called in-transit passengers, out of about 2,450 people on board, which is a rather strange term used to mean they are doing a return transatlantic crossing.
He's right, of course, but it's not quite the same as sinking into a stack of deep, soft pillows like you do on other less classy ships. I wait to hear news of a refurb!
Jane Archer
