On the deck of the Millenium at sunset

So much has happened since we left Venice - it already seems like a lifetime since we were there. This morning we arrived in Rhodes, but I haven't even written about the first day at sea yet, so let's go back a few days. We had dinner in one of the more formal restaurants, where you sit at a table with other people, which I wasn't keen on. I discovered a huge difference between Ben and me; that he's a lot more social and outgoing than I realized. He feels uncomfortable, apparently, with silence amongst strangers, so he keeps up a constant stream of engaging chatter, which sort of left me, Bill and Stefan feeling a little bit like a dumb supporting act. At one point, I started to say something, and Ben interrupted me with another outburst. He immediately stopped himself, and apologized, but I didn't care to repeat what I'd been going to say. I ended up feeling a little distant from him for the rest of the evening. But later that night, we talked about it, and cleared the air, and came to a clearer understanding of our various ways of approaching social situations.

Venice, against the sunset, as we steam out

Ben at the golden hour as we depart from Venice

The day after we departed, we got up fairly early to look out on the Aegean in the morning sunlight. We have a pretty decent cabin on the Celebrity Millenium (one of the biggest passenger ships in the world), with a private balcony. I can't imagine, now, not having the balcony; it's so nice to go out there and watch as we near port, or watch the sun go down, or the moon rise, and hear the soothing woosh of the passing seas.

We had breakfast with Bill and Stephan in the Ocean Cafe (which offers a buffet nearly all day long), then worked out in the fairly large onboard gym. It was crowded, as you'd expect on the first day out at sea on a gay cruise ship. At several points, the circuit breakers blew as too many treadmills were in use at one time - this gym was clearly designed for straight cruise-goers.

The afternoon, of course, was spent on the pool deck. Lying by a pool is far from being one of my favorite activities. I never feel good in beachwear, for one thing. And for another, I'm too restless to just lie there for hours, even if I have a book. Sometimes I really feel my separatedness from most other people. When they had pool games, involving two volunteers fighting with bean bags to knock each other off a pole, I couldn't see what was so endlessly fascinating about it. Yet almost everybody on the pool deck was up, watching, and laughing as if they'd never seen anything so funny.

Quite unexpectedly, I started to experience acute attacks of insecurity. In fact, they've become a frequent companion on this cruise so far, and I've begun to realize that I have a serious problem. I didn't at all enjoy the afternoon by the pool, and was glad when we decided to go back to our cabin to take a nap. I don't particularly feel like delving into all this now. Thankfully, there have been enough wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime experiences on the cruise to more than counterbalance the episodes of insecurity. On balance, this has been an amazing trip so far.

In the early evening, there was a "Dog-Tag" tea-dance, where you put a colored sticker on your dog-tags to indicate your relationship status: single (green), married (red), or married but available (yellow). Bill, Stefan and Ben had all bought army fatigue pants to wear, and I'd bought, for some reason, some Paul Frank boxer-briefs made out of fatigue material, which I was persuaded to wear. It must have worked, because I got a lot of compliments on my underwear.

The big event of the day, however, was the Venice Carnival Party, in the late evening, by the pool. Ben had brought his mask with him from home, whereas I'd bought mine in Venice. Ben wore red, tight-fitting, low-hung workout pants while I wore tight white 2Xist tights. We both wore body glitter. At this point, I realize, it sounds like I've suddenly lost leave of all my inhibitions, and to some extent, that's true. There was something tremendously liberating about being behind a mask. I felt young and invincible. The only problem was that since the mask covered my mouth I could only drink through a straw, and I couldn't kiss Ben. Once I found myself forgetting about the mask and trying to kiss Ben anyway, risking poking out his eye, I realised it wasn't going to work. Fortunately Ben had also bought an incredibly beautiful silver, god-like mask in Venice for a later party (still to come), and he let me wear it. It was an extremely flattering mask; unfortunately I only have a hard-copy photo of me in the mask (a photo taken by the onboard photographer).

We left the party around three-thirty in the morning and wandered, hand-in-hand, to the fore of the ship and lay on couches staring at the moon and the stars. The soft, warm, Mediterranean breeze felt senuous against my skin. It was another incredible, precious moment.

I'd only dress like this on a cruise ship with over two thousand gay men. Our costumes for the Venice Carnival Party.

The next day, on the day of the closing ceremonies of the Olypmics, in the early afternoon, we steamed into Piraeus, the port of Athens, passing nearby the Queen Mary 2. Athens spread out for miles, a white city, shimmering in the heat. I was the only one of us who'd been to Athens before, so I took up the role of tour guide, and led us via subway then foot to the Acropolis. This time I discovered some pathways up to the Acropolis I hadn't found last time: tiny, extremely narrow, winding, ancient streets.

Ben on the Acropolis

The Acropolis was positively baking in the sun, and I wished I could take my shirt off. I looked back at Ben climbing up the steps behind me, and for a second it took my breath away that such a cute man was all mine; he looked so good in his red tanktop. If he'd been a stranger to me, I'd have been transfixed, and envious of whomever had him as a boyfriend. There was another one of those unforgettable moments when we held each other looking out at the Acropolis.

On the Acropolis

A shot of Athens through an ancient hole in the wall of part of the Acropolis

The whole of the Acropolis behind me