The world’s two biggest cruise ships moving to Europe

When I boarded the ship in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, for a week-long Caribbean cruise, I expected an unholy scrum. Not a bit of it. The boarding procedures involved the minimum of hassle and, with more than 2000 staff and crew, there was no shortage of helping hands.

True, the corridor on which my stateroom was situated was so long that my heart sank as I trudged along it, but the stateroom itself was a decent size, with a private balcony and all the facilities you would expect. I was ready to party.

For those inclined to talk to strangers of numerous stripes, the great joy of cruising is the people you meet, and here my fellow passengers were gloriously diverse. Women with babes in arms took breakfast next to wheelchair-bound nonagenarians. Whippet-thin joggers shared lifts with some of the fattest men on the planet. On the sun deck, a young man with "made in Dublin" tattooed in Gothic script on his back lay cheek by jowl with a white-haired old lady deep in Northanger Abbey. I chatted to postmen and pilots, pharmacists and plumbers, psychiatrists and primary school teachers.

The statistics speak volumes: about three-quarters were American, with a median age of around 45, but other parts of the world were well represented. Australians numbered about 150, with a similar number of Brits, French, Russians, Chinese, Indians, Japanese, Italians and fun-loving Finns.

There is something deliciously quirky about American cruise ships. In the daily news sheet, which runs to several pages, one regular item is get-togethers for FRIENDS OF DOROTHY and FRIENDS OF BILL W. Who are these lucky individuals, I wondered naively, and how have they acquired so many friends? It turns out to be a secret code for, respectively, lesbians and members of Alcoholics Anonymous.

When you see such a teeming mass of humanity, you realise that only snobs and shrinking violets recoil from sharing a holiday with strangers. Anyone who cannot find a soulmate on Oasis of the Seas is not looking hard enough. Six thousand chances to strike up a conversation, share a drink, part with a smile… it's a slam-dunk certainty, as they say in the US, that you will end up making new friends.

The one frustration - not a problem on a smaller ship - is keeping tabs on the friends afterwards. On my first day aboard I chatted to a lovely couple from Sydney and assumed I would bump into them again, but never did. I looked for them in the card room, the spa, the internet cafe, the casino, the champagne lounge, the jazz club, the ice-cream parlour, the Globe and Atlas pub, but they were nowhere to be seen. They were simply swallowed up in the constantly shifting crowd.

The vastness of the ship is matched by the plethora of the attractions on board. Where else could you find an ice rink in the middle of the Caribbean? Or be able to practise your surfing skills on a special slide, cresting real waves? Or drink in a bar that doubles as a lift, travelling between decks? I have never been on a cruise ship where it is easier to find things to do, come rain or shine.

Food was better than average for a cruise ship, without challenging for Michelin stars. You can take breakfast and lunch at a dozen different cafes and restaurants, each with its own character. "I put on about a pound a day on a cruise," admitted a man from Michigan, as he got stuck into the buffet at the upper-deck dining room. Over-indulgence is followed by remorse, followed by more self-indulgence. The numbers queuing for Secrets to a Flatter Stomach classes at the fitness centre are matched only by the numbers queuing for doughnuts.

All a bit ersatz, the dining lacks authenticity. Sorrento's Pizzeria is light years from the Bay of Naples, while the seafood at the Seafood Shack has clearly not come straight from the sea. But each has its own rudimentary appeal and the punters seem happy enough at the trough. Dinner is more structured but, considering the number of passengers, managed with remarkable efficiency. You turn up in the main dining room any time between 5.30pm and 9.30pm and wait five minutes or so to be seated - on your own, if that is your preference, or taking pot luck with strangers.

I took pot luck and, in seven nights, did not share a table with anyone I would call heavy going. Conversation flowed over succulent three-course meals. Jokes were cracked, life stories unfurled, email addresses exchanged over coffee. The democracy of the sea clasped us in its warm embrace.

Fine-dining options incur a surcharge - I had one memorable five-course dinner in a swish private dining room - and when it comes to alcohol you pay extra for every drink, with the option to pay a US$55-per-day deal that lets you drink until you fall over.

Only a minority opt for the deal, but they are so determined to drink their money's worth that it creates two classes of passenger - those nursing beers for two hours and those lurching across the deck at crazy angles, even when the ship is in port. It all added to the human comedy, which Oasis offers in teeming abundance.

Of the post-dinner entertainment - and there is everything from jazz to karaoke, disco dancing to waltzes, musicals to art auctions - I have never seen people laugh so helplessly as they were at the stand-up comedy in a packed club on one of the lower decks.

"Some fashion advice for the ladies," said one wag, to whoops of delight. "If you're really going to wear animal-print bikinis, you'd better not be bigger than the animals. I saw a zebra by the pool today that even a zebra wouldn't recognise." Some of the racier gags are unrepeatable, alas, but the act was classier than you would expect on such a behemoth of a vessel.

If life on Oasis of the Seas was one grand sweet song, life ashore, it must be said, was disappointing. The trouble with ships of this size is that only a limited number of ports can accommodate them. There is no shortage of excursions on offer, and the logistics of ferrying passengers to and fro are faultlessly handled, but the real Caribbean, for want of a better phrase, feels a long way off.

It was totally invisible at our first port of call - Labadee, on the north coast of Haiti. The island is owned by Royal Caribbean and has been Disneyfied to extinction. You are greeted by signs saying "Avast, you landlubbers!" and directed to "artisan markets" where the artisans are wearing the same, branded shirts and selling the same tat. Are people so naive as to fall for this stuff? Never again.

Jamaica was better. Striking out alone I took a tour of one of the old plantation houses, passed Usain Bolt's old school and had a hearty lunch of jerk chicken and rum punch amid lush foliage. I also enjoyed my short snorkelling trip at our final port of call, Cozumel in Mexico. But it was not memories of Mexico or Jamaica or Haiti that lingered as I boarded the plane home from Florida: it was memories of people having a ball on the cruise ship to end cruise ships.

Happy, imperishable vignettes jostled in my brain. Having a martini cocktail in a plunge pool with identical twins from Kentucky. Talking cricket with a Jamaican waiter while a Russian violinist fiddled in the background. Shuffling my chips to and fro across the roulette table, praying to Lady Luck.

Then there was dancing under the stars to the strains of reggae. Cheering an 18-stone Puerto Rican to victory in the men's belly-flop competition. Watching a perfect Caribbean sunset from the swimming pool. Laughing myself silly at an adult game show as a Victor Meldrew lookalike tottered across the floor in high heels and lipstick. Doing a headcount in a 24-person lift and getting to 29… Imperishable memories.

More than 200 years ago, Dr Johnson came up with an aphorism which still holds good today: "Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life." If he were to travel on the Oasis of the Seas, this wacky world within a world, with its glorious cavalcade of humanity on holiday, he would probably express a similar sentiment.

SURVIVING ON A JUMBO-SIZED CRUISE SHIP: SOME DO'S AND DON'TS

- Don't try to do everything and go everywhere - you will end up exhausted.

- If you meet someone you like and want to see more of, make sure (without appearing like a stalker) you get their names/cabin numbers - it's unlikely you will bump into them again.

- Ignore passengers who are slimmer/fitter than you - and relish the many hundreds who are not.

- Keep tabs on your food and alcohol consumption. With so many food and drink outlets the temptation to overindulge is extreme.

- Get your general bearings on day one, and identify good places to rendezvous if you get separated from companions.

- People-watch 'til you drop - you will never get a better opportunity.

- If you want to meet fellow bridge players, Doctor Who buffs and sport fans, advertise on one of the notice boards.

- The best time to swim in the pools is early morning or late afternoon - in the middle of the day expect a scrum.

The Telegraph, London