大象传媒

Walking on to The Norwegian Pearl, I had no idea what to expect. I certainly hadn’t expected to be boarding any cruise ship at all in my thirties; that particular style of holiday has never appealed, truth be told. But - strictly speaking - I wasn’t going on holiday, I was attending ’The Boaty Weekender’: a floating festival on the Mediterranean Sea.

...it was easy to forget that Stuart Murdoch - Belle and Sebastian鈥檚 frontman - wasn鈥檛 actually the ship鈥檚 captain

Belle and Sebastian, who are no strangers to curating a festival or two, were the headliners and played a major hand in selecting who would appear on the lineup. It really did feel as though the band were our hosts and, over the course of the festival’s four days, it was easy to forget that Stuart Murdoch - Belle and Sebastian’s frontman - wasn’t actually the ship’s captain. Well, that’s how the super fans (of which there were hundreds) came to refer to him, anyway.

The atmosphere was…whatever you wanted it to be. This was a festival on a cruise ship, after all: if you preferred to play ‘Band Name Bingo’ instead of queuing for Mogwai’s opening set, the choice was yours to make; You’d rather watch Buzzcocks from the hot tub than from the front row? Stick on a swimsuit and do as you please; And worry not - if bingo was less exciting than you hoped it would be, Mogwai (like every other band on board) would be playing three different sets, so there was no reason to miss out.

The novelty of mingling with the artists - Yo La Tengo, Camera Obscura, Alvvays, The Vaselines, Teenage Fanclub, et al - wore off quite quickly. It didn’t take long before we were all one big, equal, happy bunch of Boaty Weekenders, making our way from Barcelona to Cagliari and back, having our fill of fun, frivolity and food…there was so much food.

Quite simply, every guest was catered for (did I mention the food?) and each and every one of the gigs that I saw was outstanding. The festival may have been four days long but the memory of Belle and Sebastian’s opening set - as the sun went down and Barcelona disappeared behind the horizon - endured. It was a true icebreaker that gave guests from across the globe something to talk about, and, probably, continues to do so - it was that good.

Was I sad to leave The Norwegian Pearl - and the thirty degree heat - after four days and make my way back to the flooded Prestwick Airport car park? No, not really. I had had the most incredible time, made new friends and some wonderful memories, but I was ready to go home and bore all of my existing friends with the tales. So I did. And I still do. And I hope that one day I’ll get to do it all again.