How to survive a 60-night cruise: Eat well, stay sane and see it all

Here’s why a 60-night cruise is one of the smartest “tick the bucket list” moves you’ll ever make.

Let’s start with the big picture: you’re on solid land, staring at your bucket list – a sheepish list of places you promised you’d visit “one day”. Now imagine boarding a ship, casting off the moorings, and over two months visiting far more than you ever would by piecemeal holidays.

What you get is: one fixed departure and one fixed “getting there” cost; you unpack once; you live life in one cabin; your luggage stays with you; your meals and basic accommodations are sorted; you see remote places you wouldn’t normally visit; you have a sense of journey, not just hopping from A to B. And in the age of “I’ve been there” Instagram-bragging, you’ll come back with stories of remote reefs, island communities, cultural festivals and coastlines so wild you’ll feel heroic. (And yes: you’ll have earned every extra centimetre on your waistline.)

In terms of cost? A 60-night cruise might come with a hefty price tag – but divide that by 60 nights and you begin to see relative value compared to multiple shorter trips that rack up flights, transfers, new hotels, new pack/unpack stresses. And for the over-60s who’ve earned that “why not?” moment, it’s a glorious way to stretch out, relax, and see it all.

How to not ruin your body on board: avoiding the great cruise feast trap

Here comes the practical bit: you’ve boarded the ship, buffet spread, poolside cocktails, late-night desserts. It’s like the world’s greatest binge-fest with a view of exotic sunsets. And you’ve got 60 nights. If you let it go unchecked – you’ll come home feeling less “refreshed globetrotter” and more “rolled burrito”.

Here’s how to avoid that:

Mind the first few days. The novelty will make you over-eat like a teenager at a buffet that never shuts. Accept that yes, you’re on holiday – and you are going to indulge – but don’t let the first week set the tone for all 60 nights. Start mildly: pick your indulgences (that chocolate fountain? use it once). Then switch to moderation.

Use the “rate yourself” technique. On sea-days especially (more about them later) when the only enemy is your own laziness and a gin & tonic, decide: “I will have one decadent dessert this evening” rather than “everything in sight”. After all, you’ll be walking through cabins, lounges, decks, maybe into ports for shore-excursions. So keep your body a mobile vessel – not a sluggish lifeboat.

Schedule movement. Even if you’re only strolling the deck at dawn, do it. Consider the stairs; find the gym or walk/race the ship circumference. This is a long haul voyage – your body demands that you keep it ticking. Otherwise the ship may move – but your metabolism will very slowly stop.

Choose wisely when eating. Many meals will be all you can eat. At the big dinner nights, pick one hearty course, then skip the second – or go for something lighter (fish and veggies) occasionally. Have the dessert – but share it, or taper the portion. Keep hydration high (yes, cocktails are fun – but water gets you far in the evenings). Use the ports to walk and earn your next meal.

How to SURVIVE sea-days and avoid the “ship-board-boredom” trap

An extended cruise is not all glitz and ports. The sea days – when you’re simply sailing from Point A to B – can sometimes feel endless. If you’re unprepared, they’re boredom incubators. Here’s how to make them your friend rather than your nemesis:

Plan ahead for sea-days. Use them to your advantage: have a book or two queued up; learn something new (many ships have talks, demos, craft sessions); have a deck-walk ritual: morning, mid-afternoon, pre-dinner. Plot out Gym/Spa times, maybe a pool-session. The trick: treat it like a restful “land-based hotel” day but with scenery.

Mix up your activities. Attend a wine-tasting, join a trivia, try shuffleboard, see a performance in the evening. Don’t just collapse on the sun-lounger with a drink and a tablet for 12 hours. Because those 12 hours stretch on night after night – and before you know it you’re fed up.

Use shore-excursions wisely. On port days, yes, you’ll explore. But on sea days give yourself a mission: “I’ll learn how to crochet”, “I’ll do morning stretches on the deck”, “I’ll try the cooking demonstration”. Keep novelty alive.

Stay connected to land in a healthy way. Use your technology sparingly (important for older travellers). The thrill is being detached but not disconnected. Check messages, but don’t binge TV. Use the time for reflection, perhaps journalling your journey so far. At 60 nights you’ll change – mentally and physically – and reflection is part of the fun.

Why it pays to go long and not just “two weeks then home”

Two weeks is great. I’ve done it. But 60 nights? That’s the sort of journey where you start in one mindset, familiar, then end feeling like a slightly different person. The magic of visiting many ports means you’re constantly in “new place” mode – Chile to New Zealand, or Australia’s coast to remote islands – the landscape and culture keep shifting.

You’ll have day-in, day-out variation: bustling harbour towns, remote reefs, small island communities, long sea-days for contemplation, maybe some lectures and experts. You’ll come home richer – not just in stamps in your passport but in stories, refreshed outlook, new friends, maybe new habits.

And here’s an important point for our over-60 audience: physical recovery matters. A long cruise gives you that “slow immersion” rather than sprint-vacation fatigue. You unpack once, you don’t rush from hotel to airport, you gradually unwind and you gradually re-wind yourself back into land-life. That’s something shorter holidays often fail at.

So how to pick the right voyage and make it YOURS?

Make sure the itinerary is not just “lots of sea-days” but balanced with worthy ports and interesting stops.

Check what’s included: meals, excursions, flights in/out, drinks? Because for 60 nights you want transparency.

Choose your cabin wisely: you’ll be there a long time. Maybe upgrade to a balcony so you have your little outdoor space.

Plan your budget: reminders from forum folk highlight surprises. On top of your fare you may pay for drink packages, excursions, internet, tips. For long voyages the “extras” add up.

Go with the mindset: this is not just a holiday, it’s an experience. Accept that sea days are part of the journey—not a necessary evil. Embrace them.

Keep a loose schedule: you don’t have to fill every hour. Part of surviving long cruises is letting time stretch. But don’t let it slip away either. You’ll regret wasted days.

Final word

If you’re 60, or 62, or 65, or just tired of sprint-vacations and the endless hustle, a 60-night cruise is a fine option. And not just fine – it could be one of your best moves. You’ll see the world, live on the sea, dine and relax without packing/unpacking every other day, and come home with a calmer brain, a fuller passport, stories that astonish friends and maybe a new set of habits (deck-walks, morning coffee with an ocean view, one dessert a night rather than three). Just remember: resist the buffet bedlam, master the sea-day lull, and step off that ship saying, “Well that was something else.”

Go to Travel at 60 to check out some great long-cruise options.

Bon voyage – and may you love every wave of it.