The following evening, we enjoyed another Christian Le Squer meal at Sedna, where sweeping sea views are accompanied by impeccable and warm service. The wine was again a standout, but I returned to my room thinking about his signature spaghetti gratin, with ham, morels, and black truffle—the kind of dish I’d happily take the Eurostar into Paris for.
Speaking of the rooms, let me tell you about my suite (one of only 95, all with a view), which came with floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors and a veranda with sun loungers on which to sunbathe in privacy. I also had a walk-in closet, a wall full of beautiful coffee table books, iPads to control everything, a proper Four Seasons bed, double sinks, a bathtub and shower, and a Dyson hair dryer. As a yacht novice, I was also endlessly fascinated by the entirely transparent Bang & Olufsen TV, created so as not to obstruct even a sliver of your view of the endless sea. I watched The Talented Mr Ripley, if only to revisit those dazzling shots of the Mediterranean and remind myself that I was living the dream—albeit for a couple of nights.
That truth was hammered into me the next day, when I spent more than a few hours at the spa. I had a La Mer facial followed by a Margy’s Monte Carlo body treatment, but there’s so much more available, including a hair and nail salon, an infrared room, sauna and steam, and even cryotherapy. The gym is gorgeous—again, with portholes to take in the view—and is kitted out with a frame reformer as well as Technogym equipment custom-made for the ship in a special shade of sandstone.
Four Seasons says the ship’s design is inspired by the ‘50s and ’60s—the so-called golden age of travel—but I’m inclined to believe Tillberg Design of Sweden has gone beyond such comparisons. Especially when you consider the additional surprises, curated under the creative direction of Prosper Assouline. There’s a dazzling cigar lounge and bar, both conceived by none other than hotel designer of the moment, Martin Brudnizki (of Annabel’s; Fouquets; and Fifth Avenue Hotel fame); a sleek omakase restaurant; and even a 4,000-year-old fossil parked unassumingly outside a set of toilets (not kidding).
