Dear Diary,
It’s been a few weeks since I’ve stepped back on land, but my soul is still adrift on the wide, glittering waters of Alaska. That week aboard the Sapphire Princess felt like a dream, where every morning brought beautiful weather and breathtaking scenery. Our mini-suite offered the perfect blend of cozy and spacious, luxury and comfort, while our balcony became a picturesque window that beautifully framed the wilderness of the Inside Passage.
The adventure began even before we set foot on the ship. After leaving Anchorage, we traveled along Portage Glacier Road and felt like we were moving through a living painting. Jagged mountains rose like guardians on either side of us, many peaks still brushed with snow, while the waters of the bay shimmered in the morning sun like priceless crystal. With noses pressed against the windows, our eyes scanned the bay for the 300+ beluga whales beneath the surface. Though they eluded us this time, the scenery was so dazzling that it felt as though nature was showing off.
Life on the Sapphire Princess had a rhythm all its own—gentle as the tide. Mornings brought wonder and excitement, not knowing what new vista we’d drift past next. Our first few days had us floating past glaciers, slow-moving named goliaths that altered our perception of size and distance.
(Note to self: When glaciers calve (break off), you can feel the thunder-like rumble through your body.)
Our afternoons were filled with endless delights: delicious meals that filled our bellies and melted in our mouths, trivia that had us scratching our heads for answers, and quiet lounge areas where time seemed to catch its breath. Every corridor, every nook, every cranny held a sense of discovery, as if the ship itself begged to be explored.
Then came our time on land. Anchorage set the bar high. It greeted us with rugged charm and great coffee, while each port along the way had its own identity.
Skagway stood out as a quaint and precious town, its total population surprisingly smaller than the number of people aboard our ship.
Juneau, by comparison, was a sprawling city with an incredible array of tour options.
Ketchikan, meanwhile, seemed frozen in time with its vibrant, colorful buildings.
Each city became its own chapter in the grand storybook that makes up Alaska. Along the way, towering cliffs stretched toward skies so wide they seemed to go on forever, while forests whispered untouched secrets, and eagles perched on lampposts. Each view demanded we stop, stare, and appreciate the wonder.
But nothing came close to the night the sky put on a show. Between Glacier Bay and Skagway, the Northern Lights appeared, swirling in brilliant streaks of emerald and amber. For just a few minutes, they danced like living curtains against the darkness. It was a sight I’ll never forget.
(Note to self: the best time to chase the lights is late August through April, when Alaska’s nights are long and dark enough for the Aurora to shine. There aren’t many opportunities to catch them on a cruise as the summer months give you whales, wildflowers, and the seemingly endless daylight of the Midnight Sun.)
This trip was more than a vacation—it was more than a checklist—it was an experience. Alaska is wild and raw, and yet sacred in the way that humbles you. Like a song that, once you hear it, you can’t get out of your head, it lingers, echoing in my heart, and it’s calling me to return, even now.
Wishing you all the best wherever your travels take you,
Sydney
