In August 2025, we started making plans for June 2026, which meant figuring out how we would make our way back to Europe after spending time in the United States and Latin America. As we talked through the different possibilities, flights felt like the obvious choice, but also the one we had done so many times before. The more we thought about it, the more we realized we wanted the journey itself to feel meaningful this time, not just the destination waiting on the other side. We wanted a slower transition between continents, something that would allow us to actually feel the distance between where we were leaving and where we were heading next.
That is when we thought about a transatlantic repositioning cruise. So instead of flying from America to Europe in a matter of hours, we would slowly cross the Atlantic Ocean day by day, watching one continent disappear behind us while another slowly approached ahead. It felt less like transportation and more like part of the experience itself. So, nine months in advance, we booked our first transatlantic cruise from Miami to Barcelona, choosing a completely different way to return to Europe.
We didn’t just take a cruise.
We crossed an ocean.
And somehow, that feels very different.
There is something about leaving a continent, not by plane and not in a rush, but slowly, day by day, that changes the way you experience both the leaving and the arriving. When you fly, everything happens so quickly that your mind almost struggles to process the actual distance you are covering. One moment you are in one part of the world, and the next you are in another. But on a ship, you feel every part of the transition. You watch the water stretch endlessly around you, you notice the rhythm of the days changing, and you slowly begin to disconnect from one side of the ocean before reconnecting with the other.
This was our first transatlantic cruise, sailing from Miami to Barcelona. Two weeks at sea, a few stops along the way, and a lot of time in between.
Time… which is something I think many of us no longer fully allow ourselves to feel anymore.
Leaving, but Not All at Once
On April 11th, we finally boarded our transatlantic cruise in Miami. That day, ours was one of five cruise ships leaving the port, and watching them all lined up beside each other somehow made the moment feel even bigger. Thousands of people, all heading in different directions, all leaving something behind for a while.
We had been looking forward to this transatlantic cruise for weeks. Interestingly, many people asked us the same question before leaving: “Won’t you get bored being stuck on a ship in the middle of the ocean for two weeks?”
And honestly, I understand why people ask that.
I think many see our travel life as one long vacation, but the reality is very different. We simply chose to live our lives in different places around the world for periods of time, but our daily life still includes work, responsibilities, routines, planning, grocery shopping, cooking, laundry, deadlines, homeschooling, emotions, exhaustion, and all the normal things that come with life anywhere else.
So for us, this transatlantic cruise actually felt like a real vacation.
For the first time in so long, there was no grocery shopping to think about, no apartment check-ins, no figuring out transportation, no planning every little detail of the next move. After the intensity of the weeks before boarding, and especially the last few days leading up to the cruise, it felt like a chance to finally exhale and just take things one day at a time.
Those days before leaving were full in a completely different way. We spent time reconnecting with friends we had not seen in years, stepping back into familiar conversations and familiar rhythms for a little while… and then suddenly stepping right back out of them again.
Somewhere in between all of that, we also visited Universal Epic Universe. The park itself was impressive, but I remember noticing how crowded, loud, and overstimulating it felt for us at this stage of our lives. Not in a judgmental way at all, just as an observation.
Travel changes you over time, and I think slow travel especially changes the way you experience places, noise, crowds, and even entertainment itself. It made me realize how much our family rhythm has shifted over the years.
And then suddenly, we were standing on the deck, watching the skyline of Miami slowly get smaller behind us.
There is a very strange feeling when the ship first starts moving. Everything suddenly feels slightly unreal. The buildings slowly drift farther away, another cruise ship passes nearby, people wave from balconies, music plays somewhere in the background… and without anyone really saying it out loud, the energy changes.
You realize something important in that moment.
We are not going back there tomorrow.
We are not even going back next week.
We are leaving one continent behind and slowly making our way toward another.
Life on a Transatlantic Cruise at Sea
Most people think cruises are about the destinations. But a transatlantic cruise is mostly about… the space in between.
Days when there is no land in sight.
No rushing to see a monument.
No checklist of things to accomplish.
No moving hotels every few days.
Just water.
At first, it feels a little strange.
We are so used to constantly moving, exploring, documenting, and learning something new every day. Even our version of slow travel still has movement built into it. There are usually trains to catch, groceries to buy, apartments to settle into, routes to plan, and stories unfolding around us. But here, the movement was happening without us doing anything.
The ship moved.
We stayed.
And slowly, something inside of us began to shift, too.
Originally, we imagined these sea days would simply be quiet and restful. We thought we would spend most of the time reading books, sitting outside, staring at the ocean, and embracing a slower pace of life. And while there was definitely space for that, we quickly realized that life on a cruise ship works very differently.
The ship itself is designed to keep people entertained throughout the journey, especially on a transatlantic cruise crossing where there are so many consecutive sea days.
Every day, there was a full schedule of activities happening all around the ship. From workshops to games, performances, lessons, contests, and events, there was always something happening if you wanted to participate. At the same time, there was also complete freedom to ignore all of it and simply sit quietly on deck watching the ocean pass by.
And honestly, I think that balance is what made the experience so enjoyable for us.
Some mornings we chose to stay slower, having breakfast while watching the sea and enjoying the warmth of the Caribbean during those first days of navigation. At other moments, we found ourselves fully participating in the little world that forms on board during a crossing like this.
Every day we attended two different prize draws, hoping to win something fun while also collecting little charms from the jewelry shop. Somehow, Cosimo actually managed to win both a prize and a huge discount toward a purchase in the store, which made the whole thing even more exciting for him.
We also attended several workshops throughout the cruise. There were demonstrations on how sushi is made, cake decorating classes, towel animal folding sessions, and many other small activities that somehow became part of our daily rhythm onboard. We joined Portuguese and Spanish lessons, Mass, and I ended up doing different dance classes almost every day just for fun.
One thing we never missed was the evening shows. Every night, we would go sit in the theater together, and honestly, it became one of my favorite parts of the cruise. The amount of talent, creativity, discipline, and energy from everyone performing was incredible. Every evening felt like stepping into a completely different atmosphere, and it genuinely filled our hearts after long days at sea.
Emma and I also had the opportunity to go behind the scenes one day to see how everything works on board the ship, and it completely blew our minds. I don’t think most people realize how much organization, coordination, and invisible work happen behind the scenes to keep a cruise ship functioning every single day while crossing an entire ocean. It almost felt like visiting a floating city operating quietly underneath what passengers normally see.
There was honestly so much more we could have done onboard, but at the same time, we never felt the need to do everything. What we chose felt enough for us. Fun without pressure. Entertainment without exhaustion.
Meanwhile, Luca enjoyed going to the kids’ club, while Cosimo and Emma slowly started making friendships onboard too.
One thing we did notice was that, considering the time of year, a large percentage of the passengers were older, many over 65. At first, I wondered how the kids would feel about that atmosphere, but honestly, I think it ended up being exactly the kind of energy we needed. The pace felt calmer, softer, less chaotic. There was no pressure to constantly “do” something or be overstimulated. It felt like a space where we were finally allowed to decompress.
And despite the age differences, we met some truly lovely people onboard. One of the beautiful things about travel is that connection does not always happen where or with whom you expect. Sometimes all it takes is sharing the same ocean for a little while.
Learning to Slow Down… Again
After the first few days of exploring the ship and figuring out our new floating world, something else slowly started happening without us even realizing it.
We began settling into a completely different rhythm.
During our normal travels, life usually revolves around routines, responsibilities, planning the next move, grocery shopping, work, transportation, and constantly thinking ahead. But out in the middle of the Atlantic, many of those things simply disappeared for a while.
The ship moved for us.
The meals were already prepared.
There was nowhere we needed to rush to.
And little by little, we all started creating our own small rituals onboard.
Almost every night after the kids’ club closed around 10 pm, Mass, Cosimo, and Luca would settle into their nightly Nintendo Switch tournaments on the cabin television. It became part of their rhythm at sea, something they genuinely looked forward to every evening. Meanwhile, Emma and I usually stayed nearby, watching one of our series together or quietly reading our books before falling asleep.
It may sound simple, but those small moments became part of what made this transatlantic cruise crossing feel so special to me.
Cosimo, Emma, and Luca each experienced the cruise differently. More independent, more observant, each slowly settling into the experience in their own way. Sometimes joining activities, other times simply taking time for themselves or sharing a quiet meal together.
And then there were the quieter moments that slowly became my favorite part of the entire journey.
Walking together on the deck at night.
Sitting in silence without needing to constantly fill it.
Looking out at an endless horizon that somehow never looked the same twice.
I honestly loved seeing nothing but water around us.
Even during the rougher days at sea, when the ship moved heavily through the waves, I still felt an unexpected sense of calm. Maybe because for once, there was nowhere else we needed to be yet. No land in sight. No rushing toward the next destination.
Just the ocean carrying us slowly forward.
Stops That Break the Rhythm
And then, just as we had fully settled into that slower rhythm at sea…
Land appeared again.
After days surrounded by nothing but water, seeing the outline of an island slowly emerge on the horizon felt strange and exciting at the same time. Our stops almost felt like interruptions to the stillness we had grown so comfortable in onboard. But at the same time, they also felt necessary. As much as we had all needed that pause from reality, it could not last forever.
In a way, each port slowly prepared us to re-enter the world again.
Our first stop during the transatlantic cruise was Ponta Delgada in the Azores, and honestly, the feeling of stepping back onto land caught me by surprise. For most of the morning, my body still felt like it was moving with the waves. Even while standing still, I could still feel the ocean inside me.
The Azores immediately felt different from anywhere else we had visited before. Volcanic landscapes, rolling green hills, misty skies, crater lakes, hot springs, and hydrangeas everywhere.
The islands almost feel suspended between Europe and the middle of the Atlantic, shaped completely by nature and isolation. There is something incredibly peaceful and untouched about them.
I had booked a jeep tour for us that day so we could explore more of the island, including the famous caldera lakes and viewpoints around São Miguel Island. Our guide was incredibly knowledgeable and passionate about the Azores, and almost immediately, I felt myself snapping out of that strange feeling of loss I had experienced when leaving the ship.
Because that is honestly what it felt like at first. A small sense of loss.
Not because I did not want to explore anymore, but because we had all settled into a rhythm onboard that felt unexpectedly comforting. A slower rhythm where there was nowhere to rush, nowhere we needed to be, and nothing expected from us beyond simply existing inside the journey.
But as our guide shared stories about the island, its volcanic history, local traditions, and daily life, while we drove through those incredible green landscapes overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, something shifted inside me again.
I remembered exactly what I love so much about travel.
The opportunity to see and experience places all over the world. The chance to step, even briefly, into realities completely different from our own. And most importantly, the reminder that wherever we are in that moment, whether for eight hours, eight days, or eight months… our life is there for that period of time.
We are fully there. Opening ourselves to the experience, the people, the landscapes, the stories, and the emotions attached to that place.
Slowly, that feeling of sadness disappeared and transformed into excitement and gratitude for what we were experiencing.
I realized the ship had not only given us time to decompress. It was also slowly carrying us toward new parts of the world, allowing us to pause, breathe, and then reconnect with exploration again in a gentler way.
Cruise Stops in Spain: Cádiz, Motril, Ibiza, and Alicante
The next stops on our transatlantic cruise slowly brought us into Spain, beginning with Cádiz, a city that still looks out toward the Atlantic Ocean and somehow felt like a gentle transition back into Europe. Cádiz is actually considered one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in Western Europe, founded over 3,000 years ago by the Phoenicians. Walking through it, you can truly feel those layers of history everywhere, from the narrow streets to the old buildings, plazas, and sea walls surrounding the city.
Our plan there was simple, but honestly, those are often the days we enjoy the most.
We got off the ship and simply started wandering through the city, taking in the atmosphere and slowly making our way toward the central market. Inside the mercado, we stopped to try some traditional local seafood dishes, something Cádiz is especially known for because of its long fishing history and connection to the Atlantic. Fried fish, fresh seafood, small bites full of flavor. Afterward, we continued walking all the way to the beach, where the ocean and city seemed to blend together perfectly.
That evening, as the ship continued sailing south, we passed through the Strait of Gibraltar during the night, and honestly, it was one of the most surreal moments of the crossing for me. On the Spanish side, there was mostly darkness, while across the water, the coast of Morocco was glowing with countless lights in the distance. We felt incredibly close to both continents at the same time, Europe and Africa separated only by a narrow stretch of water. Standing on the deck in the middle of the night, watching that felt almost unreal.
Our next stop was Motril, located along Spain’s southern Mediterranean coast in the region of Andalusia. This time, only Emma and I got off the ship together to explore the local sugar cane museum. Before visiting, I honestly had no idea how important the sugar cane industry once was in this area. Motril was actually one of the main centers for sugar cane production in Europe for centuries because of its subtropical climate, something quite unique for mainland Spain.
The museum shared not only the history of sugar production itself, but also the enormous impact the industry had on the landscape and environment over time. Large areas of land were transformed for cultivation, leading to significant deforestation and changes to the region. It was interesting and important to see both sides of the story, the economic importance the industry once had for the area, but also the environmental consequences connected to it.
Next came Ibiza, which felt completely different again. Most people immediately associate Ibiza with nightlife and parties, but there is another side to the island too, especially around the old town. We decided to walk from the port all the way into the historic center, which ended up being much more of a hike than we expected, especially uphill toward Dalt Vila, the fortified old town overlooking the sea. But once we reached the top, the views made every step completely worth it. Looking out over the Mediterranean, the white buildings, the boats below, and the old stone walls surrounding the city felt incredibly beautiful.
Our final stop before arriving in Barcelona was Alicante, a Mediterranean city on Spain’s Costa Blanca known for its palm-lined promenade, beaches, and the imposing Castle of Santa Bárbara that overlooks the entire coastline from the top of Mount Benacantil. Alicante has a long history shaped by the Romans, Moors, and later Spanish kingdoms, and you can still feel those different influences throughout the city today.
We had booked a bike tour there because we wanted to experience the city differently, moving through it more slowly instead of simply walking from one landmark to another. Even though the weather was a little rainy that day, we ended up loving this excursion. Riding along the waterfront, through the old streets, and learning more about the history and daily life of the city somehow made us feel much more connected to the place.
One thing I loved about Alicante was the atmosphere. It felt lively but relaxed at the same time, with people sitting outside at cafés despite the rain, locals walking along the marina, and that slower Mediterranean rhythm that reminds you to enjoy where you are instead of constantly rushing somewhere else.
And yet, every single time, after a few hours on land, we always returned to the same place.
Back to the ship.
Back to the ocean.
Back to that strange and comforting in-between space that had slowly started feeling like home.
Arriving, Slowly
And then, the next morning at 4 am, the port of Barcelona appeared in the distance.
Not suddenly, like when you land from a plane and step into a completely different reality within a few hours, but slowly. Little by little. The outline of the city gradually became clearer as the ship approached the coast.
After spending so many days surrounded only by water, seeing land again almost felt strange. Buildings, traffic, people, sounds… everything somehow felt louder and faster after the calm rhythm we had settled into at sea.
But at the same time, arriving this way felt so much gentler on both the mind and body.
Instead of being abruptly transported from one continent to another, we had slowly transitioned between them. We had time to let go of one chapter before stepping into the next one. Time to rest, reflect, reconnect as a family, and simply exist without constantly rushing toward something.
Even the time difference slowly adjusted itself day by day during the crossing; instead of hitting us all at once, the way it usually does after a long international flight. Little by little, the ship shifted the clocks forward, allowing our bodies and minds to slowly adapt along with the journey itself.
I think that is what made this transatlantic cruise experience feel so different from any other type of travel we have done before.
It was not only about reaching Europe.
It was about the process of crossing toward it.
About spending two weeks suspended between continents, routines, responsibilities, and realities. About realizing how rarely we allow ourselves to slow down enough to fully feel where we are in the present moment.
As the ship entered the port and the reality of disembarking slowly became real, I remember feeling grateful for this experience in a way I did not fully expect when we first booked it nine months earlier.
Grateful for the stillness.
For the ocean.
For the conversations.
For the unexpected rhythm we created onboard.
For the small ports that reminded us why we love exploring the world so much.
And for the feeling of crossing an entire ocean slowly enough to truly experience it.
Would we do a transatlantic cruise again?
Honestly… yes.
Not because it felt luxurious or because we constantly needed entertainment, but because, for a brief period of time, life itself became simpler again.
And maybe sometimes, that is exactly the kind of journey we need most.
FAQ About Our Transatlantic Cruise
Was a transatlantic cruise boring?
Honestly, no. The slower pace was actually one of our favorite parts of the experience. Life onboard naturally created its own rhythm through sea days, activities, shows, conversations, and simply slowing down enough to enjoy the journey itself.
How long was the transatlantic cruise from Miami to Barcelona?
Our transatlantic repositioning cruise aboard the Norwegian Pearl lasted 14 nights.
What stops did the cruise make?
During our transatlantic cruise, we stopped in Ponta Delgada in the Azores, Cádiz, Motril, Ibiza, and Alicante before arriving in Barcelona.
Would we do a transatlantic cruise again?
Yes, absolutely. Crossing the Atlantic slowly gave us time to decompress, reconnect as a family, and experience travel in a completely different way. We would love to try the transpacific next time!
What was the best part of the transatlantic cruise?
For us, it was the slower rhythm of life at sea. Watching the ocean every day, settling into simple routines, and having nowhere to rush to became one of the most meaningful parts of the experience.
