Cruising is a fantastic way to travel, blending the thrill of exploring multiple destinations with the comfort and convenience of room and board all in one place. It’s an all-inclusive floating resort that changes scenery from day to day.

However, many things add to the cost of a cruise vacation.  Having cruised for over ten years, I’ve learned many ways to sail and explore the world while staying within a budget and not missing out on the fun. From budget-friendly excursion ideas to money-saving pointers while onboard the ship, these easy tips will help you get the most out of your trip without breaking the bank. 

The idea of swimming alongside “gentle giants” slowly unraveled into something much less calm. I could suddenly picture a massive mouth opening wide, far wider than it needed to be, and me somehow ending up in exactly the wrong place at exactly the wrong time.

In my mind, I was accidentally sucked in, immediately rejected for not being plankton, and then launched back out with enough force to send me flailing through the water like a very confused sardine.

This is not a paid piece by Holland America Line. No perks, no upgrades, no behind-the-scenes access. Just experience.

Which ship do you want to be on?

With Holland America Line, this matters more than you might think. Their fleet is not one-size-fits-all. Each ship falls into a class, and each class offers a slightly different experience.

The good news is that all of their ships fall into what I would call the “mid-sized” category. You’re not dealing with floating cities packed with thousands upon thousands of passengers. Even their largest ships still feel manageable.

That balance is part of what keeps us coming back.

With rising travel costs, knowing how to save on cruise fares and related travel can make your experience even more enjoyable.

Beyond cruise fare special sales and booking years in advance, there are other ways to make cruising even more budget-friendly.

This is not a paid piece by Holland America Line. No perks, no upgrades, no behind-the-scenes access. Just experience.

With eleven ships traveling to all seven continents, there isn’t just one “Holland America cruise.” There are hundreds of combinations of destinations, timelines, and experiences. The good news is that you don’t need to figure it all out at once.

This is the exact process Mr. Whaldo and I use every time we start planning a new cruise.

This is not a paid piece by Holland America Line. No perks, no upgrades, no behind-the-scenes access. Just experience. We’ve cruised with other lines, but we keep coming back to Holland America. Not out of habit, but because it consistently fits how we like to travel.

It comes down to three things. Price point, itineraries, and ship size.

The first thing that completely captured my heart was the wildflowers. They bloom everywhere. Along the roads. Across open fields. Tucked into hillsides you might have ignored in winter. Some of my favorite floral photos were taken this time of year.

I first noticed them while taking Jax to Fiesta Island Dog Park. The fields erupt with color. It is one giant natural photo backdrop. The trails are clear and easy to follow, so walking with your unleashed furry sidekick is not just good exercise, it is genuinely awe-inspiring.

Yes, there is the familiar Caribbean image. Turquoise water that almost looks edited. Palms bending toward the shoreline. Sun that kisses your shoulders whether you asked for it or not. That atmosphere lingers whether the sky is brilliant blue or briefly washed in tropical rain.

But beneath that beauty are distinct identities.

Amber Cove showed us how tourism can reshape a community and spark renewal beyond the dock. St. Kitts carried its history along steel rails once used for sugar cane, now repurposed to tell a different story. In Puerto Rico, we saw residents rally to protect their island’s feral cats. In Martinique, we stepped into the historic Bibliothèque Schoelcher, whose ornate details reminded us that Caribbean culture is layered and complex.

Both Mr. Whaldo and I were lucky enough to handle a large female who felt safe with us and rested easily on our arms. We held one together and also separately. The ray I held on my own seemed especially comfortable and lifted her beak onto my chest, as if to get a better look at me. She allowed me to gently boop her before calmly swimming back to her favorite wrangler.

We also had the opportunity to feed them squid, which they happily sucked from our hands. This was another carefully taught lesson, designed to keep us from earning any stingray hickies on our fingers, hands, or arms.

The bus stop was nothing more than a sign on a pole, which should have been our first clue that public transit in Vancouver comes with a side of improvisation. When the bus arrived, we asked how to pay. “Swipe your credit card,” said the driver. I swiped once. When I tried for my husband, it wouldn’t take it. We needed a second card. I had only brought one. Cue the awkward shuffle in a bus packed like sardines and a driver clearly on a tight schedule. He rolled his eyes, handed us tickets, mumbled instructions, and we stood, smiling nervously at strangers as the bus lurched forward.

Alaska’s glaciers are where I first learned to appreciate the beauty in shades of blue, white, and grey ice. It is where I learned to stand quietly and listen to the soft popping deep inside the ice. It is also where I discovered how thrilling it is to witness a glacier calve. There is nothing like watching a massive chunk of ancient, layered ice crack, roar, and break free before splashing into the sea and drifting away as a newborn iceberg. It never stops feeling awe-inspiring.

Ralph showed up at the airport with an extra parka, scarf, waterproof winter boots, and lined mittens. I changed into the boots, and then he quickly got to work. He layered the gear on me, pulled the scarf over most of my face, and cinched the fuzzy-lined hood down tight. The last piece was a pair of sunglasses to shield my eyes. We walked toward the door, both of us giggling.

It was gray outside, and I felt a jolt of excitement at finally experiencing Alaska. As we approached the door, I caught my reflection in the glass. I looked like the kid from A Christmas Story, stiff and awkward under all the winter gear. Right before the door opened, Ralph told me to blink often to protect my eyeballs.

I’ve made five trips to Alaska so far, three by air and two by sea. I genuinely believe everyone should cruise Alaska at least once. Still, my favorite way to visit is to fly in, rent a car, take a few train rides, or even take a floatplane excursion to visit remote, smaller towns.

Some places shine from the water. Glacier Bay is unforgettable, and many of the cruise stops sit on Alaska’s islands. The train ride from Fairbanks down to Seward is one of my favorite trips in the entire state. The stretch between Anchorage and Seward is the standout. Then again, nothing compares to flying over Denali National Park. Alaska is full of impossible choices like that.

On cruise ship days (typically Saturdays and Sundays, with Saturday being the busiest), vendors line the Embarcadero all the way from the cruise terminal south to Seaport Village and north past Waterfront Park.  The foot traffic can be enormous, depending on how many ships are in port that day.  With Norwegian Cruise Line adding San Diego as a start-and-stop port, there is rarely only one ship in port at a time.  

Gatun Lake, covering 166 square miles and sitting 82 to 87 feet above sea level, is alive with wildlife. Its forested islands and surrounding rainforest shelter over 100 species of mammals, more than 100 species of reptiles and amphibians, and over 500 species of birds. Cruising slowly through this diverse ecosystem, we even spotted alligators gliding past.  It was a reminder that, even amid such an immense feat of engineering, nature persists vibrant and alive.

Boats jammed together, bounced off one another, and veered sideways. Instead of frustration, the whole thing dissolved into laughter—from us on shore and from most of the boaters themselves. It was slapstick comedy on water, and absolutely priceless.

We walked a lot that first evening, but the following day, we jumped on trains and buses to get around. Crossing the Rhine River, we made our way to the highly anticipated Paper Museum.

Yes, I get it; you’re probably wondering, "Why would anyone in their right mind want to visit a paper museum on vacation?" That sounds like the kind of place you only go to as a chaperone on a child’s field trip, just because it’s your turn to wrangle the kids.

You would be wrong.

The change is subtle, but the days already hint that fall is arriving.

Today is the Equinox, officially ending summer and marking the beginning of fall. The rest of our summer staycation was filled with night concerts at the Rady Shell, plenty of paddleboarding, playing with Jax at the beach, relaxing in our backyard, watching the H-1 Hydroplane Unlimited finals, and trying a few new restaurants.

My husband and I love little surprises like that, so we happily set out. The day was warming up, and we shed our jackets as we climbed. We went up, then down, and around through the rocks. Just as we were working up a sweat, we turned a corner and the spray from the waterfall hit our skin, instantly cooling us.

From there, we continued to Dynjandi Waterfall. To our surprise, there were hardly any other people there, even though it’s the largest waterfall in northwest Iceland and one of the country’s most famous and “most beautiful”. To be honest, every waterfall we saw was billed as “the most beautiful,” but Dynjandi certainly lived up to the praise. Still, we couldn’t figure out where all the tourists were.