Encouraged by the travel lecturer on board, we got up at 5:50 a.m. to look at the skyline of Istanbul as the ship made her way up the Bosporus to the Golden Horn. It was hazy out, but strengthened by reasonably good coffee and pastry we stared over the railing until the sun came up and the buildings became more visible.

It became quite beautiful — although while dawn on the Bosporus sounded like it would be high on my romantic index, there is something about standing among some two or three hundred red-eyed tourists that doesn’t exactly create an intimate moment. I did see a few couples holding hands — and one couple where a young woman watched the scenery go by in her partner’s arms — so there were romantic possibilities for people who were able to shut out the rest of the world and only see each other.

After breakfast and a serious amount of additional coffee, I left the boat to meet Turkish friends of my friend Lana. Lana’s husband Lyn had met Selim and Nadire at a medical meeting (all three are doctors) and convinced them to write books on treatments for disabled children for a global charitable project. It is a special kind of person who will write a medical text without receiving money for it — and Selim and Nadire are certainly exceptional people. Selim - tall, thin and a bit bookish — and Nadire — small, fit and sexy with big and frequent smiles — looked younger than people who had three children over the age of sixteen. They were sailors and athletes as well as coauthors and parents and described themselves as centrist Moslems. They whisked me away to the Grand Bazaar.

I love the Grand Bazaar. I love the high vaulted ceilings and the branches off the main aisles that beckon with the promise of thousands of new booths. Everywhere you look there are colorful wares competing for your eyes and senses. I am happy just browsing and looking around.

But of course I did more than look around. I bought a small turquoise bracelet for my daughter, an old sword for my son (he collects them) and a jade bracelet and antique Persian book illustration for myself. I ogled carpets and dishes and scarves and silver — but managed to fend off the impulse to buy it all.

It’s an overwhelming place — and yet, not impersonal. I had a great conversation with the man who sold me the Persian illustration (he had amazing drawings and paintings in his pint-sized booth) and we ended up taking pictures together. I had to be dragged out of there.

I was anxious and pleased, however, to be invited to Selim’s ancestral home, a traditional wooden building in a changing neighborhood. There I met his brother and sister-in-law who offered me tea and a mini introduction to Sufi theology about sexuality. His brother, having been told I was a sex and relationship expert, explained to me that his Sufi religion had little-known teachings about sexuality and its deeper connection to spirituality and transformation. He invited me to return some day and meet some of the masters of the religion who could tell me more. He was gracious and I was rapt and intrigued.

After that we went to see the gorgeous mosaics at the Chora Museum. The former Byzantine church is as it should be, said Selim. Modest on the outside, artistic within. I took about fifty photos of the intricate religious mosaics, and then we left the divine to concentrate on feeding our mortal bodies.

Selim and Nadire went to the modern street they like best — Istiklal Caddesi — a cross between the broad shopping streets of Paris and the Ginza in Japan. We went to an excellent restaurant, Haji Abdullah, which was on a side street off Istiklal. It was composed of three large rooms decorated with Turkish art and big jars of stored fruits and vegetables.

The custom in Turkish restaurants is to go up to a counter filled with all the appetizers and some of the main dishes and pick out selections that look good to you. Salim, Nadire and I were famished by the time we looked over the choices and they ordered just about everything on the display counter. There were artichokes in olive oil, glorious string beans, mashed eggplant and lamb, stuffed grape leaves, lamb shank, grilled eggplant, chopped tomatoes, steamed fish and some sweet red goop with strawberries in it that looked and tasted like liquid Jello. Selim said that foreigners often found it too sweet and I was no exception. After this feast we went to Selim’s favorite chocolate shop where he bought a creation that resembled profiteroles smothered with chocolate sauce. It was not wonderful and Selim agreed that it was not its usual quality.

My hosts had a wedding to go to that night and invited me to relax at their place while they were gone and stay over night. But it was the last couple of nights of the trip and I thought I should rejoin my group.

They dropped me off at the ship and I rejoined Janet and her family. We had dinner and discussed the last and final day in Istanbul. Janet’s brother had hired a guide and tomorrow we would do all the usual tourist spots — the Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque, the Cistern. They had toured Topkapi museum while I was with Selim and Nadire and loved it (I had been there twice before and while I enjoyed seeing the Harem quarters and the baseball size emeralds and diamonds, I had no desire to go a third time). A couple of the group, against advice, had gone to the more modern Dolmabahce Palace and regretted it. The tour is boring, the rooms are garish and there really is absolutely no reason to see it.

So the next day we did the tourist sights and they are popular because they deserve to be. The Blue Mosque is huge with some beautiful tiled walls, but once I am in hoards of tourists I find it I hard to connect with a place. This was also true for Hagia Sophia — although Selim’ s brother had urged me to connect with the female spirit of the space. I tried — but the people distracted me. Hagia Sophia has a rich background, however, of being both church and mosque, and though now a museum there is a feeling in this place of the hundreds of years of religious history that have enlivened it’s interior.

The next stop, the Cistern was new for me. It was constructed long ago using scavenged Roman pillars to create a holding tank for city water. Dark and lit at the base of the pillars, it is a mixture of creepy and romantic — more the former than the latter — but definitely worth seeing.

So that was it. We had disembarked the ship that morning — really quite sad to say goodbye to the Azamara’s excellent staff and pampering. I thanked Philip Herbert, the hotel manager again for his kindness and for the wonderful room he had given us — and had several embraces with waiters and other people who had taken exceptionally good care of me.

We transferred for our last night to the Intercontinental Hotel, a chain frequented by Janet’s brother. It was big, glitzy (crystal struts for the winding stairway in the middle of the lobby that went from the first to the second floor) and our room was quite lovely with a nice view of the city and the hotel pool.

It was international style however, and except for European plugs for appliances we could have been anywhere. Some people love the predictability and elegance of such hotels and I like them in the United States. In Europe however, if I can, I prefer something more local. Still, it was a beautiful hotel and well run.

So, how do I rate the trip on the romantic meter? The Azamara was an excellent ship and an easy place to be lovers, tour the islands and watch the sunset. The food, service and spa services were first rate. Our room, the next upgrade from a balcony room, was terrific. It had a big enough balcony for a small table and chairs and a lounge chair. Some of the nicest moments on the trip were spent on that balcony, drinking good coffee and watching one island after another go by. The other balcony rooms were nicely appointed and came with a personal valet, but suffered from modest bathrooms and downright awkward and small showers.

My favorite romantic place on the trip was Santorini, hands down. The views from the town of Oai were breathtakingly beautiful. For monuments, Ephesus of course, but in particular, the relatively new reconstruction of elegant Roman homes. And finally, Istanbul. A city of life, diversity, political contradictions and endless shopping, restaurants, neighborhoods and monuments to explore. This was not my first trip to Istanbul, and it won’t be my last. Next time I want to see much more of Turkey, a land of beauty, art, and mysteries of history.

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Pepper Schwartz serves as the AARP love and relationship ambassador and is the chief relationships expert at Perfectmatch.com.

We didn’t stay long. With a quite lovely and articulate guide to help us understand Ephesus we drove for about a half an hour to join the hordes at the ruins. Note to self: remember last time you were here? It was unbearably hot. New note to self: it was unbearably hot this time too. Pick new season next time.

Well, you might reasonably ask, if it was so ridiculously hot, and you’ve been there twice, why would you go again? The answer, oddly enough, is that even though we are talking about a city created by the ancient Romans, the place keeps changing.

Last time I was here I marveled at the white marble entrance and Arcadian Way, the two story library façade, the toilets (built with running water underneath them), and what is thought to have been a bordello. This time there was an entirely new excavation to bowl me over.

It was the restoration in 2000 of the house of an important religious and political official and it was the most impressive ancient Roman living space I have seen - or perhaps the world has seen. A whole house of multiple rooms with their original mosaic floors is in the process of being totally rehabilitated. You walk on modern stairs above the rooms with canvas shading the whole project and the view is remarkable. The home has almost modern touches - an indoor kitchen and bathroom, pictures on the wall, granite finishes, well designed air flow. I would have loved to have been a house guest of this family’s.

By the time, however, we reached the justly famed amphitheater (built to seat about one fifth of the population, or in this case, 24,000 people) we had sweated a river and gotten to that hot and prickly stage where only food and air conditioning are interesting. We got both at an inexpensive and unpretentious (but delicious) local place and after about an hour we had cooled down enough to feel human again. Still, the majority of our party dumped the rest of the tour (mostly revered church sites) and headed back to the boat.

My friend Janet and I decided to follow our guide’s suggestion and go see a rug factory and workshop demonstration of silk and wool rug making. We knew these demonstrations are designed to turn us into clients but we didn’t mind. We both enjoyed the manager’s explanation of how silk is gathered from the silkworm and we liked watching young women’s deft fingers create silk or wool patterns. Did we look at rugs? Maybe 50. Did I buy one? No! (I bought two…)

After that there were hugs all around with our guide — and we returned to the boat barely able to consider dinner — but rallying for the usual feast, this time in Aquafina, the other upscale restaurant on the boat. It was an excellent finish to a memorable day — but I would have to say that I’d put this excursion more on a must do list for intellectual growth than relationship romance. It was so hot that people’s personalities started to fray and I could imagine a couple with conflicting agendas (”time to go” versus” “we have to see it all”) could get into some nasty exchanges.

Better idea: regular evening concerts and performances are held in the amphitheater and some of the great talents of the world have performed by torchlight there. Now that would be romantic.

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Pepper Schwartz serves as the AARP love and relationship ambassador and is the chief relationships expert at Perfectmatch.com.

The port is about a seven euro (or 16 lira) ride from the center of the city. The road into town goes by what looks like a lovely hotel with a smashing view (Diamond of Bodrum), good looking apartments and condos, and settles down into a bustling, clean commercial center that is a short walk from the historic castle in the harbor.

The shops on the way are pretty enticing. I saw some lovely bedspread-sized embroidered textiles from Uzbekistan and told myself to stop there after my visit to the castle and the underwater museum inside it. I had been warned that the underwater museum was not underwater, but apparently a lot of tourists don’t know that so several signs were posted to disabuse people of the idea that they were entering some sort of aquarium. But truly, even if you were disappointed to find everything high and dry, you would likely feel compensated by the quality of the artifacts that have been rescued from the sea and the very good explanations (in both English and Turkish) about the significance of the artifacts.

The castle itself was handsome with several levels of gardens and some awesome views. One caveat here: the path can be steep and uneven and if you are at all unsteady on your feet, it could be daunting. However, it’s worth seeing even if you have to take the incline at a slow pace and if you skip the dungeon — as I did — it is a very romantic excursion. Inside the castle, shaded gardens provided places to stop and rest. Outside, down at the port, a walk along the quay revealed the most amazing row of teak yachts I have ever seen. Called gulets, they were all polished and perfect — waiting for a lucky owner — or a charter to sail them into some of the luscious coves of the Turquoise Coast. (Seduced by the idea of swimming off a secluded beach, two of our party, Ed and PJ, went off to Camel beach, however, it turned out to be quite urban and not appropriate for snorkeling. Still, it was refreshing — the heat by this time was in the nineties.)

As for me, after exploring the castle and exhibits for a couple of hours, I went back to see the shop I had noticed earlier. Galeri Anatolia had beautiful oriental carpets and kilims — but I was still stuck on the embroidered textiles and ended up buying two.

After a very civilized bargaining session, the owner, Ercan Actkel, invited me to have tea with her — quite a common occurrence in carpet shops. She, however, was an uncommon person, a fascinating and independent lady who had many famous clients and extensive knowledge of the United States and the rest of the world. We knew people in common from Seattle (!) and she was so knowledgeable and personable that an hour spent chatting about her life, her business and her clients just whizzed by.

She had come to Bodrum in the 1970s (for love, of course) when the town was only about four thousand people, and made a great success out of her shop and real estate investing. She had (and has) an adventurous life — I will enjoy remembering her stories as much as looking at the beautiful things I bought from her.

That night was a night for romantics. We ate dinner at C Prime, one of the particularly good restaurants on the Azamara Quest and then went back to our room. The port was lit up, and Bodrum twinkled brightly not too far away from the boat. We opened up the doors to our balcony and let the sounds of the water and shore waft in. Every now and then a party boat full of dancing (and probably drunken) revelers would pass by and the music would stay in the air and then, as the boat veered away, grow quieter little by little until it disappeared entirely.

If my guy had been with me, I can imagine we would have held hands or cuddled and felt lucky to be together. My friend Janet and I enjoyed the moment — but it definitely held different romantic possibilities for couples. It made me think how different some trips are for couples versus singles. I think the Greek Islands and the Turkish coast are totally enjoyable for people who are not in a couple — but there are definitely moments when you could reasonably wish to be with someone you loved.

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Pepper Schwartz serves as the AARP love and relationship ambassador and is the chief relationships expert at Perfectmatch.com.

However, as the boat turns to dock in the harbor abutting the medieval part of the city Rhodes Town comes into view, and it satisfies. The medieval fortress walls are impressive and the castle behind it is visible from the water. It’s “younger” than the ruins we have been seeing—and vaults us into visions of knights rather than Greek Gods. It’s actually refreshing to see a whole new kind of city.

You disembark a very short walk from the entrances to the city within the walls and as usual, the streets are lined with shops leading to the biggest tourists sights: the halls and buildings of the Knights of St. John who lived here, on and off, for a couple of hundred years, starting early in the 14^th century. The architecture is military and stark, but because so many buildings are relatively intact, there is a nice overall effect. Many of the historic buildings are still inhabited, so its nice to be in an old city that still has some life in it! There are plenty of tourists in this city too, so it has an urban feel.

Our guide (speaking fluid English with an accent picked up in Manchester!) led us directly to the Hospital of the Knights which now houses the Archaeological Museum. The 15^th century building is the largest open to the public and its got a number of grand spaces. There are beautiful plazas and a quite romantic garden with ancient statuary in it. Most impressive to me were the Roman mosaic floors imported from Kos (another Greek island). They were in great shape—almost all were intact and had exquisite details.

What was disconcerting and disturbing were the changes done to the building during the Italian occupation under Mussolini. While some of the Italian work was an expensive renovation of the rooms, there was one plaque carved in stone which was a declaration from the dictator that included a new way of dating future history: after the emergence of Mussolini. Fortunately, he never got to revise the way we count years, but it was a chilling reminder of what kind of men the Allies fought in the Second World War.

The streets of Rhodes were pleasant to walk through with a number of churches and interesting ruins. There is also an old Jewish quarter—also sad to see since almost all of Rhodes’s Jews were deported and only 50 out of the 200 escaped being murdered by the Nazis. There is a restored Synagogue that was funded by survivors.

This town was not as carefree an experience as the previous islands-too much “modern” history had intervened. Some of our group cut off to go to one of Rhodes’s famed beaches, and some took the half an hour or so ride to Lindos, an ancient and supposedly charming city. I, however, cut back to the boat to get a massage.

I am sure the beach was worth it but the massage was so good that I know I made the right choice for myself. The masseuse kept asking until she got the pressure just right and there was a “tropical shower” afterwards that shot water at about six places on my body. Oh happy day. This would, of course, have been over the top romantic if it was coed…but sadly, no.

I dragged myself out of the shower (can you use up all the hot water in a ship?), got my act together to go to dinner, and went early to bed. There was entertainment on the ship but between the sun, absorbing the day’s history lesson, and the massage, it was all I could do just to sit up straight to eat.

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Pepper Schwartz serves as the AARP love and relationship ambassador and is the chief relationships expert at Perfectmatch.com.

Sometimes my memory exaggerates places — but in this case, not a bit. Santorini, seen by sea, is totally compelling. By day, it looks at first like snow is dusting the mountain — by night, it is a mass of twinkling lights, and you half expect everyone to break into dance and song a la Mama Mia.

There is not, however, dancing in the streets, but there are a few donkeys ambling down the cobblestones. Donkeys (or mules) are still one way you climb the steep hill from the water to Fira (the main town), and while this may be a bit too odiferous for some people in hot weather, I find it charming. Last time I was here I loved the trip up on the donkeys — this time I tried the chair lift which was efficient but not as memorable.

Santorini is certainly too commercial for some people’s taste, but not for mine. I love looking at the jewelry, art, clothes and other offerings. This is not always a romantic pastime — most men are not as enthusiastic about that much  capitalist grazing. But it’s fun if you don’t overdo it. My group thought the shops were of better quality than in Mykonos, and we left several shops with a lot less merchandise than they began the day with.

Walking around, however, was a bit taxing for some of our group. The cobblestones are attractive but if you are an unsteady walker you could take a tumble (I saw two people trip and fall). This is simply not a town for someone with a disability.

We had decided to go to Oia, a town on the north of the island, reputably high on the charm and romance index. Rejecting the idea of a 30-plus euro cab ride we went to the central bus station and caught bus number one. After a decidedly uncomfortable but cheap (1.40 euros) bus ride, we arrived in town and headed off to get some food and a good view of the caldera.

The town proved to be smaller than Fira but more elegant. The views were spectacular (and there is no hyperbole here).  Starving, we took a chance on a restaurant because it had a lovely walkway full of geraniums and because it seemed like it would face the caldera. We  succeeded beyond our wildest hopes — so let my dumb luck be your plan for when you come to Oia.

The restaurant is called Strogili — it is right off the main shopping street — and the food was absolutely delicious. The eggplant so mesmerized my friend’s husband that he took pictures of it, and wheedled the recipe out of the waiter. The grilled grouper was perfect. The view  was so awesome, so romantic that it would be on my list of places to propose. In fact, we were seated next to a group who had come there to be married, so I guess I’m not the first person to have this idea.

Santorini is very beachy. Perissa and Kamari have black sand beaches and people swore to us that the water was warmer there because the black sand absorbed more heat. I didn’t test that thesis — we ran out of time to try them and went back to the Asamara to shed our sweaty clothes and get cleaned up for the Greek feast and dancing.

It was a lavish affair — there were mountains of grilled lamb chops and an endless buffet; the whole boat was seated around the pool on three levels cheering on the dancers and in some cases, joining them. I was not drinking enough to get into a line of dancing strangers; my friends and I gravitated to the third floor where we played shuffleboard under the lights of Santorini, dancing intermittently when the classic rock and roll band came on. It was a swell end to a superb day.

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Pepper Schwartz serves as the AARP love and relationship ambassador and is the chief relationships expert at Perfectmatch.com.

I don’t know why I expected the ship’s doctor to be primarily a “say ah, and take an aspirin“ kind of person—but I did. I am happy to say, I was very wrong.  He gave me a thorough physical and did a  blood test which he analyzed while I was still in the office. I left loaded with effective medicines—and a new respect for the Azamara’s medical program.

Then I was off to Mykonos—an island I had not visited before. The small island has become popular for its beaches and its liberal attitudes. I was surprised, for example, when the first postcard place we went into after getting off the tender had erotic gay and heterosexual postcards. Shows you how out of touch I can be. Everyone else knew that Mykonos is gay and sex friendly, and we found adequate proof of that when we went on a bus ride, and then a boat ride to Paradise Beach and several beaches past that.

We went to Ileo, a beach two stops beyond because one woman said there was Techno music at Paradise and that the beaches beyond Super Paradise (also a beach!) were quiet. What was she smoking? The last beach drop off was a hub of activity—nude men embracing, heavy-set nudists congregating at waterside and topless women of all sizes strutting their stuff up and down the beach.

Fascinating as all this was, it was a little too hectic and fleshy to be romantic, and the cold water was an added romance quasher, at least for me. I think if we’d stayed at Paradise we would have done better even with the Techno music.

The town of Mykonos has all the requisite parts for romance. The doors and windows of the white houses are painted with primary bright colors and there is bougainvillea crawling over a lot of houses and restaurants. There are the winding streets, some of them so narrow that only an average size person can walk through them, and there are countless shops, heavily dominated by jewelry and clothes—some inexpensive (the islands produce some of the most whimsical and well priced jewelry of any place I’ve been), but also  some serious investment gems and 18 and 24 carat gold pieces. In fact, the harbor is dotted with outrageously big yachts and it’s not hard to imagine that the owners of these floating palaces need some seriously over-the-top trinkets to make a stop in a shop worth their while.

The sun beat down on us as we explored the town and I have to say I started to visit shops according to how much shade there was and whether they had air conditioning. We got lost a few times, but we were supposed to: the maze of streets was constructed to undermine pirate attempts by allowing locals to get the upper hand on attackers. These days the configuration just makes exploring more interesting.

If churches interest you—this is your city. There are more than 400 of them although some of them are about as big as your garage. The most impressive is the gorgeous and commonly photographed Byzantine Panagia Paraportiani. One of the chapels is open to visitors all day. There is also a good archaeological museum with a number of artifacts from Delos and Rhenia. In fact, you could do worse than take a boat ride to nearby Delos. The island is uninhabited and preserved as much as possible (over the centuries all the historic sites have been ravaged by vandals, conquerors, thieves, and amateur and professional archaeologists). Greeks in the 3rd century used it to celebrate it as the birthplace  of Apollo. It has some awesome ruins and a tour puts history into perspective: a good balance to the sybaritic mood of Mykonos.

We went back to the boat to eat dinner and then some of us went to the famed  “Little Venice” area to watch the sun set. It should have been superb—we were on the beach just below the Windmills, which the ship’s lecturer on the islands had assured us that we would all photograph (we did) and looking across the water to the setting sun. The problem: Little Venice smelled a lot like the real Venice. A mild, but anti-romantic stench rose up from the water’s edge—and I would advise that just in case this is a common occurrence, you sit back a few rows from the water. Or, just skip that area and look for nightlife in the center of town. Mykonos seems to be the party capital of the Cyclades, so  you won’t have trouble finding music, dancing or serious drinking.

The feel of Mykonos by day or night is young, carefree and sensual. There are elegant places to stay, and then rooms for rent that are, to say the least, modest. I gather that the famous windmills are now habitable and can be had for a small fortune. They might be worth it—the view from there is stunning.

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Pepper Schwartz serves as the AARP love and relationship ambassador and is the chief relationships expert at Perfectmatch.com.

The High Line, an elevated garden built on an old freight railroad line, runs through Chelsea and the Meat Packing district, which, like most of Manhattan, is now upscale. When I was growing up, this area was treacherous, true meat packing was going on as well as other nefarious activities. Today, the neighborhood is bustling with fancy shops and the new High Line is a treasure to behold.

Initially built in 1934, the raised tracks fell into disrepair when the last train ran in 1980. Two locals from the neighborhood spearheaded the renovations, and with cooperation and money from the city, the newly renovated High Line opened to the public a year ago. The plantings are wild and yet beautifully landscaped, with gardeners working daily.

My visit on a muggy June day was literally a breath of fresh air. The views of the city are so different, looking down a street from upon high. There are wooden chaise longues to recline and take in some sun, a small café and a new water element under construction.  The day I was there, it was a mix of locals and tourists, lots of moms with strollers…I even caught a glimpse of a butterfly resting on the grasses. There are plans to extend the High Line to 30th Street.

If you are making a visit to NY I highly recommend a trip there and if you are hankering for some nibbles, head to the Chelsea Market nearby where you can find everything from scrumptious lobster bisque to the most outrageous baked treats.

We had coffee on our balcony and as far as romance goes — I would say do anything you can to get a balcony — and use it. Just sitting out there in the morning — taking in the view and taking time to get rid of the morning fuzzies — is centering. It helps that the coffee on the Quest is dark and delicious.

An hour plus later, after getting a little protein at the buffet on the floor above us,  we took the tender into the harbor and saw immediately to our left a mini church — the first of many that we would see throughout the islands. The town is bedecked with flowers, colorful and cheerful. There is a promenade directly in front of the landing that seems to be the place to be for people watching.

Nauplion also has the winding streets of the other islands but seems more open, a bit more classically European. I concentrated my time on looking at shops in the town (not too much that was interesting except a worry bead store and museum that had some beautiful selections) and then took a tour  out to the ruins of the castle of Agamemnon.

Some of our party rented a car and went up to see the  17^th century Palamidi castle, which sounded smarter to me than walking the 999 steps.  It’s an impressive building and I am told that there is the additional reward of a beautiful view — but I think it’s hard not to have fantastic views from almost any place you go on the islands.

I went to Mycenae to see what was left of its massive walls (the extremely dramatic and super chatty guide called them Cyclopean walls and I couldn’t get the idea out of my head that there would be one big eye in the center of them — but sadly, no.)  The treat of seeing this castle is the Lions gate (two beautiful lions’ bodies, missing their heads but impressive nonetheless) and seeing the extensive layout of what was certainly a king’s palace.

Because of limited time I had to choose between this ancient site and the ancient Theater of Epidaurus in Epidavros — also about half an hour out of town. If I had to do it all over again I would choose the Theater if I only had time to see one of these places. The pictures of it show a grand theater, still used for plays by the classic Greek masters. Next time.

The sun is huge in this part of the world and while some of our group went to Karathona beach near the Palamidi fort, I didn’t want to go there in 90 degree heat. The beach group reported that it was a really nice sand beach with little development except for a couple of tavernas at the far end. The water was shallow and warmer than some other beaches that dropped off quickly into deeper sea. The privacy and simplicity of the place puts Karathona high on the romance index. (Most of the popular beaches on the islands are really crowded.)

Having had all the sun I could handle,  I high-tailed it back to the ship — in time to get a knock on the door from “my” butler — with new choices of sweets and savories. This was a spread of pastries, but also cold shrimp, chicken wings and an olive and tomato salad. I could get used to this.

After having my “snack” on the balcony of my room, I had a nap for about an hour — an act that defines vacation to me. Then I took one of my showers for the day (it is impossible to stay refreshed in that heat without becoming obsessively attached to one’s shower) and spiffed up to have dinner at the captain’s table.

We all gathered for drinks first — and a superb Argentinian guitarist played music in the background (he actually deserved more of a front and center spot). Various guests arrived and finally, the captain, Leif Karlsson, a man originally from Finland but living in Sweden, greeted the ten of us. He  was an extremely nice man who said he had been unprepared for the public meet-and-greet part of his role — but he did it well.

There were  a number of world travelers at the table, including two mother and daughter pairs — one from Sydney, the other from Copenhagen. (I had a twinge thinking how nice it would be to do a trip like this with my daughter or son!) Next to us was a couple from Arizona who were on their fifth Azamara cruise in two and a half years! They had gone back to back — from Egypt and Israel to this Greek trip. They were retired and very at ease and happy with one another. Maybe retirement and cruises are the secret to a happy marriage.

Commenting on the international flavor of the boat, Captain Karlson remarked that the staff of the Azamara Quest covered 48  different countries. If you want inspiration to think about living a different life from the one you have, an international ship is not a bad place to go for ideas.

Shipboard entertainment is usually uneven. So far there had been a young attractive group singing Broadway musicals in the most canned way you could possibly imagine — and a magician who most people thought was very good. I did not have the energy to stay up for the magician or last through the singers, but one night  a group of about fifty people watched the World Cup match between England and the USA. That was terrific fun — people were wearing their soccer shirts from various countries — but there was great enthusiasm for America as the underdog. When the USA got it’s only goal to tie the game, I could go back to my cabin and sleep contentedly.

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Pepper Schwartz serves as the AARP love and relationship ambassador and is the chief relationships expert at Perfectmatch.com.

The  ship looks a lot like a Four Seasons inside — elegant dark wood, curving staircases — it’s easy to forget this is a boat. The cabin itself was lovely but somewhat narrow and the shower did not speak romance to me. Happily, we were upgraded to a suite  (low on the hierarchy of suites that Azmara has but a huge improvement over our previous cabin). The suite has everything I want in a cruise room — a private balcony with room enough to eat and lounge and a bathroom that two people can use without elbowing each other in a territorial power grab for sink space.  Most important to me: there is a tub and a shower two people could use together if they were inclined to do so.

The suite has all kinds of other nice touches as well. At three o’clock, “your” butler arrives with a tea service; it’s kind of a shock to open your door and see a linen-bedecked tea cart spread with desert delicacies. Nonetheless, I got over my shock, and took three. About an hour later, another knock and there he was again, with savories (calamari, grilled chicken and shrimp cocktail). He will set this up for the two of you on your balcony  or in front of the small couch in your room. Does this sound romantic to you? I was missing my guy big time now.

The ship feels intimate. All the cabins have been designed not to feel institutional. It’s easy to feel there are only a few hundred people on the boat with you — and that is especially true for the two specialty restaurants where most people have to pay a fifteen dollar surcharge to dine (suites get it free, another nice touch). Actually, there are very few “nickle and dime” extras that you have to pay for: your cokes and wine at meals are free and you only pay for  excursions and discretionary purchases. I like that a lot. I think if you  are on a romantic vacation you don’t want to have to check with each other every ten minutes about whether to spend money on wine, or how much to tip everyone. The easier the better — most everything is  figured out in your initial price.

I interviewed the ship’s hotelier Philip Herbert and charming guy that he is (I have often wondered if any non-charming people work on ships), he is dedicated to making the trip special for couples. Want a marriage or recommitment ceremony? A special evening out? A room bedecked with rose petals and fresh flowers? It’s all possible, just ask.

So here we are, looking out the window at blue water and bright skies and about to pull in to our first shore excursion. Life is good.

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Pepper Schwartz serves as the AARP love and relationship ambassador and is the chief relationships expert at Perfectmatch.com.

The boat will board in Athens, so we came a day early to see a bit more of the city than I’d ever allotted time for. I’m glad I did. Many people are told to skip Athens, and while I understand that the city is gritty and the traffic can be horrendous, that advice is  wrong. (I say this even though we had a tough time getting to our hotel because several streets were blocked off  because of a one-day strike).

Still, Athens not only has the Acropolis and Parthenon dominating the skyline of the old city, but the old city itself is a worthy destination for romantic moments.

The Plaka, as it’s called, is a mixture of romantic restaurants that spill onto the streets, fine shops and curios and wonderful small museums. I liked the Folk Art museum and a small but touching Jewish Museum). The streets are narrow and wind around in a charming non-linear way and the people-watching is first class.

We wandered down Adrianou, a terrific street full of small restaurants, the smell of grilled chicken and lamb like a siren call to my appetite. Most of the diners are seated on outdoor patios protected from the relentless summer sun by awnings or greenery. Along the way we passed a major ruin, Hadrian’s Library, and when we reached the restored ancient Greek marketplace, we found that most of the restaurants there have a gorgeous view of the Acropolis. An exception is Kouti — but it has  terrific vegetarian cuisine and you can catch the view from an even better vantage point later on.

That vantage point is on the roof garden of the Central Hotel, also on Adrianou. A charming boutique hotel at a great price (about 138 Euros including breakfast), it is a real romantic jewel because of the view from its roof garden. On the roof (where you are allowed to bring your own wine, food, whatever) you have an utterly splendid view of the Acropolis — and when it’s all lit up at night, it’s one of those views that makes you stop talking, and, if you are with your honey, wordlessly take each other’s hand, and just stare at the glory of ancient Greece.

The second day was more about filling our brains than our hearts. We went to the Old Archaeology Museum and then to the new one. Everyone is hyping the new one but let me be clear: the old one has the masterworks that make the trip to Athens absolutely necessary. Yes, the new museum has one amazing attraction: when you walk in the courtyard you walk over a series of glass floors that let you look down at archaeological finds and digs in progress that are truly amazing and fascinating. The rest of the collection, however, pales compared to the older museum, so see both — but if you can only see one — see the old one.

Then end your day like we did — with iced cappuccinos — seated at  yet another great street cafe looking up at the lighted panorama of ancient monuments.

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Pepper Schwartz serves as the AARP love and relationship ambassador and is the chief relationships expert at Perfectmatch.com.