07-05-2026 First Day at Sea and Dinner at Manfredi's

Day 1 at Sea – North Atlantic

Our first sunrise on Viking Neptune

This was our first full day at sea, and it finally felt as though the voyage had truly begun.

We woke to a sun just barely above the horizon and seas that seemed remarkably gentle compared to what I had expected from the North Atlantic.

The Eplorer Lounge at front of the ship

Lots of comfy chairs and sofas

We wandered up to the Explorer Lounge before eight that morning. It was everything I had hoped it would be: quietly refined, spotless, and wonderfully comfortable. Soft shades of blue reflected the sea outside, woven pillows and cozy throws invited you to linger, and floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around the bow, making it feel as though you were floating just above the Atlantic. The Explorer Lounge quickly became one of my favorite places on the ship.

We thought about having a light breakfast at Mamsen’s, a small café serving pastries, sweets, and lovely Norwegian waffles with berries and cream. One look at the lighter fare convinced us we needed something a bit more substantial, so we headed back to the World Café at the opposite end of Deck 7. Our stateroom was just one deck below on Deck 6, only a few steps from the elevator, making it easy to wander wherever the mood struck us.

First breakfast at the World Cafe

Breakfast at the World Café was delicious. There was Mo’s favorite, sweet ripe watermelon, cooked-to-order eggs and omelets, surprisingly good bacon for a cruise ship, and pastries that were flaky, light, and actually full of flavor. Before we even sat down, our water glasses were filled and coffee and juice were offered while we took turns choosing our breakfast.

I used my walker to make my way through the buffet line, planning to balance my plate on the seat. On that very first morning we got our first glimpse of the kind of impeccable yet nearly invisible service that became one of Viking’s trademarks. The head waiter nodded almost imperceptibly to another staff member, glanced in my direction, and within seconds someone was beside me insisting on carrying my plate. It was the first of many such moments. Whether in the World Café or at the Pool Grill, they always seemed to notice before I even realized I might need help.

Several people swam in the infinity pool at the rear of the ship but I never tried it

After breakfast, Mo and I wandered the ship for nearly three hours without realizing it. Every deck revealed another comfortable nook, another quiet corner, another beautiful view of the endless ocean.

Sea days have their own rhythm. People drift from one deck to another, settling into favorite chairs with books or coffee before wandering off again in hopes of spotting wildlife. By mid-afternoon, while Mo rested in our stateroom, I claimed a comfortable sofa in the Explorer Lounge to wait for a presentation by one of the ship’s naturalists. Soon the front windows were lined with hopeful whale watchers. I joined them from time to time, Vox receiver clipped to my shirt in case the naturalist announced something exciting.

Mo and I enjoying the sunshine on this first sea day of the cruise

The Atlantic remained unbelievably calm, just a gentle, steady roll toward the northwest.

Sunlight streamed through the starboard windows where I sat. Quiet conversation mingled with soft background music while the sea slipped past under mostly clear skies with only the faintest haze along the horizon. The ship rolled gently beneath us, just enough to remind me we were crossing one of the great oceans of the world.

The wildlife presentation turned into a bit of an adventure. My hearing wasn’t quite up to the task, and the Vox receiver stubbornly refused to cooperate. Through the windows I could see our lecturer, a tall, slender fellow with long white hair gathered into a Viking braid and a magnificent gray beard reaching nearly to his chest. I caught scattered words drifting through the room: “waters… breeding grounds… warm summer….” It was enough to remind me that although I’d seen whales along the Pacific Coast, in Hawaii, and in Mexico, this voyage across the North Atlantic would introduce us to an entirely different world.

One surprise was how much I enjoyed the gentle motion of the ship. I’ve battled motion sickness since I was four years old, and our Hawaiian cruise years ago nearly finished me off. This time was different. The slow, easy rocking was almost comforting. I still carried a meclizine tablet in my pocket and had patches waiting in the stateroom if the seas became rough, but so far they stayed tucked away.

By late afternoon I traded thoughts of coffee for a glass of iced tea and simply watched the ocean slide past the windows. It struck me then that I had come to love the feeling of a ship at sea, not enough motion to unsettle me, just enough to know I was traveling across one of the great oceans of the world.

The Bar adjacent to the Atrium and near the Living Room of the Neptune

We celebrated another peaceful afternoon with a glass of wine for Mo and a Jack for me in The Bar at the Atrium, part of what Viking calls the Living Room. It was a quiet toast to settling into the rhythm of the voyage.

Specialty Dining at Manfredi’s

One of the things we always look forward to on a cruise is dining in the specialty restaurants. They usually require reservations, and on some cruise lines they come with a hefty surcharge. On our last Oceania cruise through the British Isles, we enjoyed four specialty dinners, all included in the fare.

Viking also includes specialty dining, although our Deluxe Veranda stateroom allowed just two reservations, one at each specialty restaurant: The Chef’s Table and Manfredi’s Italian Restaurant. We were especially looking forward to Manfredi’s after the wonderful meals we had enjoyed in Oceania’s Toscana restaurant.

Our table for two in Manfredi's Italian restaurant

Our reservation was one of the last of the evening, at 8:00 p.m. We arrived a few minutes early and were seated quickly. My first impression, however, was that the restaurant wasn’t especially attractive and didn’t feel particularly Italian. It was fairly crowded and quite loud. Scandinavian design tends toward muted woods, soft grays, and understated elegance. Some people love that style, but for Mo and me it is something of an acquired taste. It didn’t have the warm, colorful ambiance I associate with Italy. Still, after all the excellent meals we’d already enjoyed, our expectations were high.

Our server promptly brought a basket of wonderful Italian breads, olive oil and vinegar, and chunks of beautifully aged Parmesan. I never caught the name of the cheese, but it hardly mattered. It was delicious. Another waiter filled our glasses with Chianti, though I missed which region it came from. I assumed Tuscany. It was a pleasant beginning, even if the restaurant was too noisy to hear much about what we were eating.

For our antipasto we both chose the Caprese salad with sweet pearl tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, olive oil, and basil sauce. It was good, although I couldn’t help wishing for a few fresh basil leaves.

Mo skipped the pasta course, but I ordered the carbonara. The pasta was thicker than I usually make at home, though I remembered Deanna and me encountering that same style while dining in Siena. It was certainly good, but not exceptional. I couldn’t help remembering the carbonara I had at Toscana, which remains one of the best things I’ve ever eaten on any cruise.

For our main course we both chose steak rather than another pasta dish. I ordered the bistecca, hoping for something close to the unforgettable Florentine version we’d enjoyed in Tuscany. True bistecca is a very specific Tuscan specialty made from particular breeds of cattle, and when it’s authentic it is extraordinary.

A decent steak and lovely arugula

It probably wasn’t fair to expect that experience aboard a ship crossing the North Atlantic. This was simply a very good steak, cooked medium rare, tender, and flavorful, but it wasn’t the unforgettable bistecca I remembered. Mo ordered the filet and declared that the ones I make at home are every bit as good.

My side of braised arugula with lemon was excellent. Mo, who is much less adventurous than I am, wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic about her soft bone marrow served in the marrow bone. I sampled a bite. It was silky and interesting, although I had nothing to compare it with.

Our waiter kept our wine glasses filled and checked on us regularly, but the service never quite reached the quietly attentive, almost invisible level we had experienced on Oceania. Overall, the meal was a bit of a disappointment.

For dessert we shared vanilla gelato with caramel sauce. They happily divided it onto two plates, which was a nice touch. We skipped espresso since it was already nearly nine o’clock and we were both ready for bed.

To be fair, we had a cozy table for two near enough to the windows that we could watch the ocean while we ate. After the couple seated at the window left, I snapped a photograph. Mo asked why I was taking a picture of a plain window. I laughed and said, “At least it’s a window.” On Oceania’s specialty Asian restaurant we hadn’t had one at all.

Once the couple left, we could see the ocean beautifully

Looking at that photograph today, I realize I like it far more than I expected. It reminds me of the feeling of sharing a good meal while watching the ocean quietly slide past. The moving water and the gentle motion of the ship are the best part anyway.

The dinner itself earns only a “meh” in my memory. Looking back at the photos, I noticed there weren’t even tablecloths, only woven placemats. It didn’t feel especially luxurious. Perhaps my expectations were simply too high, or perhaps Mo and I have been fortunate enough to enjoy truly exceptional meals over the years, especially during our travels through Italy.

That said, as I look back on the entire voyage, this dinner was the exception rather than the rule. Throughout the cruise we were consistently impressed by the freshness, quality, and preparation of the food aboard Viking Neptune.

One final bit of cruise excitement: a strawberry leaked juice all over Mo’s favorite tan jeans at breakfast. Shampoo barely touched the stain. My Optic White toothpaste helped a little, but the real hero turned out to be denture cleaner. The strawberry stain disappeared completely. Her jeans were soon hanging in the shower to dry, and another small travel story had been added to the collection.

Tomorrow we continue toward Halifax, watching for whales and settling more deeply into the rhythm of life at sea.