I went on a 7-day Alaskan cruise for $583 by splitting a 205-square-foot room. Here's what it was li
- To afford a cruise to Alaska, I split a room with three people and slept on a pull-out couch.
- I saved over $800 and my cruise cost me under $600 overall, including my food and drink package.
- We made the entire ship our home, came up with a bathroom plan, and designated areas for our things.
As a 24-year-old just making ends meet, I didn't think I could afford a trip to Alaska. But I couldn't say no to the opportunity of a lifetime.
My friends were going on an Alaskan cruise and, as a born-and-raised Floridian, I wanted in. The Alaskan wilderness (or any wilderness that's not overdeveloped beaches and condos) was unknown and desirable territory for me.
The 7-day cruise set sail from Seattle, Washington, and went around Alaska (Juneau, Skagway, Glacier Bay National Park, Ketchikan), and across the border to Victoria BC before returning to the Pacific Northwest.
We fit four people in our small room, and what would cost a regular patron $1,309.25 for a week-long adventure only cost me $476.90 ($583.70 if you include the all-inclusive drink and food package).
To make it work, I just had to sleep on a pull-out couch-turned-bunk bed in a 205-square-foot room.
During our trip, we spent the least amount of time in our room
I pushed my maximalist self to believe less was more, especially when it came to sleeping space.
Our belongings transformed into fish, being packed as tightly as sardines in a can. My dirty clothes inhabited a grocery bag and my clean clothes were compressed into one drawer under the bunk bed. We were blessed with a closet big enough to fit our coats and some shoes, which gave us with the space to each live out of a designated drawer.
Fortunately, we also had a great balcony view that made the room feel less small.
But with such a tight space, the entire cruise ship became our home. We made use of every crevice and corner for our entertainment. Nap time was no longer on our couch but rather in a lounging chair on the observation deck as we watched the Icy Strait drift by.
We even made a game of our casual nap time, snapping pictures of someone from our 10-strong group when they would succumb to the lullaby of the rocking boat and sea.
When it came for sharing our tiny bathroom among four people, we really honed in our communication skills.
We communicated our bowel needs so everyone could leave accordingly because no one wanted to be present at a time like that. With the entire ship becoming our home, we also scouted for the belle of the bathroom ball. (The best place to tend to our business was on the 14th floor, first stall on the right)
A bit of discomfort was worth being able to experience something so amazing
Alaska's ethereal beauty was unparalleled. From the fjords that spill into the Chilkoot Inlet to the sea otters swimming in Glacier Bay National Park, there was no way sleeping on a pull-out couch was coming between me and this once-in-a-lifetime trip.
If being a temporary minimalist and sacrificing my personal space meant I got to explore the last frontier, so be it.
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