My first cruise was on the Queen Elizabeth in 1967. My sister and I were on the next to last westbound journey returning from three months of backpacking around Europe. The ship was getting very shabby but it had such an air of glamour about it you didn't notice the frayed carpet or the threadbare drapes. The wide staircases, the ballrooms, the dining rooms were regal compared to the grubby youth hostels and ratty pensiones we had been making our homes. There were three "classes" of decks back then: First Class, Cabin Class and Tourist Class (read: steerage.....guess which one WE were in.) Those of us down with the "great unwashed" were not allowed to mix with the higher classes.....
We had a cabin that was exactly twice as wide as the bunks (you could just open the door without hitting the bunk. Then there was just enough room for two people to get around at the end of the bunks; I think there was one chair. Everything was metal - walls, bunks, lockers (not a closet, definitely). We were lucky that we had a tiny head with a shower, most everyone else on our corridor had to go down the hall to shower. We usually had the room in a complete mess and our lovely Welsh stewardess, a motherly type, asked us one day, "Dearies, do you have a mother living?" We answered to the affirmative and she said "Please give her my sympathy."
Except for a quick and surreptitious tour of "the upper classes" provided by a nice young steward who had an eye for American teenage girls on their own, we had to stay in our class. There wasn't a lot to do during the day except for "horse racing", bridge, etc. so we banded together with a bunch of other young'uns in their late teens and early 20's, hung out in the bars and drank. Mixed drinks were .35, beer was .05. I had the first, second and third cocktails of my life, followed the next morning by the first hangover of my life.
Food was "weird", at least to teenagers. Pickled herring on a bed of chopped onions for breakfast? Grilled kippers? Broiled tomatoes? The menu selection was somewhat limited and what you saw was what you got. Maybe first class got to get custom meals but not in "steerage". No buffets. And no room service in our class. Get hungry at 2:00 a.m.? Well, those pickled herrings are going to look pretty good come 7:00 a.m......
At night after dinner, there was more drinking, followed by an evening of dancing to a live band on a floor that had the surface of an ice rink. When they would cut back the stabilizers for the evening to make better time, the ship started a gentle rolling which made dancing VERY interesting. They have been talking for years about making ballroom dancing an Olympic sport. I can see why. I had bought a sexy little black dress in London and a pair of very high heels....high heels, slippery floors and rolling ships do not make for comfortable dancing. The band mostly played foxtrots and the like, but we would occasionally bribe them to play something a little more lively for us young whippersnappers.
The pool was a cold small tank somewhere in the bowels of the ship..... I took one look and knew I wouldn't be hanging out there. No hairy chest contests, no belly flop contests, no showing off my French bikini. I had entertained visions of draping myself artistically across a deck chair in a flowing dress, reading Sartre in the original French (yeah, right....) and waving languidly at the passers-by. Reality was that you could get wrapped in a blanket by a deck steward while freezing gale-force winds threatened to blow you off the deck and handed a cup of hot consommé that you could either drink or soak your frozen toes in. It wasn't until the last day before hitting New York that it was warm enough to do much strolling.
It seemed that the whole ship's crew was English, Irish, Welsh, or Scottish. They were kind and efficient.
We had a ball and I'll never forget that experience, but in retrospect I think I definitely enjoy the modern-day cruises more. These old bones love their comfort.