What it's like to cruise one of the busiest trade routes in the world

Our writer embarks on a journey laced with old memories and new discoveries.

It starts with a barely perceptible feeling in the feet. Down below, engines are made ready. A giant stirs. We all sense it. We're all excited by it. Passengers - many fresh from the North American winter and pink from their day exploring Bali - gather to watch the activity on the pier below. Introductions are made, jokes shared, travel tales swapped.

Departing by ship is a social occasion, very different than leaving by air, a clinical process in which we're strapped cheek by jowl into our seats but are alone with our thoughts, avoiding conversation with the strangers next to us.

We watch as the gangway is raised, hawsers are slipped from the bollards, and a great rush of water from the Viking Orion's thrusters pushes the ship from the pier.

It's the beginning of a voyage through the Java Sea, stopping in Surabaya, Semarang and Jakarta, before turning north into the Malacca Strait. The ship is to visit Singapore and Klang, the port for Kuala Lumpur, before turning around and making its way to Bangkok. We're headed for one of the busiest trade routes in the world.

For me, the cruise is not as much about sight-seeing as it is about the journey. This part of the world has drawn me back numerous times. But always by air.

I want to reacquaint myself with the pleasure of coming and going by ship. After a lifetime of relentless packing and unpacking, checking in and out of hotels and rushing to and from airports, slowing things down appeals. I want a break from being a FIFO traveller. And I want to relive a seminal part of my childhood.

A wide-eyed boy in the 1960s, back when we spoke of liners not cruise ships, I was taken on a P&O voyage from Sydney to Bombay (now Mumbai) via Hobart, Fremantle, Singapore, Penang and Colombo. The experience planted in me a love of the ocean and ships, a perpetual itch to return to Asia at every opportunity and an addiction to Joseph Conrad and his tales of the sea.

We clear Benoa Harbour and hug the coast of Bali. A lowering sky shrouds the island, cloaking its peaks in mystery. Occasional sunbursts pierce the cloud, silvering patches of ocean in a dramatic show worthy of a Turner seascape. Watching from my own verandah, feeling the gentle rise and fall of the sea and lulled by the hiss of water below, I can't imagine a better place to be on a Friday afternoon.

The temptation is to stay on the verandah, before retreating from the heat to the air-conditioned comfort of the stateroom and stretching out on the bed with a book. But there's a lecture I want to hear.

Dr Kevin Elsby is speaking about the Wallace Line, an invisible boundary that dissects the Indonesian archipelago and runs between Bali and its nearest significant island neighbour, Lombok. On the western side of the line are found birds and animals most common to Asia; on the eastern side, the species more closely resemble those found in Australia.

The theatre is packed, the audience hangs on Elsby's every word. It's clear this is more than a pleasure cruise; it's a voyage of discovery.

Exploring Viking Orion comes first. It's not a monstrous seaborne condominium, nor is it a floating theme park with wave pools, waterslides and casinos. It's a mid-sized ship - crisp, white and elegant - for grown-ups, which for me is perfect.

An infinity pool at the stern, a larger one amidships under a retractable roof, a games deck towards the bow, a promenade deck and a gym are more than sufficient for physical exercise.

But what catches my eye are the collections of books dotted throughout the ship. Being a Norwegian line, many are tales of Arctic exploration and Norse mythology, stacked between Viking-themed ornaments. Among them are also volumes about the wildlife and maritime history of the route we're taking.

A few hours in the main library of the Explorers Lounge while we're docked in Surabaya, Java's second-biggest city, leaves me understanding the origins of the spice trade and how European traders had little to offer the Orient apart from their ships, which could travel further and carry more cargo. Logistics was the great driver of trade and the colonialism that came with it.

Our route along the north coast of Java is steeped in that history.

But it's at Semarang, our second port call on Java, that it really comes alive for me.

I'm up early as we're met by the pilot boat and guided into port. As the sun burns off the haze, the city's spectacular backdrop of Mount Ungaran is revealed, its volcanic summit wearing a scarf of stubborn cloud. Many of the passengers will head to Borobudur - and for good reason. It's the largest Buddhist temple in the world, up there with Angkor Wat as a must-see South East Asian monument.

I've been to Borobudur before so opt instead for a shore excursion to the heritage railway museum at Ambarawa. An old steam loco awaits us at the Willem I railway station, hissing impatiently as it's coupled to a set of ancient wooden carriages.

As we board, that boy from the 1960s awakens again, this time with vivid memories of steam train travel in India. An involuntary but happy tear wells as I sense my long-gone mother warning me not to get too close to the window lest I get soot in my eye.

A piercing shriek from the whistle announces our departure and soon we're rattling past houses on one side and rice paddies on the other. And just as they did all those years ago, locals come out to wave as the train passes.

Sitting on the hard wooden seats, I imagine the Dutch plantation managers and colonial administrators making their way down to Semarang, like Conrad's characters, Europeans adrift in the Orient, caught between two very different worlds.

I think of them, too, in the old Dutch quarter of Jakarta, where some of the old colonial buildings still stand as reminders of old Batavia. A Portuguese cannon stands at the square in front of the sprawling, whitewashed governor's residence. It points down an avenue towards the old harbour, where once stood a forest of masts - Dutch East Indiamen being loaded with spices, coffee and timber bound for Europe.

How things have changed. The activity at the port of Tanjung Priok where we've docked is frenetic and fascinating. Today's forest is made up of cranes on giant wheels, loading and unloading containers. A fellow passenger tells me the giant Star Wars walkers were inspired by container terminal cranes and I certainly see the resemblance. But I check later and discover this is an urban myth.

A day at sea to Singapore at the southern entrance of the Malacca Strait follows. From one horizon to the other, the sea is littered with ships. Bulk carriers, container ships, car carriers, disreputable looking coastal tramps and the odd cruise ship in an unending conga line. It's fascinating to be right in the middle of this artery of trade and commerce, rather than flying over it at 40,000 feet.

At sea, there's time to mingle with the other passengers. For many, it's the first time in Asia. The cruise is like a tasting menu, the shore excursions offering a glimpse into each destination. If they like what they see, they'll return for a longer stay.

"Your first Viking cruise?" some ask, before listing the others they've experienced. It's like being welcomed into a club as a new member. There's a tinge of envy as adventures in the Mediterranean, on the Rhine and up into Scandinavia are recounted.

Awoken by the slowing of the ship's heartbeat, I stand on the verandah to take in our arrival at Singapore. It's very different to the childhood memory. Back then, we docked at a busy pier as dockworkers in conical hats unloaded the disembarking passengers and their luggage. Now, we tie up at a scrupulously clean and orderly passenger terminal.

A tour of the city takes us to the top of the Marina Bay Sands hotel, which overlooks the city centre. The view is spectacular if you like your cities modern and glittering and don't mind the crowd also taking it in.

But for me the highlights are at ground level: the Gardens by the Bay with their spectacular greenhouses and a bumboat cruise on the Singapore River, lined with restored Chinese shophouses and bookended by the heritage Fullerton Hotel. Commissioned as an office building in 1924, the Fullerton is a symbol of empire long overshadowed by the gleaming offices towers of Asian finance. But as we pass by, I can't help thinking I'd love a night or two staying there.

From Singapore, we head up the Malay Peninsula to Port Klang and one of my favourite Asian cities and regular haunts, Kuala Lumpur. Countless times descending into the airport, I've peered through the window spellbound by the impossible number of ships below. Now aboard one of them, I strike up a conversation with an Englishman returning to KL for the first time in 40 years. He's sceptical at my assurances that the Malaysian capital is vastly different now.

Back aboard after a shore excursion sampling Malaysian food and visiting the bustling Petaling Street market, the same Englishman sidles up to me grinning from ear to ear. He spent the day touring the centre of town, taking in the Petronas Towers along the way. "You were right," he says. "This city is wonderful. I'm definitely coming back."

Two days at sea follow and again I find myself ensconced in the ship's libraries. One favourite corner is in the Winter Garden, where I settle in with a biography of Rudyard Kipling and a floor-to-ceiling view of the ocean, completely lost in the story until the arrival of high tea in the afternoon.

Dusk is spent out on deck, basking in the velvet tropical air, wishing the voyage would never end. We steam across the Gulf of Thailand towards Bangkok, where a whirlwind city tour takes us through Chinatown and past the city's gilded wats and palaces. I've seen it all on previous trips and am keen to get back to the ship, for the last night aboard.

Over dinner, I watch passengers bid farewell to the new-found friends - and to the crew members with whom they've formed bonds.

I'm a little sad and there's a new longing. To explore other parts of the world by sea, just as I did as a child. After all these years the magic hasn't faded.

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The ship: Viking Cruises' Viking Orion

The size: 228 metres long, 465 cabins, 930 guests

Good to know: Pack light, there's a laundry on board. This is a grown-up ship, so there are no kids and no casinos or formal nights. A dress code - "elegant casual" - applies after 6pm for all dining venues (except the World Cafe), performances and special events: dresses, skirts or pants for women, and trousers and collared shirts for men.

Get on board: Viking's 13-day Bangkok, Bali and Beyond voyage from Bali to Bangkok or reverse - is priced from $8795 per person. It can be booked as a standalone or part of a longer cruise.

Explore more: vikingcruises.com.au