Giles Woodforde takes a trip on Royal Caribbean International’s Oasis of the Seas

In the 1920s and 30s proud cinema owners delighted in adding an extra zero or two to their vital statistics. When they advertised the opening of their latest Ritz or Regal, they would bump up the true seating capacity.

Or they would considerably enhance the real cost and size of the cinema’s ‘mighty’ Wurlitzer organ.

But Royal Caribbean International’s mammoth cruise ship Oasis of the Seas needs no upward massaging of the figures. With a gross tonnage of 225,282, a length and width of 1,187 x 215 feet, 16 passenger decks, and accommodation for 5,400 guests (occupying double or twin beds) or 6,360 (with all possible bunks for children added) she is, with her sister Allure of the Seas, the biggest cruise ship ever built.

Her cost? US$1.4 billion.

One more statistic: Oasis’s Opal Theatre seats 2,160 – 300 more than the New Theatre, Oxford.

Oasis consists of two separate tower blocks of cabins separated by the main public areas, which run down the centre of the ship – think plain, white bread sandwich stuffed with an exotic, theme park-style filling.

Some of the public areas are enclosed, others are open to the sky.

Stepping on board for the first time, you get an immediate feeling of the ship’s great size. An enormous fountain stretches heavenwards, and loud music reverberates around, mixed with the sound of many voices. The atmosphere is rather like Oxford’s St Giles Fair – and indeed there is a genuine fairground carousel ride on board.

Our comfortable cabin quickly located (signage is good), it was time for lunch, and a whoosh up to Deck 16 in one of Oasis’s 24 elevators (not lifts, you’re on board a floating slice of the USA here) lands you in the Windjammer Marketplace buffet. The food is nothing special in this busy area, but the view is stunning, through floor to ceiling windows.

There are 20-plus separate eateries in all, ranging from the 3,056-seater Opus main dining room, to burger joint Johnny Rockets, to steakhouse Chops Grille, to the top-price 150 Central Park.

Some restaurants attract an extra charge, others are included in the fare. We sampled an immaculately cooked and served six-course dinner at Central Park – at $40 (say £26) a head for the food, it was worth every cent.

Meals in the Opus dining room were perfectly adequate but not memorable – hardly surprising, given the huge number of mouths to feed.

Need to watch the waistline? It’s good to know that 2.4 circuits round the promenade deck equal one mile. But woe betide you if you should set off in the incorrect direction: WRONG WAY pronounces a bossy signboard. Other promenade deck signs carry ominous messages: “Spend it now” is followed, a few puffs of exercise later, by “You may not last”. The cynical could interpret this loaded statement as an invitation to visit the vast, glittering, onboard casino without delay.

There’s a great experience to be had at the back end of the promenade deck. Look down at the frothing water below, and you get a real feeling of the power put out by the ship’s state-of-the art propeller system. Turn inwards, and you may see, seemingly inches from your nose, performers leaping high on a trampoline as they rehearse on the stage of the open-air Aqua Theatre.

We saw Oasis of Dreams in the Aqua, and it was pretty darned spectacular. The stage can be flooded in seconds, and choreographed diver-performers surge up through the water, or dive in from two boards. The climax of the show is a particularly breathtaking dive from the top of two 56-feet high towers – the performers must watch cue lights like hawks before they jump, to ensure that the pool way down below is set to its maximum depth of 18 feet.

Oxford Mail:

Coming in many different shapes and sizes, Oasis’s 21 public swimming pools are a reminder that this is very much a family-orientated ship. If plain old swimming gets a bit boring, there’s always the Flowrider surf simulator: it’s a high pressure water pad where staying on your feet for more than a few seconds without being swept against the back wall in a collapsed heap is a serious achievement.

Across the deck, our friend Evelina was “entirely cool” about trying the Zipline. Strapped tight into a harness, Zipliners are hooked on to a wire that’s slung between the two cabin blocks. Across a yawning gap you slide, with the ground several decks down below. Evelina’s brother Gregor, on the other hand, confessed “the first five seconds were terrifying” after he’d taken his turn across the abyss. Also available are two climbing walls for sea-borne mountaineers.

For me, Central Park is Oasis’s crowning glory. Surrounded by some 12,000 real plants and trees (real grass was planned as well, but that proved a step too far), you can sit and read in this peaceful outdoor oasis (forgive the pun). Birds sing gently in the trees – I assumed courtesy of an artfully concealed sound system, but I could swear I once saw a real bird flitting about.

What’s it like to cruise on such an enormous vessel? “You’ll spend lots of time being jostled in queues,” was the near-unanimous, dire warning delivered by cruise know-it-alls before we set sail.

Yes, at times the sheer number of people does make it feel like rush hour on the London Underground. But we embarked in Barcelona, and it took just 40 minutes from the moment we boarded the shuttle bus in the city centre to the moment we stepped on board. You can easily spend twice that long joining a smaller ship. No big queues, no hanging around in dockside sheds for ages. Similarly, we encountered no delays in getting on and off the ship at either of our two ports of call, Malaga and Vigo.

Arriving in Rotterdam at the end of a week on Oasis, all 20 of us in our group were in unanimous agreement: it’s a bit difficult to fall in love with such an enormous ship, but we wouldn’t have missed the experience for the world.