Insider's guide: How to see the Mediterranean's best spots in 10 days

There are so many ways to start a story about a cruise.

I could start on the day we first board, on which our passports are taken from us at the dock, not to be returned until our final destination, rendering us citizens of the sea for 10 days.

I could open on a bus winding perilously up the jutting rock that is the island of Santorini, where we'll soon be picking our way through the narrow streets and buildings carved straight into the volcanic rock.

I could set the scene in the vast breakfast buffet, the fancy spa or well-equipped gym, or on any number of occasions on which I've appreciated the previously unfamiliar ship traditions, like dressing up for dinner, women being served first and absolutely no level 13.

Instead, I'll start midafternoon, in a bustling tea lounge. The fine china clinks, a string quartet plays, waiters bring trays and trolleys of cakes and sandwiches to the tables, and I have absolutely no idea what day it is or where, exactly, we are.

Peering out the windows doesn't help, as all I can see is the vast expanse of the Mediterranean. And gosh, it's blue.

It's the first and only Sea Day on our 10-day Mediterranean cruise, onboard the mighty Riviera, one of Oceania Cruises' seven small luxury ships. "Small" is a relative term, of course; the Riviera takes 1250 passengers, and around 600 crew members - almost boutique in the luxury cruise world.

The ocean is too choppy for us to safely make our way to the shore, and thus we're confined to the vessel for the day.

But confined is the wrong word. I mean, it's Day 8 on this 11-day journey, and I've only just discovered the aforementioned lounge at which high tea, complete with scones, is served each day. Not to mention the well-appointed library, filled with cosy nooks and buttery leather chairs. Also the wine and charcuterie room, and the casino (this is not a cruise for children).

Welcome aboard the Riviera, a cosmopolitan floating village that, somehow, never feels crowded or cramped.

The Riviera prides itself on its considerable culinary offerings, but the trip revolves around the astounding destinations that appear, like mirages, each morning, just beyond the balcony. Or, depending on the island's size, a few kilometres away, meaning we'll need to get on tenders to get to shore.

The journey takes in 10 destinations, with Athens at the top, Istanbul at the end, and in between, Santorini, Mykonos, Crete, Bodrum, Rhodes, Ephesus, Chios and Bozcaada. It's a journey you'd never be able to complete other than on a cruise, and the itinerary includes an impressive array of organised tours.

My advice is to book as many as possible, although there's something to be said for climbing ashore and simply wandering. But a tour with a canny guide can transform the experience.

Without a guide, we would not have learnt that the low scrubby bushes that cover the whole of Santorini are in fact grapevines, most owned by the local residents, who sell them onto the island's world-famous wineries.

We wouldn't have perceived that the reason the centuries-old bakery on the island of Mykonos had no windows was to keep it hidden from marauding pirates.

And we would never have understood that the dry and dusty ruins of the Palace of Knossos in the centre of Heraklion in Crete were in fact vivid traces of the oldest civilisation, and one of the earliest examples of drains and sewage. The guide sends us on a journey back in time, by standing in a giant crowd of tourists, looking down into the ancient trenches and partly obscured frescoes, and plunging us deep into the past and right back into the present.

Sometimes, though, it pays to listen to locals, or even just follow the crowd. Strolling through the Turkish town of Bodrum, my keen ears pick up a laconic northern English accent amid the American and Turkish dialects. I stop to chat to the shop owner, who says she's lived there for "nearly 25 years", pointing almost ruefully to her wedding ring. "There's only two things you need to know. The castle"- she points left - "and the beach" - points right. And so, with a sense of relief, we have the lay of the land, and know what order in which to enjoy it.

Other places are a revelation. Santorini is rightfully famous for its blinding white facades and vivid blue domes - and has an endless stream of tourists there taking in the views and gawping at the $2000 a night villas that jut right out of the rock. Mykonos, meanwhile, has a well-deserved party reputation. We learn, a day late, that the American comedian Kevin Hart has been there the night before us, to spend his 45th birthday with a modest group of friends, reportedly spending 173,000 euro on a single night and leaving a 37,000 euro tip.

But Rhodes is as magnificent as a film set, meticulously organised and accessible, with cheap ticketing for all the main museums, coherent signage and beautifully displayed artefacts that, jarringly for an Australian used to seeing ancient wonders in large travelling shows in modern museums at home, have all been unearthed nearby.

So too is Heraklion a discovery, beyond the Palace of Knossos - an edgy, well-thumbed city that people clearly live in. I don't know how else to put it, other than the grit of other lives lends an authentic, real-world feel that all the blue domes and grevillea-draped steps cannot.

On the second-last day, we reach Bozcaada, a place about which I know nothing other than its proximity to Troy, at which several people confirm there are, in fact, no ruins to back up some of the most enduring Greek myths and legends. But the town itself is a delight - completely unassuming and authentic, with no English signs, classy little homewares shops, and plenty of cobblestoned lanes at which to stop for coffee.

And arriving, finally, in Istanbul, we awake almost nose-to-nose with the edge of one of the world's most spectacular cities, with its blue-grey domes and minarets. The best tour is the one that takes only half a day, with a trek through the ancient centre, taking in the Hagia Sofia, the Blue Mosque, and the unexpectedly fascinating Basilica Cistern.

It's a sweeping journey, Athens to Istanbul - or the Acropolis to everything that came after.

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This is a Mediterranean cruise, so Greek and Turkish are the order of the day. In theory, that is. Last tender is at 5.30pm each day (weather permitting), and with several specialty restaurants onboard, there is no chance to get weary of any kind of fare. We're booked into a different one each night, and cycle through exceptional Italian (Toscanos), French (Jacques) and pan-Asian (Red Ginger), as well as classic American steaks (Polo Club), traditional Greek lamb, afternoon burgers and casual early-evening pizzas.

The ship's crew encompasses almost 140 chefs (that's one chef to every 10 guests) and 180-odd wait staff, including sommeliers. And, if you're the kind of person who, like me, needs to know these things, around 50 people are employed to wash all those dishes. It's a thrumming ecosystem that functions so well, you can almost forget there was ever a time life wasn't this seamless.

By bedtime each night, I can't imagine ever eating again, and yet one of my favourite times of day quickly becomes breakfast. Most of us turn into garbage guts at the sight of a hotel buffet, but this one is far more refined, even as it's more bounteous. It's a buffet, but the staff insist on serving you directly, thus smoothly curbing all my worst impulses. It's fresh fruit, yoghurt, granola and a long black from the Italian coffee bar to set me up for a day that will steadily devolve into incredible local fare in whatever town or village we arrive in that day, an indulgent afternoon cocktail (think daiquiri) once we're back, something more urbane before dinner (a Manhattan or martini) and then whatever menu we've chosen that night. And look, it's rude not to sample everything that's put in front of you. Before you know it, it's a routine and you can't imagine ever going back to grocery shopping, meal planning and - ugh - cooking.

The cruise also offers chef-led tours and cooking classes. During our trip, we take one with celebrity chef-in-residence Stephanie Hersh, whose last job was as Julia Child's executive assistant for 16 years. She leads us on a food adventure through Kusadasi near Ephesus, where we're invited to eat home-style Turkish food - mezze platters and spicy bean soup and a delicate Turkish ravioli - at a family-run restaurant in a beautifully restored traditional house.

Unlike most passengers, we're lucky enough to get a tour of the Riviera's vast kitchens, where the pastries and bread are baked fresh each day, the recipes and menus are displayed on large digital screens, and the chefs deal with 20,000 fresh eggs, 2950 kilograms of beef and 27 kilograms of caviar each week, among many other things.

And collectively, in the same week, passengers will consume 1800 bottles of Champagne, 2000 bottles of red wine and 2200 bottles of white wine.

These numbers are, ahem, sobering, but only for a moment. It's a holiday, after all! Time to eat another scone - and maybe a cocktail.

THE SHIP: Oceania Riviera

THE SIZE: 239 metres long; 629 cabins, suites and stateooms; 1250 passengers.

GOOD TO KNOW: Timing is key. The endless crowds are a case in point; if possible, don't do this trip in July. It's too hot and the hordes are unbearable. Navigating village lanes clogged with tourists, especially when the locals are trying to get about their own lives, isn't worth it. And the beating midday sun - that actually lasts well into the early evening - isn't a novelty to we Australians, so opt for autumn or late summer.

GET ON BOARD: Oceania Cruises runs several Mediterranean cruises each year, including Istanbul to Athens on Nautica, July 27-August 8 2025, from $9760 per person for a Concierge Veranda Stateroom; and Istanbul to Athens on Vista, September 26-October 3, 2025, from $5900 per person for a Concierge Veranda Stateroom.

EXPLORE MORE: oceaniacruises.com

The writer was a guest of Oceania Cruises.