I was one of the first guests on Royal Caribbean’s $1,800-per-person Icon of the Seas. Nothing prepared me for what it was like on the world’s largest cruise ship.

Because plenty of other people don’t.

Michael Bayley, the cruise line’s CEO and president, has been touting the Icon as “the best-selling product in the history of our business.”

I’m no cruise fan, but it’s hard not to be intrigued by a floating resort promising an indoor waterfall, waterpark, and $100,000-a-week cabin.

I even traveled to Finland’s Meyer Turku shipyard in 2023 to tour the ship while it was still under construction.

Ahead of its January 27 debut, Royal Caribbean invited me on a complimentary, three-night preview cruise on January 20.

Reading a list of Icon of the Seas’s amenities is one thing — but seeing it brought to life is another beast.

And that’s exactly what it is — especially if a family’s priority is to keep the children entertained.

The open-air neighborhood has the aesthetic of a giant preschool with bright cartoon decals and small playgrounds (both dry and with water).

But I did not ride the carousel. Nor did I waste my money at the arcade.

You’ve likely heard about this outdoor neighborhood’s amenities, which include a six-slide water park and the Crown’s Edge ride.

I’ll admit it: I loved the water park.

Apologies to whoever heard my throaty yelp and subsequent choking when I slugged a mouthful of warm pool water.

The other slides were typical for any on-land water park — impressive for a ship. However, the two raft slides required more than one rider.

“Why don’t you look scared?” another woman in line asked me as we suited up in our safety gear.

I admitted that I had no idea what to expect. Mentally, I responded with a regret-filled expletive.

I soon found myself contending with my fear of heights as I lept between the suspended platforms like a confused baby frog.

When the last one suddenly dropped from under my feet, I found myself suspended 154 feet above the ocean as I zip-lined back to the start of the course.

But between the drop water slide and Crown’s Edge, the screams coming out of the neighborhood are unavoidable.

I was greeted by a bar (duh), two hot tubs, a suspended infinity pool, and staggered rows of lounge chairs.

But if you’re a parent, it could be the perfect kid-free getaway while your children are romping around the nearby waterpark.

Chill Island was so expansive, the walk to look for your favorite swimming hole could be considered a workout.

The cruise ship had large elevator lobbies with touchscreen kiosks to streamline crowd control. Guests have to enter their desired floors to receive an elevator assignment.

But once inside — and often after a long wait — the elevators’ display screens frequently glitched, leaving me confused about when my stop was coming up.

I found my peaceful retreat at Pearl Cafe, a casual grab-and-go option that looked like it belonged at an airport.

But for the most part, there was no escaping the loud music, visual overload, or crowds.

So, the latter, I did, maybe more often than I ever have on a cruise this short.

A whopping 80% of its 2,805 cabins were designed for families.

Do we think a family of four could peacefully coexist in this 204-square-foot stateroom with a bathroom so small, my elbows were at war with the walls?

But imagine paying hundreds of dollars a night, per person, just to get towels that shed, two-in-one body wash and shampoo, and no conditioner.

(Guests in the $100,000-a-week Ultimate Family Townhouse get high-end Malin and Goetz toiletries!)

A month prior, my dinners on Regent Seven Seas’ new ultra-luxury Seven Seas Grandeur included luscious caviar and succulent foie gras.

The Icon was not the Grandeur.

But the all-you-can-eat feast’s other seafood options were tough and chewy, the avocado on the morning toast was questionably un-avocado-tasting, and the prosciutto was unusually dry.

My pita wrap was satisfactory despite the dense and dry falafels. But my dessert crepe was so sweet, the subsequent sugar rush could’ve had me bouncing overboard.

But my dinner there was uneventful, and my supposedly beloved crab cake was crumbly and over-salted.

I still ate all of it.

But at upcharged Hooked Seafood, the only memorable dish was my appetizer of raw oysters.

College Me would’ve been delighted by the swim-up bar, walk-up Champagne kiosk, and do-it-yourself bar crawl at the Royal Promenade.

However, boring Adult Me was surprisingly satisfied with every watering hole’s “mocktail” options.

There’s no better sight than a rambunctious family friendly parade next to bars full of drunk adults.

However, I found the Royal Promenade’s adult-only comedy club and karaoke bar more entertaining.

The former is a dazzling display of divers, nine-foot-tall robotic arms, and synchronized swimmers.

But my ego was humbled by “The Wizard of Oz,” its delightful Munchkins, and puppet Toto.

The set designs, costumes, and 16-piece live orchestra were impressive for a floating production.

As a solo adult traveler, I wanted to see more quiet lounges. But the ship wasn’t designed for travelers like me (someone who’s scared of chaos and children).

On the other hand, I’m sure a chaos-seeking child would probably never want to disembark.

It could be one of the most overwhelming and exhausting cruise vacations you’ll ever take. (I disembarked Icon of the Seas two weeks ago, and I’m still trying to process everything I saw.)

Icon has the typical kid and teen clubs. But given all the other amenities, these younger travelers probably won’t spend much time there.

At least you could leisure away your afternoons at the adult-only pool club while your children terrorize the water slides nearby.

The new mega vessel will spend the rest of 2024 operating seven-day cruises from Miami to Mexico, the Caribbeans, and Royal Caribbean’s private island Perfect Day at CocoCay.

Fares start at $1,775 per person for a windowless interior cabin.