All Aboard!! Killing Kitten Heads to the Riviera

There are vacations where you pack sunscreen and expectations. And then there are the kind where you pack curiosity and let the rest unfold.

Enter the £5,000 (or more) adults-only sex cruise sailing out of Britain hosted by Killing Kittens, a floating playground promising tantra workshops, sensual rituals, and enough lube to make customs ask questions. It’s not subtle. It’s not pretending to be. And it’s certainly not interested in everyone. Single men, in particular, need not apply.

This isn’t about exclusion. It’s about chemistry. About balance. About creating an environment where couples can exhale, unclench, and explore without feeling like they’re being hunted across the deck. The organizers know exactly what they’re doing, and so do the people booking cabins without flinching at the price tag.

Onboard, the itinerary reads less like a cruise brochure and more like a permission slip. Guided tantra sessions. Intimacy workshops. Spaces designed for connection: emotional, physical, and everything deliciously in between. This isn’t a frat party at sea. It’s curated desire, served with intention and consent.

And yes, the prudish are already clutching its pearls.

Critics are calling it decadent, excessive, unnecessary. But decadence has always been the language of people who understand pleasure as something worth investing in. Five thousand pounds isn’t just buying access, it’s buying a particular kind of crowd. People who know themselves well enough to say yes. And no. And maybe—if the mood is right.

What’s really got people talking isn’t the tantra or the toys. It’s the rules. The audacity of saying this space isn’t for everyone. That desire works better when it’s designed, not overcrowded. That safety and eroticism aren’t opposites, they’re foreplay.

At sea, away from office emails and school pickup schedules, something shifts. People remember they are bodies before they are roles. And for a few carefully chosen days, the only thing expected of them is presence.

Some call it indulgent. Others call it liberation.

Me? I call it a reminder that pleasure, like travel, is always better when you know exactly where you’re going and who you want there with you. Careful now. Once you start imagining it, the return ticket feels optional.