For nine years I inspected hulls at the Halcyon yards, which means I have been inside more liner cabins than most stewards, usually behind the panels with a torch. Here is what that taught me about where to sleep: which ring, which side of the ship, and which wall you do not want your bed against.

Spin: the ring decides your weight

A liner makes weight the only way it can, by spinning. Cabins sit on rings that turn round the ship's long axis, and the floor presses up on you because it is constantly being swung round. The further a cabin is from the centre, the faster its floor moves and the heavier you feel. That is the whole of the physics, and it governs most of what follows.

Spin has a second effect that brochures leave out. In a turning room, anything that moves towards or away from the centre is nudged sideways, so a jug pours in a slight curve and standing up quickly can bring a brief, seasick lurch. The nudge is the same on both rings of a ship, but the inner ring gives you less weight to steady yourself against, so there it feels much stronger. Most people stop noticing within two days. Light sleepers notice it every time they roll over.

Outer ring

Noticeably more weight. Water stays in the cup, showers drain properly, and most people sleep more deeply.

  • Usually adds a tenth to a sixth to the fare
  • The sideways lurch is mild
  • The ring to book for any crossing longer than a few days

Inner ring

Lighter, cheaper and, for some, a pleasure: people with sore knees or backs often swear by it, and children love it.

  • The sideways lurch is stronger
  • Showers are slow and spilled tea travels
  • Often the cheapest berths aboard

Windows: sunward or shadow side

Cabin windows are on one side of the ring or the other: sunward, towards Ilyr, or shadow side, away from it. Liners hold the same attitude for most of a crossing, because their shields and radiators are built that way round, so the side you book is the side you get from dock to dock.

Sunward windows are bright, warm and shuttered for much of the day, since Ilyr's glare through an open pane is not something you sit in for long. What they offer is the Reach backlit: on the approach to Tessaly, the rings lit into a halo; around Veyra, the geyser plumes glittering. Shadow-side windows look into the dark. The stars move steadily across the pane as the ring turns, which takes a few minutes to get used to and then becomes the best screen aboard, and the worlds you pass appear lit full face. Further out, the Lantern rises in them. They are also darker for sleeping and a degree or two cooler.

Noise: the drive, the spokes and the galley

Cabins near the drive section, at the stern, have a reputation, and on departure day they earn it: during a burn the drive's hum comes through the hull as a note you feel in your teeth. But a transfer is mostly a long coast. The big burns come at the start and the end, with a few short corrections in between, and for the rest of the crossing an aft cabin is as quiet as any. Aft berths are often priced as if the drive ran all the time. It does not.

The quietest berth on a liner is rarely the most expensive one.

The noises that last all crossing are elsewhere. Where a ring's spokes meet the hub there are bearings, and a cabin beside a spoke hears their low rumble carried down through the floor, along with the lift in the spoke itself, which runs all night. The air and water plant has pumps that cycle every few minutes. The galley starts work hours before breakfast. And a cabin under the gym or beside the bar has its own obvious problem.

For light sleepers. Ask for a cabin mid-way between two spokes, on the outer ring and the shadow side, and nowhere near the galley. Ask by deck plan rather than by cabin grade: two cabins of the same grade can be a world apart in comfort, and the purser can see which is which.

On Halcyon

The same rules hold on Halcyon Station, only gentler. The wheel is 2.4 km across and turns once every 70 seconds, slowly enough that the lurch is barely there on the Rim deck, which gives you nearly your full Calder weight. Rooms on the outer ring are the ones to book: people sleep better in them, and after a liner's lighter rings you will feel the difference on the first night. Expect to pay from about 260 marks a night on the Rim deck and from about 150 on the inner rings, which are lighter, cheaper and perfectly good for a nap between connections.

A window room costs about a third more. For one night, skip it: the window cafés along the Promenade cost the price of a pot of tea. Rooms beside the dock spokes hear the clamps whenever a liner comes in or leaves, so ask for one away from them.

What is worth paying for

After nine years behind the panels, this is my order of spending, most worthwhile first.

  1. The outer ring. Weight is sleep, and sleep is the difference between arriving and recovering.
  2. A shadow-side window on a long crossing. On nine days to Tessaly or eleven to Orrin, it is the view you will live with. On the two days to Selka, it hardly matters.
  3. A berth between spokes. Often free, if you ask early.
  4. A sunward window, only for an arrival you care about. If the rings or the geysers are the point of the trip, it earns its price on the last day.
  5. Not worth it: paying to be far from the drive. An aft cabin is quiet for most of the crossing, and its discount is one of the few real bargains aboard.

The quietest berth on a liner is rarely the most expensive one. It is the one somebody chose with a deck plan in hand.