Addendum

A major factor will be if the ships dock at a planet, an orbital station, or neither, instead sitting in deep space and receiving their passengers from shuttles. In the case of the station, probably a plain exterior will be demanded by the port authority, but in the third case, presenting customers with an awesome view during their approach will be advisable.

It's Never Too Early to Start Planning

When we have big interstellar cruise liners, will it be worth it to paint the exterior, or will people not care about the part they can't see? Or will they see it through drones set up so there can be races on the hull for gambling purposes, given that in space, anything goes? Only market research can determine the truth.

The Cursed Voyage of the Ancient King

"Preserve our heritage!" "Save our king!"
Protestors stuffed the streets, they stuffed the waterfront and the piers. The supervisors and bureaucrats in charge of moving the mummy to the ship and away shook their heads and said they would try again later, knowing the futility of it. The protestors did not disperse before the sun's rays did. Even then they left sentinels.
Every protestor who went home fell promptly into a satisfied sleep, and every one had that sleep disturbed. They dreamed together of an empty chamber, bare but for a terrible presence too noble for eyes belonging to people of their sort to resolve into a person. "A curse," the figure proclaimed. "A curse on all who interrupt my vacation. An unyielding curse!"

* * * * *

"Preserve our leisure!" "Save our king's plans!"
Protestors stuffed the side of the streets, they formed lines to the pier. The supervisors and bureaucrats acquiesced to their demands to move the mummy posthaste, wholly mystified.
Finis

Attractions for the Discerning Tourist

When you're in Lonnpor, you can't miss the Red Palace, the Green Palace, or the Glade Festival. Every traveler who does the research finds out about those. But did you know? There's a parade no tourist should ever see. You want to see it now, don't you?
It's called the Emigration Parade, and it's not on a weekly schedule, or monthly, not even yearly. No wonder it isn't as well known as the Devotion of Sixths! No, this parade is held when the city council determines the place is getting a little packed, population-wise. Then it's time for the worst parade!
There's the grand marshal now. Locals recognize him as the guy who stands on street corners and tells you that if you don't like the weather, you should wait a minute! He's waving forward the band. It's not a good band, as expectedwhen the players are those jerks who make a racket in public areas and glare at anyone who passes without dropping a penny. Who do they think they are?
After them come the bakers with their rolling display! A selection of their wares? An oven so the crowd can see them at work? None of that. It's a set of couches they lounge on while fanning themselves with copies of the charter of monopoly the city granted their great-grandfather! There's a reason they all have the same last name, and also a reason their prices are higher than Rellpor's. Try bringing bread from there into the city. They dare you.
Who's that behind him? It's the city's senior judge, who's just dying to handle your suit personally. Why, you'd have to pay him not to! No, really. Pay him. It turns into a real problem if you don't.
After that, the prisoner cart rolls by. Who are those contemptible souls? Murderers? Robbers? People who told tourists about the Emigration Parade and discouraged growth in that vital industry? We won't keep you in suspense: it's the third one.
On and on it goes, each segment designed to remind locals why they've always thought about leaving but never got around to it. Does it work? Just ask the founders of Rellpor, Eckbor, Ptopor, New Lonnpor, Farther Rellpor, Innbor, Tetti Dann Por, Dedvidau, Osspor . . .
Finis

Space Vacation

"I thought this planet was Space Denmark." The tourist fished out his ticket stub. "Yep. So where are all the Danes?"
"You aren't one either," another tourist pointed out.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that every Dane is out on vacation to Space China, Space India, Space Polynesia, or Space Italy. Please enjoy the authentic Danish architecture and attractions."
"I don't see any of those."
"Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that the construction firms contracted to build authentic Danish architecture and attractions are all out on vacation to Space France, Space Mexico, Space Morocco, or Space Thailand."
"What a rip-off! I want my money back!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that in this post-scarcity society, you have no money and no way to acquire it. Your labor no longer has meaning."
"I know, I know. That's why I've been traveling around for three hundred years. Complaining's part of the fun."
And so all the tourists enjoyed Space Denmark and gave it rave reviews.
Finis

Fountain of Colors

"Pink for births, black for deaths, red for storms and lightning. Today it's green, and we aren't sure what that means. We got our theories, though."
"What are your theories?"
The locals never tired of telling travelers about their theories. The fountain was their favorite landmark, though most non-locals thought the bell tower more impressive. One had to stay in Choices long enough to see the fountain change color to be won over, after all.
"There's those that say it means rain without lightning, though they call it green sometimes when it looks blue to me. I heard another that it meant somebody came up with a good new joke, but the last time they went together, I happened to know that Lal took that joke from Bur. Then there's those what say it happens on days when a big decision gets made, like when we decided to put up the bell tower. It was green then."
The young man to whom the other travelers seemed to defer smiled. "Is that why this city's named Choices, then?"
"Nah, that's because Opi Last Choice founded the city. He was called that because his father liked him the least is how it was, but he lived longer than his brothers. He put in that fountain though when he built his house, you can see it there to the side, and green was the color he liked, so that's part of the theory, that the fountain's honoring the founder." The local pointed at the Choice house while he talked and jabbed his finger toward the green banners that decorated it.
"That's enough for me to believe it," the head traveler said. He took a coin from inside his shirt and hurled it at the fountain, saying, "I'll make up my mind today if you tell me to, fountain."
The coin hit the water and the fountain water flared up high, startling everyone in the plaza. The water turned purple too, which nobody in Choices remembered seeing. The young traveler kneeled, and so did his fellows, and then everyone there because it seemed like the right thing to do, or at least not the wrong thing.
Decades later, long after the pretender's death, the king visited the city with his little son and dunked that prince right in the fountain. The locals had no idea if that was a good idea or not, but the water turned purple again, which was probably auspicious. Later kings maintained that custom and still do right up to this very day, though it caused problems on a couple occasions.
Finis