One Night on Ambition: A Cruise Through Mist, Mystery, and Mild Regret
- Nigel Slippers
- Jul 20, 2025
- 4 min read
Updated: Sep 8, 2025
We boarded Ambition, part of the Ambassador Cruise Line fleet, for a one-night voyage from Newcastle, England, to Dundee, Scotland across the misty North Sea. 🚌 The Bus Ride: Sauna on Wheels
The journey began with a suspiciously punctual bus ride. Always a red flag. Within minutes, we were gently roasted inside a 3.5-hour mobile greenhouse. Picture a Gregg’s steak bake left in a dashboard. By the time we arrived, we’d aged significantly and could legally apply for the priority line. After our mobile sauna ride up the A1, we finally made it to Newcastle’s port, ready to cross that soggy stretch of the North Sea to Dundee.
🧓 Terminal Welcome: Rain & Wheelchairs
All nine buses arrived simultaneously — like a synchronised senior citizens’ flash mob. We were lovingly deposited into the cold drizzle outside a locked terminal. Because nothing says luxury cruise like standing in the rain next to nine damp suitcases and a battalion of walkers.
The priority queue? Twice as long as the normal one, and packed with mobility scooters reverse-parking with terrifying confidence.
🛳️ Boarding: Welcome Aboard the Ambush
Once inside, we were handed cruise cards (shoutout to Nigel Slippers), funneled aboard Ambition — a ship named after something entirely absent during onboarding.
First stop: the bar. Emotional damage control commenced.
🍸 The Bar: Liquid Courage
Guinness from a tin… poured into a Fosters glass. A hate crime. But the cocktail list? Divine chaos.
Long Island Iced Tea: Contained every spirit known to man. And possibly engine cleaner.
Singapore Sling: Like drinking pink regret. We thought it would slow things down. It didn’t.
By cocktail three, the room swayed. Spoiler: it wasn’t the ship.
🛏️ The Cabin: IKEA Meets Crypt Keeper
Looked stylish. Felt like a hostage situation.
Twin beds positioned like estranged siblings in a 1950s boarding school.
Comfort rating: Coffin.
Light switch? Hidden behind a chair, waist height. Like a scavenger hunt for the arthritic.
Bathroom: Plastic. All of it. Smelled like your gran’s airing cupboard on bin day.
Shower: Skipped it. Opted for a tactical face splash and silent reflection.
🎭 Entertainment: From Jazz to Drill
Live music? Genuinely great. Especially after several reality-dissolving cocktails.The muster drill, however, was a soggy dystopia. We stood in the cold rain while staff read out every cabin number like it was bingo at the afterlife. I died a little when they got to “Deck 10, Room 448.”
🧓 Demographic: Cruise of the Nearly Departed
At 40, we were the ship’s unofficial youth ambassadors.
The average passenger age hovered somewhere between 80 and eternity. It was less “adventure at sea,” more Bingo at sea level. We got mistaken for staff. Twice.
☀️ The Sun Deck: CSI: Magaluf
In a fit of optimism (and gin), we changed into swimwear and climbed to the sun deck.
Flooded.
Closed off with crime scene tape.
Staff in hazmat-style high-vis suits mopping like it was Day 3 of the Titanic.
The pool looked like a murder scene from CSI: Magaluf.All that was missing was a chalk outline and a laminated apology from the captain.
🍽️ Dinner: Michelin by Moonlight
Dressed up and baffled by a menu that read like Shakespeare's fever dream. Thankfully, the food was fantastic — possibly because our taste buds had surrendered hours earlier.
Cutlery? Not on the table. Oh no. It was suspended from a giant rack above the table like an industrial utensil chandelier.We played Salad Fork Roulette and hoped for the best.
🍳 Breakfast: Beige Terror
The omelette guy was the happiest man afloat. Either he loved eggs or had lost his mind. The scrambled eggs? Looked like macaroni in beige soup. It jiggled. We ignored it.Other guests seemed unfazed — perhaps because they'd seen worse in World War II.
🌫️ The Views: Mist-tified
We sailed through what could only be described as “being inside a vape pen.”No scenery. No landmarks. Could’ve been sailing in a circle round Grimsby and we wouldn’t have known. Visibility: Brian’s bald spot from Deck 6.
🧓 The Great Escape
Worth noting: we were only on board for the 1-night taster cruise — just enough to sample the chaos, cocktail menu, and caravan-scented toilet without developing trench foot.
Most passengers, however, were booked on the full 11-night voyage, presumably around the British Isles and back through time.
We wish them well. We really do.
And if the ship doesn’t have a morgue, we strongly suggest installing one by night six — because based on the ambient coughing and average age, some passengers may not make it past Aberdeen.
⚓ Dundee Arrival: Rust & Redemption
We arrived in Dundee — after navigating the North Sea that refused to show us anything but mist — your classic North Sea experience, really.” The ship docked beside a rusty shed pretending to be a terminal. Think: post-apocalyptic garden centre.But then… salvation.A lone woman in full Highland regalia absolutely blasting bagpipes like she was auditioning for Braveheart 2: Pipe Harder.She saved the entire experience with one heroic honk.
🧼 Final Thoughts
So if a one-night jaunt across the North Sea—from Newcastle to Dundee—is on your bucket list (or therapy list), here’s what you’re in for… For £140? Incredible value for trauma, cocktails, bingo, and a crash course in British queueing.
Would I go again?Absolutely.Next time I’m packing:
My own light switch
A snorkel
A backup Guinness glass
And 400mg of hope
⭐ Final Rating:
🥃🥃🥃🥃🧻4 Cocktails & 1 Emergency Wet Wipe
Your description of the beds as ‘coffin-like’ was unfair. Coffins at least have padding and dignity.
Guinness in a Fosters glass? That alone should qualify for maritime court. Frankly, I’ve cancelled Christmas over it.
I was in that priority line with my walker and I remember you two! You were the ones blocking the cutlery chandelier while arguing over salad forks
Booked the 11-day version of this trip. Thanks to your review, I’m now packing a snorkel, five flasks of Long Island Iced Tea, and a laminated apology for the sun deck.