On board Queen Anne, the first new Cunard ship in 14 years
The 2992-passenger liner from the British heritage operator has sailed its maiden voyage. Here's what it was like.
Britannia no longer rules the waves but it’s fair to say that Cunard reigns over myriad seas and oceans with its fleet named for royal rulers, the latest of which, Queen Anne, was launched amid pomp and fanfare as cold night skies bloomed with fireworks at Southampton’s Mayflower Cruise Terminal on May 1.
The 2996-passenger liner, the 249th in the long-established fleet, is a sleek beauty of fine Art Deco-inspired lines, marble and murals, and enough contemporary bells and whistles to attract a slightly younger demographic than the norm for this heritage line.
In this regard, forget quoits and knobbly knees competitions, set menus and exact dinner times, and hail such unexpected attractions as the speakeasy-style Bright Lights Society venue with nightclub seating, saucy performers and the slightly terrifying prospect of audience participation.
Nonetheless, all seems reassuringly familiar to Cunard regulars, of which there are legions who love the notion of being afloat not on a parvenu cruise vessel but a proper ocean liner with the feel of, say, Claridge’s Hotel, relocated with moving scenery, deckchairs and lifeboats. However, there’s no minimising the reality of negotiating a ship of such proportions and the inevitable queues in peak periods.
Over the first few days, many passengers joke about the need to leave a trail of breadcrumbs (or pork scratchings, perhaps) to find their way back to wherever they started, such is the acreage and the number of vestibules where (surprisingly slow) elevators arrive (or not). The electronics are misbehaving on this maiden run, but surely sorted by now, especially the My Voyage app, a portal designed for convenience that causes minor chaos at times.
But the Brits do excel at organisation and a strict regard for protocols, so there’s a lot of reassuring rallying and impromptu tutorials on how to reserve a dinner table or book a shore excursion.
The maiden round-trip from Southampton to ports in Spain and Portugal is tinged for me with an odd sense of nostalgia. It was from this famous maritime city in Hampshire, many decades ago, that my parents and I set off for Sydney via the Suez Canal and places as mystical as Aden and Colombo.
Our P&O ship wasn’t a grand affair, and I did fall out of a top bunk as we rounded the bumpy Bay of Biscay, but it was a six-week adventure that remains relatively clear in my mind, albeit softened with reimagining.
Perhaps it was that crossing that set me off on a career that has come to include many cruises, although my late father would always insist the proper description should be voyages. And he would have loved Queen Anne, which feels properly nautical and grand, as if “going somewhere” is what it’s all about, if not to conquer, then surely to make a slightly pompous entrance in ports where pilot boats shoot welcoming sprays of foamy water as passengers line the high decks waving union jacks.
Our eight-day itinerary features six days at sea, which is not a mix to suit all comers, but the passengers I speak to are veterans of Atlantic crossings and ports are mere interruptions; it’s not so tempting to plod off the gangplank for strolling and stretching when you’re aboard a vessel made for promenading.
There’s the lure of “foreign” shopping for many, of course, and included on this inaugural itinerary are the ports of La Coruna in Galicia, Spain, and Lisbon, both offering retail therapy and myriad opportunities for taking coffee in the colonnades of grand squares. I reboard with an armload of tiles from the latter stop.
A passenger from Manchester asks me if I intend to tile my outdoor dunny in the land down under and then falls about laughing, but it’s easy to make him shut up. With a magician’s flourish, I produce a bagful of Portuguese custard tarts and threaten to shove one in his gob. That sets us both off into gales of convivial giggles and leads to many more chats as we cross paths aboard.
British passengers form the main demographic, which is hardly surprising, and there is a clear sense of stiff-upper-lip traditions being catered for. The Golden Lion pub is a Cunard institution, and Queen Anne’s has been given a style and menu upgrade, thanks to Michelin-starred celebrity chef Michel Roux’s expert hand in jazzing up the offerings with three-cheese toasties (including Ogleshield, a milky variety with a raclette-style melt), meat or veg burgers in brioche buns, a roster of “gourmet” pies with fillings such as steak and red ale, gravy made with lashings of stout, beer-brined smoked ham fritters, and black pudding and apple sausages.
Light and lean fare this is not, but it’s a fun venue, featuring red leather banquettes, brass trimmings, trivia quizzes, the twinkle-eyed Full Irish Duo to entertain, and the prospect of a remedial Golden Mary, made with yellow tomatoes instead of the regulation red, to soothe that hangover.
Afternoon tea is served daily in the Queen’s Room, which is not a room at all but a seating area edging the atrium on deck two, around which tables are set.
But queues are long and, I fear that silver cake forks might be drawn at 20 paces when tardy passengers miss out. It’s a puzzling set-up on a ship that otherwise has an elegant flow, with a lavish array of atriums, winding staircases and multiple bars and lounges.
It takes me a day or two to get my bearings and even then, l’m not convinced I’ve thoroughly explored the 322.5m-long ship, although a rhythm soon kicks in, with an early macchiato and pastry in the Carinthia Lounge. It’s the strong coffee that I need, as the instant granules in my cabin are woeful. Coffee is also served out of press-button machines in the Artisans Food Hall, but that’s for amateurs.
Carinthia Lounge is my saviour, but proper coffee there comes at a cost, even if the pastries are “free”. Likewise, the gelato served on deck (freshly spooned into cones or tubs) attracts a charge.
This is not an all-inclusive ship and there are surcharges at “specialty” restaurants serving Mediterranean, Indian and Japanese cuisine, respectively, plus a premium steakhouse named for the line’s founder, Sir Samuel Cunard. These alternative venues are very popular, and thus hard to get into. They should be twice the size, surely.
I opt most regularly for Aji Wa and the clear taste of its Japanese dishes that showcase ingredients such as wagyu, black cod and yuzu, plus seasonal omakase menus. Adzuki red bean and vanilla creme brulee with “four flower” sorbet is the unassailed star flavour combo of the voyage.
If you’re staying in a top-notch Queen’s Grill, Princess Grill or Club Britannia suite (the last a midway choice that offers good value), those categories have dedicated, and dressy, restaurants and that’s where the caviar and lobster tails appear.
I’m more than happy with my snug Deck 4 cabin, merrily attended by Eugene from Manila, and it all seems a bit too rarefied up top with the toffs, as my father would have put it.
My category comes with a small ensuite and adequate shower recess, tons of storage, seating area, Penhaligon toiletries, classy bed linen, TV loaded with new-release movies, docos and TV channels, and small balcony.
Its associated dining venue is the enormous Britannia Restaurant, where the food is perfectly fine, but tables for two are very close to each other, lined up as if in a diner. A travelling colleague and I are too aware of eavesdropping and eat there only once.
While not making eye contact with those woeful coffee machines in the Artisans Food Hall, I try most of the varieties of cuisine offered here in two long cafeteria-like sections, served by staff from “live cooking” stations and chilled food counters that include a salad bar, pasta and pizza, Asian stir-fries, sushi selections and Middle Eastern flavours plus custardy puddings in abundance. It’s good, fresh fare, and open early to late.
During the day, many passengers also segue through to the pavilion area and grab a burger, fish and chips or hot dog from the take-away counter, or head to the Pavilion Wellness Cafe for smoothies, fresh juices and salads. Throughout, there’s a palpable elegance that encourages dressing up but no one casts a steely gaze on the more casually attired.
There’s democracy in this and a sense of welcome for all ages and classes. Junior guests are catered for in a Play Zone (ages two to seven), Teens Club and a well-supervised Night Nursery available from 6-11pm for little ones up to 23 months. Parents’ night off? Hit the dance floor or grab a late booking at Mareel Wellness and Beauty Spa, which features whirlpools and steam rooms, and closes at 10pm.
By day, there’s latitude for breaks in the circuit of activities. Let the swell of passengers press past and pause in the gallery, where two Banksy works attract attention. And politely observe the nuances of nationalities plus the overall mix of the elderly buoyed by walking sticks, all so cheery and determined; and the book club buddies and extended families.
Seek refuge, too, in the library with its excellent layout, featuring comfy chairs beside windows with panoramic sea views, and stacks of new releases such as titles in Richard Osman’s Thursday Murder Club series, which sail off the shelves quicker than anyone could say “Portuguese tarts”, as my new friend from Manchester takes much delight in quipping.
In the know
A seven-night Norwegian Fjords round-trip cruise aboard Queen Anne departing
July 4, 2025, starts from $2689 a person, twin-share, in a balcony cabin.
Inside Britannia category from $1589.
Susan Kurosawa was a guest of Cunard.
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