Gorgeous, in a word. Fitter than Lucy Liu sitting on a leaky fire hydrant and not nearly as high maintenance.

“You Slag!”:

The Austin Ambassador  was the ultimate retro copshow car that probably never appeared in one during its entire life. It just has that look. A look that generally was very similar to its predecessor, the Princess 2. The Austin Ambassador was tougher somehow; firmer and perfectly able to shift the entire contents of an Elton John garage sale. With fifteen feet, two extra windows and a new split tailgate, you would expect nothing less from the Ambassador. It had the Austin name to live up to for a start, one of reliability problems and rushed build quality. It certainly didn’t disappoint there either.

It Went:

It did go, quite fast for such a mammoth-mobile. Actually, scrap that. Just under thirteen seconds to get 2 litres past the sixty spot is bad news, even for a car weighing nearly one and quarter tonnes. However, like a giant mini-moto, the Austin Ambassador did feel as though it was going a lot faster than it actually was. With gravity and a lecherous white van in the rear-view mirror it almost felt like breaking the speed limit was possible.

From the get-go, the Ambassador strived to be less lovable than a hairless cat. It broke down – a lot; many buyers had their suspicions the chassis was just a stretched out Rice Krispie cake, and many more worried that its tired old MG engine was just not up to the job. Why rush out a follow-up car with an engine barely capable of drag racing a rogue roller-skate? It was cheaper, plain and simple. Though joking apart and with an eye on why we admire the Austin Ambassador so damn much, that crude range of engines were all service friendly and able to hit a hundred thousand miles with the right amount of care.

Inside… a dream:

If you like old school Jags you will like the Austin Ambassador. Not that you will find one anywhere on today’s market, but still. Austin’s famed Vanden Plas edition was the car most likely to inspire extra-marital shenanigans with a bottle of Martini. It came short of ‘luxury’ as such, but it if two-tone brown paintwork was your bag it did enough to compete with the chap next door.

Returning to Ambassador (UK market) scarcity, the Vanden Plas is now probably the only model you will find in decent enough condition to purchase. Whatever happened to the rest of the Austin Ambassadors we just don’t know. Forty-five thousand were made in two years, which might account for something. Or else they’re all being hidden away until that seventies revival kicks-in hard enough for supermarkets to stock kipper ties. Whatever, wherever, if you do see one assume it’s for sale and ask. It could be years before you see another.

Purchase price:

Before we talk numbers, remember this is a car that has five doors, the most bizarrely lovable styling this side of a Fiat Multipla and enough boot space to put up a family of grizzly bears for the winter. It is a man’s car, a throw back, a true-blue with the ride of a floating duvet and the sturdy electrics of a Texas prison. It will make you stand out more than anything else with a plastic steering wheel cover ever could.

Just £1,300 should buy you an Ambassador to keep, with £500 of that being down to its sheer rarity. A dying model will come in at under the half-grand mark and could still be worth considering if you have the patience. Beggars can’t be choosers after all.

Take care out there. You will have to pull nothing short of a Homer to find one with full service history, but a seller with a toolbox bigger than a coffin and overalls in his garage at least tells you something has been done.

Like we managed to find an Ambassador on eBay! We didn’t. You will have to do your own legwork on this one. We are off for another look through the family album with a glass of Black Tower. Brother had a red Ambassador, a 2.2 litre don’t you know? He couldn’t park it anywhere.

[story by Chris Laverty]