Review: British Airways London to Austin

My journey to Austin began much in the same way as the running joke in noughties blue comedy Road Trip: a phonetic confusion between Austin and Boston.

“Where are you flying today, madam?”

“Austin.”

“Great, I’ll get you checked onto the flight to Boston.”

“No, I’m going to Austin.”

“Yeah – Boston… Massachusetts?”

“No… Austin, Texas.”

The final interjection (“it’s that new route!”) came from the gentleman on the next check-in desk. My suitcase was safely checked onto the correct flight – to Austin Bergstrom International – and I was away (via a quick champagne and croissant lay-by at the Concorde Lounge).

Austin, enfant terrible of Texas, has done the rounds in the press, being hailed as the new “must-visit” US in most travel round-ups this year and last.

It’s a city full of progressive attitudes, food trucks, dive bars, and cool kids eating brisket and drinking craft beers and Topo Chico, a sparkling water sourced from Monterey. It’s currently the fastest growing city in the US: it’s got the same gritty soul as Nashville and New Orleans, and it’s homing in on San Fran’s techie crown. Austin’s ever-growing skyline, is already home to the Capital Factory, a 16^th floor start-up “incubator” as well as the biggest US Facebook operation outside of Palo Alto, and a new Google office. It’s only an hour from San Antonio, and two from Houston, the nearest business hubs. Then there’s SXSW, which takes its moniker as “live music capital of the world” and wraps it up into a week-long music and industry festival.

All this makes British Airways’s latest long-haul route their shiniest, most in-the-know service, and it was no surprise to me to see, as I boarded the 787 Dreamliner, that the plane was full to the brim.

This was the first time I’d flown on the Dreamliner, and I was intrigued. The cabin is pressurised at 6,000ft, meaning the body absorbs more oxygen and consequently experiences less in the way of headaches, jetlag and motion sickness (something I particularly struggle with). It seemed to work: I didn’t suffer from any of the usual side effects of flying on this journey. I also disembarked without the usual sore throat or chapped lips. (The latter could have something to do with the amount of Elemis lip balm I smothered on from the new wash bag.)

Lighting – “mood lighting” to be precise – is as important as the in-flight entertainment, which included a fine mix of Oscar season bigwigs and the usual guilty pleasures. Inside Llewyn Davies was my choice outbound (I liked the nod to live music), and The Hunger Games on the way back. I live by the motto of always going for films you’d never pay to see at the cinema on at least one leg of your journey.

I had seat envy as we flew over the cragged landscapes of Newfoundland and was unable to get a proper view; I couldn’t lean over my napping neighbour without looking creepy

Throughout the flight, LED lighting simulates changing times of day, and alters when the plane crosses time zones – something I didn’t notice until I was told – which allegedly also helps with jetlag. It’s also quite flattering (even in the toilets). Maybe it’s a response to the rise of the #flightselfie. Reclining in my 6ft seat, I felt almost as glamorous as the cowboy-booted Jerry Hall in British Airways’ launch adverts.

The Club World seats are laid out in the usual 2-3-2 configuration. Outbound I was in a side seat on the aisle, inbound on a side seat by the window. The window seat definitely wins out, not least because you get to play with the electronic dimmers: instead of shutters there are five translucent settings, from normal window to midnight blue. On the way out, aisle-side, I had seat envy as we flew over the cragged landscapes of Newfoundland and was unable to get a proper view; I couldn’t lean over my napping neighbour without looking creepy.

The only issue with the window seat is the usual issue of having to step across someone else’s seat – particularly difficult on a night flight when legs are extended. To avoid this, choose seats in the corners of the cabin: seats 3A and 3K, 7A and 7K. I was so concealed in my window-side pod that the crew forgot to clear away my tray after the dinner service, something that was in itself more memorable than the actual dinner.

The food was… fine. On the outbound journey I had a mozzarella and tomato salad followed by a delicious creamy veggie risotto (I stay away from meat when flying, a habit since childhood). On the way back, the curried crab with chunky bread looked a lot better than the other option – a wilted, depressed-looking crostini. My return-journey main was equally sad: it claimed to be rigatoni with wild mushroom ragout and ricotta, but the pasta was flat and the mushroom non-existent.

It’s a good job there’s that excellent cheese course, and the buttery Chablis, my go-to in-flight white. But what I craved most of all on that return journey from Texas’ crazy capital was the sound of the cap being taken off a bottle of chilled, fizzy Topo Chico. C

British Airways flies daily from London to Austin
Britishairways.com