Qatar Airways review: What the ‘world’s best airline’ is like in 2022

There was a violent whiff of stale urine at takeoff. But on the return flight, the woman in the seat next to him did something truly disgusting.

The check-in queue has burst the cattle barriers and snakes through the airport in an unruly arc of 40 to 50 passengers.

I’m last in line despite arriving 2.5 hours before my flight. Utter chaos. There are lengthy queues, too, at business and customer service. At this point it’s certainly not feeling like Qatar Airways is “the world’s best airline”.

Qatar won the title this year at the annual Airline Ratings awards, which rank more than 200 carriers worldwide on safety and product. Qatar got a perfect 7/7 score for both safety and on-board amenities, which leaves me wondering if any of the responsible editors ever stood for an hour in an economy-class check-in line. I’m guessing not.

I take airline ratings – and hotel ratings, restaurant ratings etc – with a grain of salt. Having voted in airline surveys before (for the benchmark skytraxratings.com) and reviewed countless hotels and restaurants, the one thing I know with certainty is that every opinion is, by its nature, subjective.

Coupled with a flimsy methodology – often along the lines of, “This is what we think, so it’s true” – most travel awards are meaningless.

A bonus empty seat is overshadowed by an inconsiderate passenger’s antics.

Still, mildly intrigued by the latest airline rankings, I booked my Europe flights with Qatar Airways to see what best-in-class travel looks like this side of the pandemic. Also because I flew Emirates earlier this year and it was underwhelming.

And uncomfortable – did they shrink the cabins during lockdown? The seats don’t seem to fit a grown man any more. Flying with Emirates didn’t feel special liked it used to.

The verdict on Qatar? It’s not great, but it’s not all bad either.

When I do finally reach the check-in desk the woman is super-nice despite her printer being on the fritz.

Afterwards, I sail through security and immigration (unheard of) to be disgorged into duty-free with 90 minutes to spare.

Flight QR905 pushes back from the gate 15 minutes late, the delay quite possibly due to the epic amounts of cabin baggage people travel with these days. Fitting it all in the overhead lockers is like a round of Tetris Extreme, which the crew handle with serene determination. Saints, the lot of them.

There’s a violent whiff of stale urine at takeoff, but once the aircon kicks in, it thankfully vanishes. At least I’m near the toilets.

At this point I’m reminded of airline CEO Akbar Al Baker’s words: “Qatar Airways is fully committed to providing an unrivalled customer experience.”

Meal-wise, dinner is a standard choice of chicken or beef, with pesto pasta salad to start and an unidentified (and untouched) orange dessert to end. The wine glasses are plastic and pathetically small. Two large sips’ worth. Breakfast is congealed egg, fried potato chunks, mystery sausage (definitely not pork), baked beans and creamed spinach.

This traveller rates Qatar’s economy seating as ‘ridiculously small’ – but better than Emirates.

The meals aren’t inedible, they’re just so … canteen quality. What’s the use of celebrity-chef collaborations if they can’t make food in economy class taste better than boarding school?

With a seat pitch of 32-33 inches and a semi-decent recline, Qatar still offers a ridiculously tiny space to cram in for 14 hours. But at least I have somewhere to put my legs and my bum’s cushioned. Unlike Emirates.

In truth, the flights are okay. I arrive in Vienna feeling passably refreshed. Any in-flight niggles are soon forgotten.

The world’s-best experience was slightly better on the way home.

On QR116 ex-Rome I have a spare seat beside me – a present, I think, from the check-in lady who noted it had been my birthday the day before. Even better is having a spare middle seat on the long, homeward Melbourne leg.

My companion in the C seat is a Persian lady who speaks little English so we communicate in pidgin and sign.

When it becomes obvious we have a spare seat she mimes how she’s going to sleep on it, to which I smile indulgently.

This is Qatar from the air.

Passenger’s gross act

She tries first with her head resting near my armrest and her hairs tickling my arm. Neither of us likes that.

So after dinner she tries a different tactic, keeping her head on her seat and stretching her feet across the yawning gulf of 26B to rest on my tray table. Honestly, the most sweetly inconsiderate person I’ve ever met.

At one point she offers me her part-eaten vegetarian meal because she doesn’t like it. And she’s constantly upsetting the woman in front by tossing her handbag strap over the nearest seatback.

She’s a fascinating reminder that awards for service, safety or amenities mean nothing in practice. What determines a great in-flight experience is, mostly, your fellow travellers.

If they’re considerate and kind, and realise that the only way this 14-hour flight will be bearable is if we show respect to each other, then the flight will be fine. You don’t need an awards ceremony to tell you that.

The other side of the story

Irish-based budget carrier Ryanair, usually the whipping boy for all that’s cheap and nasty in modern air travel, has prevailed this Euro summer.

While legacy carriers like British Airways imploded, Ryanair became Britain’s most reliable airline. I flew the carrier twice and was impressed. Especially after staff helped me make a tight connection between Tirana and Rome to celebrate my birthday. No frills, great expectations.