The Highs and Lows of My $2,500 Flight in Alaska’s New Long-Haul Business Class

Alaska is a new West Coast entrant in the trans-Atlantic market, and the flight turned out to be a fantastic value with one major caveat: no Wi-Fi.

SOMEWHERE OVER LEEDS, ENGLAND—Anthony Bourdain was eating a cobra heart in the movie on my suite screen when flight attendants rolled up with an ice-cream-sundae cart.

It was the fourth course served in business class on an Alaska Airlines flight from Rome to Seattle and we were only two hours into a 10-hour flight.

Alaska is a new West Coast entrant in the competitive trans-Atlantic market. The Seattle-based airline began nonstop flights to Rome and London earlier this year, flying Boeing 787 Dreamliners outfitted with the posh business-class suites big-spending business and vacation travelers demand today. (It acquired the planes in its 2024 merger with Hawaiian Airlines.)

It was a clear message to Delta Air Lines, which has been developing a foothold for years, that it is going to fight for lucrative international travelers in the bustling corporate hub it calls home. (Delta quickly added Seattle to Rome to its lineup after Alaska announced its plans.)

To size up the newcomer, I booked a nearly $2,500 one-way ticket from Rome. Consider it the fourth installment of this back-of-the-plane traveler’s business-class chronicles. We started with American Airlines a year ago, followed by all business-class La Compagnie and then United earlier this year.

Flight attendants make custom ice cream sundaes for passengers after dinner.

The Alaska flight was the cheapest splurge of the bunch, excluding the $939 last-minute upgrade to United Polaris from London to San Francisco. I booked the ticket about 10 days before departure and a regular economy ticket was $1,700 one way. (Business-class tickets on surrounding dates topped $5,000 one way.)

The flight turned out to be a fantastic value with one major caveat: no Wi-Fi.

Not inoperable Wi-Fi like on my United flight, just no option at all. But at least we were warned in advance. Alaska says Starlink is coming to its wide-body planes later this year, a refrain frequent fliers hear far too often from airline executives these days.

Check-in at Rome’s Fiumicino airport was underwhelming, but the ticket did come with a security fast pass and lounge entry. The Alaska agent directed me to a lounge closer to my gate.

Alaska serves Rome and London from Seattle with a Boeing 787 Dreamliner.

I had plenty of time to kill, though, so went to the less crowded (according to reviews, anyway) British Airways lounge. There was no line, and it was perfectly adequate even without bathrooms inside. The other lounge, Prima Vista, had a long wait when I walked past.

The gate area was cramped and chaotic, in part because the previous day’s flight to Seattle was canceled. Suite passengers board first, though I was far from first on board due to random security screening.

All was well when I approached 3J, one of 34 suites. All the suites have privacy doors and aisle access in the airline’s 1 x 2 x 1 configuration.

My seat angled toward the window. That was great for privacy, but made for a tight squeeze and awkward angles when getting up to go to the bathroom.

I took a cue from the business-class veterans across the aisle and started by putting my mattress pad on the seat. They said it gets sticky without one.

The suite came with your standard front-of-the-plane amenities: a bigger screen with remote, bedding, skin-care lotion, socks, eye mask, a reusable water bottle, ear plugs and noise-canceling headphones. There was a wonky wireless phone charger, but a USB-C outlet would have been more useful. The tray table was extra large.

Alaska’s business class amenity kit includes skin care, socks, ear plugs and more.

The service stood out from the start. (The flight attendants are Hawaiian Airlines flight attendants.)

It’s everything you see in those influencer videos encouraging you to sign up for a pricey credit card so you can redeem points for the lie-flat life—and more.

As I was settling into my suite, a flight attendant dropped by with a tray of beverages, including sparkling wine. He confirmed my dinner order, and when I couldn’t decide which white wine, said, “If you ever want to switch it up with a white wine tasting, you can do that as well.‘’

All this before takeoff.

The four-course dinner started with Alaska’s signature charcuterie plate and ended with the sundae cart. I enjoyed it all but the main course. And that’s probably on me.

Perhaps swayed by all the social-media love for Delta’s Shake Shack collab in first class, I ordered the burger. It was overcooked and tasteless. My notes say I’ve had better from a concession stand. My neighbors raved about the Veal Osso Buco.

The burger was a major weak link in the four-course dinner.

That was just the start on the food front. Smoked provolone pizza was delivered halfway through the flight followed by a sandwich or salad and tiramisu 90 minutes before landing. Snack baskets were also stationed in the cabin.

I know plenty of you forking over thousands for business class do it solely for the solitude, space and sleep.

And I can confirm that sitting in the Alaska pod for 10 hours was dreamy. More than a few times I felt like I was the only person on the plane, despite more than 250 fellow passengers.

The lie-flat bed was comfortable, but I only slept a couple hours max since it wasn’t a red eye. The footwell was noticeably narrow even for me at 5’6” so someone taller would feel scrunched when fully stretched out. The pillow could have been bigger. And I wish the cabin had been darker in the latter half of the flight.

Yes, that sounds like whining. But when you’re shelling out thousands for a posh pod, those things matter. As does Wi-Fi, big time.

On arrival in Seattle, the deplaning soundtrack was Taylor Swift’s “Lover.”

There’s little not to love about the abundant riches of business class—at the right price. And Alaska’s price was right.

Write to Dawn Gilbertson at dawn.gilbertson@wsj.com