Trainspotters crowded platform 2 as sunlight gleamed off the polished olive-green carriages of the 11:07 from Warszawa Główna to Poznań. As I got ready to board, a man in a bow tie and braces rushed past me, reaching the steps first. The excitement was clear. But then, this wasn’t just any train—it was an event. A trip back in time.
The Polish parliament had declared 2026 the Year of Polish Railways, and there’s a double celebration happening: the 25th anniversary of the long-distance operator PKP Intercity and the centenary of Polish state railways. To mark the occasion, a series of retro rail journeys called Nieśpieszny (“Unhurried”) has been launched.
Every weekend during spring and summer (at least until the end of August, with more trips likely), a fully restored train from the 1980s, painted to match the era, departs from a different region in Poland—from the mountainous south to the Baltic coast in the north. When my friend Mariusz told me about this, knowing I take an annual train trip to his country, I jumped at the chance. I booked my ticket to Poznań the day they went on sale.
On board, I settled into a marmalade-colored six-seater compartment with armchair-like seats. There was a friendly atmosphere; after all, no one was commuting or in a hurry. Our “unhurried” journey would take about five hours, compared to just over two on a faster service.
Ready for an early lunch, I stowed my bag and followed the smell of fried sausages to the dining car. The WARS catering company has been feeding passengers on Polish trains since 1948, and our menus and plates for this trip were nicely vintage. After ordering, I squeezed onto a stool next to a fellow passenger named Anita and her son—who I later realized was concert pianist Jan Lisiecki—visiting from Calgary, but with family roots in Gdańsk. “In the 1980s, trains were packed. People even stood in the toilet. This is nothing,” Anita said.
Getting to know Poland by train has given me countless enjoyable experiences over the years. Tucking into fried eggs, potatoes with dill, and a cool cup of kefir, I thought how easy it would be to dismiss communist-era food like what we were served, but it was freshly cooked and excellent. I asked another man at our shared table about his soup. “This is flaki, made with tripe,” he said, taking a spoonful.
The landscape we rolled through—wind turbines, Scots pine forests, and cabbage fields—was unremarkable. It was the train itself, with its handsome interior, that we had all signed up for. That, and the novelty. Even the windows opened fully, as they once did, letting us stick our heads out.
Getting to know Poland by train has given me countless enjoyable experiences over the years. I’ve crossed the country by rail, from the industrial but fast-changing city of Katowice in the south to the Baltic port city of Gdynia in the far north, but there’s still so much more I want to see: Lublin in the east for its underground brewery, and Zakopane for hiking in the Tatra Mountains. I know the trains will get me there. Now, with my phone battery completely dead—fittingly, there were no obvious sockets to be found—I recalled some highlights.
Sometimes in Poland, the pleasure is all about the railway station itself. For example, Wrocław Główny, neo-Gothic and completed in 1857, with its stained glass, neon signs from the 1950s, and wood-paneled ticket counters, is worth a visit on its own.
I bought my first jagodzianka, Poland’s famous blueberry-filled bun—the taste of summer and very delicious.
Joy also comes from stopping somewhere simply because it works with certain routes and timings.That was the case when I visited Toruń in north-central Poland. After getting off the train and crossing a bridge on foot over the Vistula River, a stunning panoramic view of the medieval old town started to unfold. Soon after, I wandered into a small museum dedicated to the city’s world-traveling son, Tony Halik, a famous adventurer and journalist. Old photos showed him driving his Jeep from Argentina to Alaska between 1957 and 1961.
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Sopot, a resort on the Baltic Sea, is just a 20-minute train ride from Gdańsk. Photograph: Patryk Kosmider/Getty Images
The next day on that earlier trip, after taking the train from Toruń north to Gdańsk Główny – another photogenic station with its clock tower and copper-covered turrets – I switched trains again for a quick 20-minute ride to Sopot, a small resort town on the Baltic Sea. Walking past sea buckthorn bushes, I reached Bar Przystań and tried its famous fisherman’s soup, made with halibut, salmon, and herbs. There, I also bought my first jagodzianka, Poland’s famous blueberry-filled bun – the taste of summer and absolutely delicious – before boarding the train to Katowice.
Back on the current retro train, with just 45 minutes left before we arrived in Poznań, I returned to the lively dining car. The line was just as long as before, but the staff were still friendly. The apple pie was rich with fruit. As I winced while sipping the harsh, grainy coffee, my neighbor said, “That’s the old, traditional stuff – still the only coffee my grandma drinks.” Another nod to the past, and so it was forgivable.
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I wasn’t ready for the journey to end, but I was really looking forward to returning to Poznań. A train had brought me there a couple of years ago, when I fell for its lively vibe and energy, its Palm House – one of Europe’s largest greenhouses – and the atmospheric milk bar Pod Arkadami. But I had run out of time for the Croissant Museum. A trademark of the city, Poznań’s St Martin’s croissants, also known as rogale świętomarcińskie, are iced and filled with white poppy seeds, and the museum offers baking classes.
Our slow train is a sharp contrast to the rapid growth of modern rail services in Poland. To meet demand, old carriages are being refurbished, and others are being brought in from abroad. Plus, in February, Poland won the 2026 Rail Champion award in Brussels for its contribution to rail transport development in Europe. With such a promising future, there’s surely nothing wrong with enjoying some good-natured nostalgia, bitter coffee and all.
Nieśpieszny journeys start from £20. Koleo, a mobile app and website, is helpful for navigating Poland’s railway system.
Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of frequently asked questions about the experience of tripe soup and bitter coffee on a nostalgic communistera train journey through Poland
General Setting the Scene
Q What is this dining car experience actually about
A Its a nostalgic journey on a restored Polish train from the communist era The focus is on the authentic gritty atmosphere and the specific food and drink served in the dining car
Q Why tripe soup and bitter coffee Are those the only options
A They are the signature items that set the scene Tripe soup was a common hearty workingclass meal and the coffee was typically a weak bitter and often burnttasting substitute Yes those are the main periodaccurate choices
Q Is this a real train you can ride
A Yes These are heritage or nostalgia trains often organized by railway museums or enthusiast groups They run on specific dates along scenic routes like the Bieszczady Mountains or from Warsaw to Kraków
Q Is the food good or is it just for the experience
A Its 100 for the authentic experience The tripe soup is generally considered wellmade but the coffee is deliberately bitter and awful The point is to taste what travel was actually like in the 1970s
The Food Drink
Q What exactly is tripe soup
A Its a traditional Polish soup made from beef tripe cooked for hours with vegetables and marjoram In this context its served in a simple metal bowl
Q Why is the coffee so bitter
A During the communist era real coffee was scarce and expensive The coffee served was usually a chicory or grainbased substitute Its intentionally bitter watery and has a burnt tastea true taste of the era
Q Can I get something else to drink