A Journey Back in Time: Poland’s "Nieśpieszny" Retro Train Offers a Glimpse into Rail Heritage

The air at Warszawa Główna (Warsaw Main Station) was thick with anticipation, a vibrant mix of eager travellers and dedicated trainspotters, their lenses glinting in the morning sun. On platform 2, the polished olive-green carriages of the 11:07 service to Poznań gleamed, a vision from a bygone era. A ripple of excitement ran through the crowd as a man, distinguished by his crisp bow tie and vintage braces, deftly zipped past me, claiming the first step onto the train. This was no ordinary commuter run; it was an event, a meticulous journey back in time, promising an experience steeped in nostalgia and Polish railway heritage.

The year 2026 has been officially designated the "Year of Polish Railways" by the Polish parliament, a testament to the nation’s profound connection to its rail network. This declaration coincides with a double jubilee, underscoring the rich history and dynamic future of Poland’s rail system. The celebrations mark the 25th anniversary of PKP Intercity, the country’s prominent long-distance operator, and the centenary of the Polish State Railways (PKP), established in the aftermath of Poland regaining independence in 1918. To honour these significant milestones, PKP Intercity has launched an innovative series of retro rail journeys called "Nieśpieszny," which translates to "Unhurried" – a name that perfectly encapsulates the ethos of these unique excursions.

The "Nieśpieszny" initiative is a meticulously crafted homage to Poland’s railway golden age. Every weekend throughout the spring and summer, with departures confirmed until the end of August and more likely to be added due to popular demand, a fully refurbished train from the 1980s embarks on a journey from a different region of Poland. These trains, meticulously restored to their period-authentic livery and interior, traverse the diverse Polish landscape, from the majestic mountainous south to the picturesque Baltic coast in the north. The concept immediately captivated me when my friend Mariusz, aware of my annual railway pilgrimages to his country, brought it to my attention. I wasted no time, booking my ticket to Poznań the very day sales opened, eager to immerse myself in this living piece of history.

Stepping aboard, the sensation was immediate and profound. I settled into a marmalade-coloured six-seater compartment, its armchair-like seats inviting and comfortable. Unlike the utilitarian, open-plan carriages of modern high-speed trains, these compartments fostered an intimate, sociable atmosphere. There was a palpable sense that no one was rushing; no one was merely commuting. This "unhurried" journey was designed to be savoured, taking approximately five hours to cover a distance that a faster service would conquer in just over two. The deliberate slowness was part of the charm, allowing passengers to unwind, converse, and truly observe the passing world. It was a conscious embrace of the "slow travel" movement, which encourages deeper engagement with the journey itself, rather than solely focusing on the destination.

Feeling an early pang of hunger, I stowed my bag and followed the irresistible aroma of fried sausages wafting through the corridor, leading me directly to the bustling dining car. The WARS catering company, a venerable institution, has been serving passengers on Polish trains since 1948, making it an integral part of the country’s rail experience through various political and economic shifts. For these retro journeys, WARS has gone to great lengths to provide a truly authentic experience, with menus and plates that were pleasingly vintage, echoing the aesthetics of the communist era. After placing my order, I squeezed onto a stool beside a fellow passenger, Anita, and her son. We soon discovered her son was the renowned concert pianist Jan Lisiecki, visiting from Calgary but with deep family roots in Gdańsk. "In the 1980s, trains were packed," Anita recounted with a nostalgic chuckle. "You’d even have people standing in the toilet. This is nothing." Her words painted a vivid picture of the sheer demand for rail travel during a time when private car ownership was less common and public transport was a lifeline for many Poles.

Tucking into my meal of perfectly fried eggs, potatoes speckled with fresh dill, and a cool, tangy cup of kefir, I reflected on the often-misconceived notion of communist-era food. While some might dismiss it, this meal was freshly cooked, hearty, and utterly delicious. It defied any preconceptions of blandness, showcasing the enduring quality of simple, honest ingredients. At our shared table, I inquired about another man’s soup. "This is flaki," he explained, taking a spoonful, "made with tripe." Flaki, a traditional Polish beef or pork tripe stew, is a beloved, robust dish, often seasoned with marjoram and vegetables, and its presence on the menu further underscored the authentic culinary journey offered by "Nieśpieszny."

The landscape we trundled through – a mosaic of modern wind turbines, dense Scots pine forests, and neat cabbage fields – was largely unremarkable in its grandeur. Yet, it was precisely this everyday Polish vista that grounded the experience. The true allure, however, was the train itself, its handsome interior, and the sheer novelty of the journey. Even the windows, unlike their sealed modern counterparts, opened fully, allowing passengers to lean out, feel the wind, and capture photographs, a simple pleasure now largely lost in contemporary rail travel. This feature alone brought a childlike joy to many, connecting them physically to the journey and the landscape in a way modern trains rarely allow.

Over the years, exploring Poland by train has consistently offered me countless enjoyable experiences. I have traversed the country from the industrial, yet rapidly transforming, city of Katowice in the south to the bustling Baltic port city of Gdynia in the far north. Each journey has unveiled new facets of Poland’s diverse geography and rich cultural tapestry. Despite these extensive travels, there remains so much more I yearn to discover: Lublin in the east, with its fascinating underground brewery and historic charm, and Zakopane, nestled at the foot of the Tatra Mountains, offering unparalleled access to spectacular hiking trails. I am confident that Poland’s extensive and reliable rail network will continue to be my preferred mode of transport for these future adventures. As my phone battery eventually died – a fitting detail, given the theme, as modern charging sockets were conspicuously absent – I found myself reflecting on a myriad of past highlights, appreciating the forced digital detox and the focus on the present moment.

Sometimes, the pleasure of Polish rail travel lies not just in the journey, but in the railway stations themselves, which are often architectural marvels. Wrocław Główny, for instance, is a magnificent Neogothic structure completed in 1857. With its exquisite stained glass, iconic neon signs from the 1950s that harken back to the socialist realist era, and beautifully preserved wood-panelled ticket counters, it is an attraction in its own right, a testament to the grandeur of 19th-century railway architecture and mid-20th century design. The station recently underwent extensive renovation, meticulously preserving its historical elements while integrating modern conveniences, making it a vibrant hub for both travellers and city residents.

Joy also stems from the serendipitous discoveries made by stopping somewhere purely because it aligns perfectly with certain routes and timetables. This was precisely the case when I visited Toruń, a captivating city in north-central Poland. After disembarking the train, a leisurely walk across a bridge spanning the mighty Vistula River gradually revealed a gloriously panoramic view of the medieval old town, a UNESCO World Heritage site renowned for its Gothic architecture and as the birthplace of Nicolaus Copernicus. Shortly after, I stumbled upon a small museum dedicated to the city’s globetrotting son, Tony Halik, a celebrated adventurer, journalist, and filmmaker. Old photographs chronicled his incredible journey, driving his Jeep from Argentina to Alaska between 1957 and 1961, a feat of endurance and exploration that captivated audiences and highlighted the adventurous spirit inherent in Polish culture.

The following day on that previous trip, after taking a regional train from Toruń further north to Gdańsk Główny – another exceptionally photogenic station with its imposing clock tower and distinctive copper-clad turrets – I switched trains for a mere 20-minute hop to Sopot. This charming resort city on the Baltic Sea is famed for its pier, elegant architecture, and vibrant atmosphere. A delightful walk past sea buckthorn bushes led me to Bar Przystań, a local institution renowned for its exquisite fisherman’s soup, a hearty concoction featuring fresh halibut, salmon, and aromatic herbs. It was there, too, that I indulged in my first jagodzianka, Poland’s beloved blueberry-filled bun – a sweet, yeasty taste of summer, utterly delicious and deeply comforting. From Sopot, I then boarded a train for the long journey south to Katowice, a testament to the interconnectedness of Poland’s rail network.

Back on the current "Nieśpieszny" retro train, with just 45 minutes remaining before our arrival in Poznań, I made one final pilgrimage to the lively dining car. The queue was as long as ever, a testament to the enduring appeal of WARS’s offerings, but the staff remained unfailingly friendly and efficient. My apple pie was generously fruity, a perfect blend of sweet and tart. As I winced slightly at the first sip of the harsh, grainy coffee, my neighbour offered an understanding smile. "That’s the old, traditional stuff," he explained. "Still the only coffee my grandma drinks." It was yet another poignant nod to the past, and thus, entirely forgivable, adding to the authentic retro experience. This particular type of coffee, often made with chicory or roasted grain blends, was common during times of scarcity or as a popular, more affordable alternative to pure coffee beans, and for many, its distinctive taste evokes strong memories of earlier decades.

While I was not keen for the journey to end, I was eagerly anticipating my return to Poznań. A train had first delivered me to the city a couple of years prior, and I had instantly fallen for its dynamic buzz and infectious energy. I had explored its magnificent Palm House, one of Europe’s biggest greenhouses, a verdant oasis teeming with exotic flora, and savoured the atmospheric delights of the milk bar Pod Arkadami, a traditional Polish cafeteria offering inexpensive, home-style meals, a cultural remnant of the communist era that has seen a modern resurgence. However, on that previous visit, I had regrettably run out of time for the Croissant Museum. A true trademark of the city, Poznań’s St Martin’s croissants, officially known as rogale świętomarcińskie, are distinctive pastries characterized by their sweet white poppy seed filling and elegant icing. They hold a Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) status, making them a unique culinary heritage of Poznań, traditionally baked on November 11th for St Martin’s Day. The museum not only details their history but also offers interactive baking classes, promising a truly immersive cultural experience.

The deliberately unhurried pace of our retro train journey contrasts sharply with the rapid development and modernization of rail services across Poland today. To meet growing demand and enhance passenger experience, PKP Intercity is not only revamping disused carriages but also sourcing new, state-of-the-art rolling stock from abroad. This commitment to improvement was recognized in February when Poland proudly won the prestigious "2026 Rail Champion" award in Brussels. This award, bestowed for its significant contribution to the development of rail transport in Europe, acknowledges Poland’s substantial investments in infrastructure, fleet modernization, and the promotion of sustainable rail travel. With such a promising future for Polish railways, surely there is nothing wrong with indulging in some good-natured nostalgia, bitter coffee and all, celebrating the rich past that has paved the way for such a vibrant future.

Nieśpieszny journeys cost from £20, offering exceptional value for a unique cultural and historical experience. Koleo, a user-friendly mobile app and website, is an invaluable tool for navigating Poland’s extensive railway system, providing real-time information, ticket booking across multiple operators, and route planning, making contemporary rail travel across Poland incredibly convenient.