I felt the gentle hum under my feet long before the whistle sounded. Warsaw Central glowed gold in the late-June sun, and the platform buzzed with that special alchemy of backpackers, grandparents, and wide-eyed children clutching inflatable flamingos. We were all there for the same promise: a single overnight line, the brand-new Adriatic Express, ready to teleport us from Poland’s heart to Croatia’s sapphire coast in one long, dreamy swoop.

The Route That Rewrote My Map

At precisely 14:02 the train nudged forward, sliding past the familiar flats of Mazovia toward Opoczno and the coal-black silhouettes of Katowice. By dusk, Vienna’s Art-Nouveau roofs shimmered outside my window—just a cameo, a fleeting hello before the carriages were serenely decoupled and re-linked for the Slovenian frontier. Somewhere between Postojna’s karst peaks and the restless moon above the Sava River, I surrendered to sleep in a powder-blue couchette, rocked by the same rails that stitched together five countries in nineteen poetic hours.

“There’s a peculiar magic in crossing borders without lifting a finger—waking to new languages, new aromas, the train doing all the heavy dreaming for you.”

Why This Train Matters — Beyond Convenience

Croatia greeted me at dawn with the scent of pine and brine, an Adriatic breeze sneaking through the carriage corridor. Yet the real revelation happened somewhere inside me: this was travel diluted of airport hassle, distilled to its essence—movement, scenery, stories shared over corridor coffee. Tickets start at just 200 złoty (about €50), democratizing the once-complicated trek from Central Europe to the seaside. For tens of thousands of Poles who flock south each summer (1.2 million visited Croatia last year alone), the Express isn’t merely a ride; it’s a doorway to spontaneous, low-carbon holidays.

The Rise of the 2025 “Railcation”

This summer’s conversations in European hostels feel different. Instead of trading flight codes, travelers compare couchette numbers. From France’s Alpine sleepers to Spain’s revived Talgo services, rail romance is peaking—and environmental consciousness is steering the locomotive. In Poland alone, rail bookings surged 18 % in spring 2025, while budget airlines saw a subtle dip. The Adriatic Express lands right in the eye of this cultural weather, offering a storytelling-rich antidote to sterile air travel, and tactile proof that Europe’s patchwork of tracks can compete with cheap jets when planners dare to connect the dots.

A Journey Measured in Moments

Among my compartment companions was Ania, an architecture student tracing Tito-era seaside towns for her thesis, and Matej, a Slovenian chef carrying home-smoked oscypek cheese as a gift for his Rijeka restaurant. We swapped life tales until Katowice blurred into night, clinking biodegradable cups of Polish cider. Those hours—face-to-face, Wi-Fi scarce, possibilities wide—felt like a masterclass in slow fellowship.

Travel is memory in motion; trains just give it more track to stretch its legs.

Arrival, and the Future That Rolled In With Us

At 09:07 the locomotive eased into Rijeka’s stone station. The Adriatic winked between palms, and a choir of gulls sang my welcome. I stepped onto the platform lighter than when I’d boarded—not just in kilometres flown past, but in planet-friendly karma accrued. If the pilot season succeeds (early numbers show over 90 % of seats booked on initial runs), PKP Intercity hints at extending the service or even adding winter ski sleepers to the Julian Alps. Imagine that: a continent once again stitched together by night, lulled by click-clack lullabies.

So here’s my challenge to every restless soul staring at an overbooked flight aggregator: answer the call of the rails while the steel is hot. Pack a novel, an appetite for platform pastries, and the willingness to be enchanted. Because somewhere between Warsaw’s modern skyline and Croatia’s salt-hazed mornings, a new narrative is being written—one where the journey is the headline, and the destination merely the epilogue.