This might be Europe’s most gruelling train ride, but here’s why I enjoyed it

June 1, 2026 — 5:00am

I’ve caught many memorable trains through Europe, from sleek high-speed services to nostalgic old sleeper trains. But for every yin there is a yang; for every delightful train there is a train that’s hard work. And such is the case with my latest trip, the daily service between the Romanian capital Bucharest and the Bulgarian capital Sofia.

The train departs from Bucharest’s Gara de Nord, which has a great name but is a terrible station: tatty, rusting and with a sort of flea market running down the centre of the concourse.

What awaits me at platform four is an amalgam of three different services: a well-maintained Turkish carriage going on to Istanbul, a Bulgarian carriage going to the Black Sea city of Varna, and – lucky me – another well-graffitied Bulgarian carriage heading to Sofia.

My first-class Eurail pass will do me little good on this train, beyond covering the fare, less a $5 seat reservation. There’s no first-class carriage, there’s no cafe or dining car, and there’s no air-conditioning. It goes without saying that the loo at the end of the carriage is dire.

As for seating, the second-class compartments are divided into eight seats. They’d be tight spaces if the carriage was full, but luckily I have just two travelling companions for the next 10 hours: Al, an American about my age, and Guust, a young Belgian on a break from his university studies.

At 10.11am our patchwork train pulls out, and so starts our day on the rails. The three of us chat, eat food we’ve brought with us, and look out of the compartment window. When that becomes dull we stand in the corridor and look out of the corridor windows at the scenery on the other side.

It’s a long day, but doesn’t turn out as dreary as I imagined. For a start, Al and I kill hours by talking about our travels. I particularly admire his philosophy of how to combine life and leisure. For most of the year he works as a bus driver for a school for kids with special needs, a job which requires specific skills and a great deal of empathy. Between annual contracts, and without any holiday pay, he heads off to see a new part of the world.

Another consolation is the scenery. Although it takes us three hours to cover the 100 or so kilometres to the border with Bulgaria, it’s worth the wait because we change countries by crossing a spectacularly broad stretch of the Danube River via a lengthy rail bridge.

As the day wears on, we trundle through rural Bulgaria, occasionally pausing to reconfigure the train (Bye, Varna carriage! So long, Istanbul carriage!), as we pass through beautiful hilly countryside. During one lengthy pause, I lean out the corridor window and take in the activity of a dusty country station while carriages are being shunted, feeling cheered by a shaft of sunlight that suddenly illuminates the far platforms.

Finally, a little later than scheduled, we pull into Sofia Central station as – with excellent timing – the sun starts to set. Guust and I wrangle Al’s absurdly large suitcase down from the overhead rack, as he has a bad back. We then each shake hands and summarily drift off.

It’s funny how even epically long rail trips end with minimal ceremony. Al, Guust and I have been a little family for 10 hours, working together to make this slow clapped-out train our new, if temporary, home. It’s been a long, hot, tiring day and I wouldn’t want to jump aboard that train again in a hurry, but to be honest, I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed the ride.

The writer travelled courtesy of Eurail and Small Luxury Hotels of the World.