From Budapest to Zagreb: A Slow Train and a Surprising Transformation

We left Budapest on a slow train to Zagreb, a five-hour journey that let us soak in the scenery—rolling hills, quaint villages, and the occasional glimpse of the Drava River. We’d been to Zagreb decades ago and found it gray and depressing, but recent buzz about its revival convinced us to give it another shot. As the train pulled into Zagreb’s Glavni Kolodvor station, we were ready to be surprised—and the city didn’t disappoint.

Stepping out, we were struck by how clean and vibrant Zagreb felt. The streets sparkled, and the energy was palpable. Our Airbnb, right in the heart of the city, was a perfect base—spacious, quiet despite its central location, with a sunny balcony overlooking tiled roofs. We dropped our bags and headed to Dolac Market, the farmer’s market just steps away. It was a feast for the senses: stalls piled high with ruby-red tomatoes, fresh cheeses, and golden honey, all at prices that felt like steals. The vendors were warm, offering us slivers of smoked sausage and chatting despite our shaky Croatian. We left with a bag of plums and a renewed appreciation for Zagreb’s glow-up.

The main square, Ban Jelačić Square, was a stunner—tree-lined, pristine, and buzzing with life. Locals sipped coffee at outdoor cafés, and trams clattered by in a cheerful rhythm. At noon, we jumped at the sudden boom from the Lotrščak Tower, a daily cannon firing we hadn’t expected. It added to the city’s artsy charm, which we felt everywhere—from quirky street art to the bohemian vibe of Tkalčićeva Street, lined with colorful bars and galleries.

Dinner was at La Štruk, the famous spot for štrukli, a traditional Croatian dish of dough stuffed with cheese. It was packed, the air thick with chatter and the clatter of plates. Our štrukli was good—creamy and comforting—but honestly, just okay; the hype outshone the experience. Still, the lively atmosphere made it worth the stop.

Our last day brought a long wait before our flight to Greece, so we settled into a café near the station, splitting a pizza margherita. As we ate, a woman at the next table overheard our English and struck up a conversation. At first, it was friendly—until her story took a wild turn. She claimed researchers were following her, upset about her work. She described a woman scaling her building to bug her apartment, even hinting they might have poisoned her cat. Her intensity grew, and we started feeling spooked, exchanging uneasy glances. We politely wrapped up, paid, and made a beeline for the airport, rattled but relieved to be on our way.

Zagreb had surprised us with its charm, markets, and artsy spirit, far from the dreary city we remembered. But that café encounter? A story we won’t forget as we head to Greece for the next adventure.

Ever had a strange travel encounter? Share in the comments—I’d love to hear!