Eastern European Explorer

When I bragged to my beach-obsessed family that I was planning a late summer holiday in Ukraine, I encountered reactions that ranged from skeptical stares to disbelief. “That’s where they used to send naughty capitalists!” they exclaimed. Tack on the fact that my husband and I would be travelling by train from Warsaw, and they were pretty much gobsmacked.

Ukraine may be the geographical centre of Europe. But as it shares borders with Russia and Belarus, in most Western minds, the Ukraine remains about as Eastern European as beetroot borscht. More fool them. The largest country in Europe, the Ukraine, borders the sun-blessed Black Sea, where the ancient city of Odessa boasts beach resorts far from any tourist trail. It’s also home to the now hip metropolis of Kiev, connected to Warsaw by one of the loveliest – and least travelled – rail lines in all of Europe. We could hardly wait. After a two-hour plane hop to Warsaw, we checked into Railbookers' glamorous local accommodation partner, the century-year-old Polonia Palace Hotel (pictured on the right). Then we hit the city streets, keen to explore what is now considered the capital of Nowa Polska, or contemporary Polish gastronomy. Warsaw doesn’t disappoint. We made a beeline for Atelier Amaro, where Chef Wojciech Modest Amaro snagged Poland's first-ever Michelin star earlier this year. The following afternoon, we packed our bags and made our way to Warsaw’s monolithic train station. It was constructed – entirely in concrete it seems – for Soviet Premier Leonid Brezhnev's visit to the city in 1975. With much excitement and not a little trepidation, we jumped aboard the 16.05 Kiev Express, eastward bound. Our private cabin was the most splendid we’ve travelled in from Portugal to Turkey. It had single-bed-sized bunks and a washbasin and loo. Although there was a buffet car with snacks on board, we picked up a veritable Polish feast before we set off from Warsaw: pierogi potato pancakes, oscypek smoked cheese, herring with onions and plenty of pickles. Under the washbasin was a permanent bottle-opener, perfect for popping the tops off of our bottles of Żywiec beer. We picnicked while watching dusk drop over the lush countryside and breakfasted as the sun rose. Around midnight, we woke to a customs control at the border – passports checked while we laid in bed – then listened to the unique sound of the train's bogies being changed from European gauge to Russian super-size. All along our 17-hour journey, our cabin’s large window offered snapshots of rural Polish, then Ukrainian, daily life: Housewives plucking giant melons from the garden; village boys playing in an autumnal birch forest; the odd communist-built ZAZ car parked up under a canopy of ripening vines. We rattled into Kiev around noon. That’s a couple of hours behind schedule, but no matter when you’re reviewing Europe from the comfort of your bed. As we exited into the station, we perused trains destined for Moscow and Minsk. But it was the sleeper train bound for Odessa later that evening that had our name on it. First class to the Black Sea on Ukrainian Railways first meant faux wood panelling, decorative plastic plants and double cabins with twin beds. We slept all the way south.