museum review of
Croatia national railway museum - Zagreb (Hrvatski željeznički muzej)
I visited the Croatian National Railway Museum—or at least, I tried to. Instead of stepping inside, I found myself standing outside, staring at a locked gate. The museum has been closed for "renovations" since 2018, with no known date for reopening. It’s hard not to feel a pang of disappointment knowing that what lies behind those gates remains out of reach.
Just beyond the fence, I could see Tito’s train, a piece of history that I would have loved to explore. There are other treasures in there too, now gathering dust and slowly decaying as time passes. The grass has grown knee-high, paint is peeling off the walls, and the whole place feels abandoned, forgotten by time.
If you’ve traveled all the way here just to visit the museum, only to be met with a locked door, it’s hard not to feel a deep sense of frustration and sadness. The potential of what could have been a fascinating journey through Croatia’s railway history is lost, hidden away behind a rusty gate with no clear future.
To soothe the disappointment, I can only suggest heading to Peron 16, a cozy bistro set in an old train wagon nearby. It’s a small comfort, offering a place to drown your sorrows after the letdown of the closed museum. But it’s a poor substitute for what could have been an enriching experience.
In the end, the Croatian National Railway Museum remains a sad reminder of what happens when history is left waiting behind closed doors.
Just beyond the fence, I could see Tito’s train, a piece of history that I would have loved to explore. There are other treasures in there too, now gathering dust and slowly decaying as time passes. The grass has grown knee-high, paint is peeling off the walls, and the whole place feels abandoned, forgotten by time.
If you’ve traveled all the way here just to visit the museum, only to be met with a locked door, it’s hard not to feel a deep sense of frustration and sadness. The potential of what could have been a fascinating journey through Croatia’s railway history is lost, hidden away behind a rusty gate with no clear future.
To soothe the disappointment, I can only suggest heading to Peron 16, a cozy bistro set in an old train wagon nearby. It’s a small comfort, offering a place to drown your sorrows after the letdown of the closed museum. But it’s a poor substitute for what could have been an enriching experience.
In the end, the Croatian National Railway Museum remains a sad reminder of what happens when history is left waiting behind closed doors.