NEW YORK, NY.- Step 1: Board the train. Step 2: Climb into bed. Step 3: Wake up at your destination.

That might sound like a dream from the distant past for many travelers, but it’s a growing trend in Europe. Although many night trains were killed off by the rise of low-cost airlines in recent decades, they are on their way back, thanks in part to greater awareness of the environmental impact of flying, as well as a growing interest in slow travel.

This spring, a new Paris-Berlin connection caught my eye — a Nightjet operated by the Austrian railway ÖBB. That renewed overnight route made headlines when it started up in December after a 13-year absence, with the French transport minister at the time, Clément Beaune, among its first passengers.

“It was magnificent,” he said afterward. “We need projects that are positive, ecological and European.”

Like a Hotel on Rails

Most of the three trains per week in either direction were already filling up when I purchased my ticket roughly a month in advance. The cheapest overnight tickets were basic seats, which I found starting at around 35 euros (about $39). Couchettes, from 50 euros, offered smallish bunks in a shared compartment with four or six travelers. The highest-tier “sleeper” tickets included a larger bed, starting at 80 euros in a compartment shared with two other travelers. I splurged on a private “sleeper” compartment for one with its own bathroom and shower that started at 260 euros (partially and fully refundable tickets cost more).

Considering the price and the environmental angle, I found it strange that tickets had to be downloaded and printed. I also found the Nightjet’s booking system hard to navigate and lacking in information. In the weeks before my trip, I received text messages from ÖBB telling me that the train’s departure had been changed from 8:18 p.m. to 7:40, then back to 8:18, then back to 7:40.

Otherwise, things seemed to be on track, no pun intended, and on an early spring evening, I caught the Nightjet at Berlin Hauptbahnhof, the city’s main railway station. A modern Einkaufsbahnhof, or “shopping train station,” it included everything from bakeries to grocery stores, with plenty of restaurants, bars and lounges. I killed the half-hour before my departure over a beer, envisioning the luxury of the 14-hour journey ahead.

Renewed, but Not New

That hope was dashed once I boarded. Although the Paris-Berlin line was promoted as a renewed route, the train itself was old: My private compartment showed signs of years of wear and tear. Though booked for one person, it had three seats, each as thin and hard as an ironing board.

The compartment was small, and the tabletop nearly blocked the washroom door, necessitating a wild dance-step to get inside.

After a few minutes, a porter came to collect the ticket I’d printed. A couple of bottles of water were included and two meals were available, he explained. In a retro twist, payment for those meals would have to be in cash.

“Sorry, the company did not give us a terminal for cards,” he said.

A few minutes later, he arrived with a bland take on German-style spaetzle noodles. When I finished, he returned to remove the tray and the tabletop, folding the seats down and quickly setting up the bed hidden behind them.

I gave the washroom a whirl, thanking the dozens of vanlife videos that had prepared me for a shower head that doubled as the tap for the sink, which rotated out of the way when the shower was in use. A hidden curtain, once extended, kept most of the water inside. The shower was tall enough for my 6 feet 2 inches, although my shoulders and elbows took offense at the narrowness. Surprisingly, the flow was decent, with more than enough hot water.

With the window screen lowered, my compartment was quite dark, making the complimentary sleep mask unnecessary; other freebies included two chocolate wafers, a chocolate egg, slippers and earplugs.

Despite a surprisingly comfortable, just-long-enough bed, I had trouble sleeping and rose early to see that the train had stopped in Strasbourg, France. A short while later we started up, after which a new porter brought breakfast: coffee, kaiser rolls, cream cheese, butter, jam and a plastic-wrapped package of pâté that, without a knife, I struggled to open. Similarly, I couldn’t get anything out of the free Wi-Fi.

Ideal for Young Travelers

After breakfast, I walked the length of the train to see how other passengers were faring. In what Nightjet called the “seating carriage” and “seat car,” two women from Rennes, France, were returning from Poland on the train’s cheapest tickets.

“We had the seats, not the bed, and it was not very comfortable. There was not very much room,” one said. “It’s not made to spend the night.”

The seats did have a hidden feature: You could extend the leg rests of two facing seats and rig up a kind of bunk. For a young traveler, that kind of overnight journey might work. For a middle-aged passenger like me, it might involve years of physiotherapy.

In a sleeper compartment, 61-year-old Mario Cibulla said that he’d found the overnight journey pleasant, getting much better rest than I had. He and his wife, both Berliners, were taking the night train for the first time.

“I could sleep — maybe five hours, not eight hours, but it’s better than nothing,” he said. The internet connection hadn’t worked for him, either. And then there was the food. For dinner, he’d skipped the spaetzle and gone with the only other option, spaghetti Bolognese, which he gave a big thumbs down.

Still, he was enthusiastic. For a couple, he said, the cost seemed reasonable.

“It’s not too expensive, because just to travel from Berlin to Paris is 200 or 300 euros for two people,” he said. Going by night train was a bit more than taking a cheap flight, but it included one night’s lodging, saving on the cost of a hotel. And, he added, “it’s an ecological way to travel.”

The appeal was more obvious when I visited a couchette wagon. In one compartment, four young travelers appeared to have become fast friends. They’d even left the door to their four-berth compartment open, as if they wanted to invite visits.

A half-inch taller than me, 32-year-old Thibaut Ratsi said that he’d found his couchette berth tight. “I could fit, but my toes touched,” he said.

Theresa Kuttner, from Austria, was traveling with Matthieu Plein, from Luxembourg; both were 26. Guillaume Olivier, another solo-traveling Frenchman, was 24. The group had spent much of the trip in multilingual conversation, they said. For them, environmental responsibility and affordability were only part of the night train’s appeal. It was also a whole vibe.

“You can save money on a hotel, and you’re in a chill mood,” Plein said. “And you wake up in a city center, not outside of the city, like most airports.”

“It’s also a meeting place,” Kuttner offered. “The most amazing thing about the Nightjet is that when you wake up, you have all this scenery outside your window — it’s like in a movie.”

A Journey Completed

I returned to my own compartment shortly before we pulled into our end station, Paris Est. The journey had felt cinematic, I agreed. Although it wasn’t perfect, a night train had its own appeal, beyond what we could see through the windows. For some, it was a place for making new friends. For others, it was a chance to be alone — or for a couple to be alone together.

But for everyone on board, the night train was an experience unto itself: a romantic, once-outdated form of travel that was finding a new role today. I wasn’t entirely sure that my expensive ticket justified the price. But unlike most short-hop flights, it would give me plenty to talk about when friends asked how my trip had been.

Or at least that’s what I thought as I shouldered my bag and set out, bleary-eyed, into the bustle of Paris — a dreamy city, which, on that bright spring morning, felt more romantic than ever.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.