Opened in 1975 to coincide with the 7th Workers’ Party Congress, a special entrance was constructed for the event’s guest of honour, Leonid Brezhnev – known for his fear of flying, it was imperative that the station was completed in time so that the Soviet leader could attend. This put the pressure firmly on the engineering team, yet despite the odds being firmly against them, they were able to deliver the project in under 1,000 days.

Funds and materials had not been an issue. Seen as a showcase of Poland’s construction industry, the authorities ensured that the architects had nothing but the best. As such, automatic doors were imported from Switzerland and suspended ceilings from Holland. It did not stop there. Marble was sourced from Kazakhstan, clocks were brought over from Italy, whilst escalators and elevators were supplied by the American firm Otis. The design went so far as to include the country’s first vending machine.

If money was not an issue, the workforce was. Reportedly, on the first day of construction just 23 workers checked-in for their shift. As the deadline loomed closer, soldiers were drafted in to help the general donkey work such as scrubbing the floors. Yet against all the doomsday predictions, the station was ready on time and was officially opened at 10 a.m. on December 5th by an assorted group of political leaders. Addressing the gathered crowd, the foreman Włodzimierz Zdziarski boasted that his team had built “the most beautiful landmark of our socialist fatherland.”

Two days later, Brezhnev himself arrived with his personal train drawing into Platform 3 at 7 a.m. There he was greeted by First Secretary Edward Gierek and ushered to a VIP room which today holds a waiting room for first class passengers. Touted as an architectural miracle, the next few years even saw fashion shows, cabarets and concerts take place on the platforms.

These, though, could not mask the slipshod workmanship and soon even the station’s fountain had run dry. What had originally been billed as a tourist attraction (yes, there really weren’t that many thrill to be had in Communist Poland), became something of a joke. Famously, one scene in a comedy saw a young boy refusing to toss a coin into the fountain. After being told that doing so would mean he would one day return, the child snapped back: “but I don’t want to!”

Worse times were to come with the fall of the Iron Curtain and the station’s Stygian passageways became flooded with vagrants, foul odours and sleazy stalls selling bootleg goods. Realising just how bad things had got, when Poland was awarded host country status for the Euro 2012 football championships, authorities had little option but to embark on a massive renovation to modernize the station.