When Andrey talks about Belgrade there is no nostalgia in his voice — only the precision of a man who thought for a long time before speaking. We met at his cafe at ten in the morning. He had been there since eight.
He moved in March 2022 with one suitcase and a remote contract. A year and a half later: his own place, two Serbian cooks and his first holiday in seven years.
- You came here as a developer. When did the idea of opening a place appear?
- It did not appear as an idea. It was closer to exhaustion. I worked remotely, earned well, and had not a single reason to leave the flat. Belgrade was passing me by.
- What was the trigger?
- A neighbour. A Serb, he runs the bakery next door. We started talking — in broken English at first, then I took up Serbian. He fed me breakfast, I helped him with his website. Something clicked in that exchange.
- How long did the paperwork take?
- The company took a week, the kitchen approvals took four months. The main thing I learned: everyone quotes optimistic timelines — the agents and the inspectors alike. Budget twice as long.
- What would you say to someone deciding right now whether to open a place?
- Do the maths so that you could live six months with no revenue. If the number works, open. If it does not, that does not mean never — it means not yet.
