If I made business decisions on the odds, I would have never moved a muscle. Instead, I started a successful café business that now has 27 employees in the midst of one of the world’s most catastrophic financial crises. Needless to say, it wasn’t easy and it was often full of intense stress.

You can say that I built my business on one of Greece’s most enduring and outwardly strange phenomena: that no matter how bad things get, drinking a coffee is a necessity. A coffee, usually with friends and never on the go, is an inelastic good in Greece — like water and petrol for drivers.

Greece’s coffee tastes have changed in the last decade, from sugary, milky frappés (a blend of milk, sugar and instant coffee) to premium coffee, ground before every serving. Now the frappé is only the drink of taxi drivers and sea captains, while the younger generation transitions to freddo espresso, a cold, frothy espresso invented at the turn of the last century, and its cappuccino alternative that includes milk.

Starting a great business is like surfing. Find a wave and ride it. I’m riding the wave of demand for excellent coffee. In the last two decades the Greek taste for excellent coffee is only surpassed in Europe by Norway in my opinion. Athens is one of the coffee capitals of the world — and maybe even the café capital of the world.

I owe a lot of that to my late father. A businessman himself, in the fashion industry, he knew that I couldn’t just be an employee in Greece and he guided me into entrepreneurship.

It really started when I was 19. I was at university and my father called me one day and asked me to come down to Piraeus, the ramshackle, ancient port of Athens. There he showed me a derelict café called ‘Smile’ and asked me if I wanted to buy it. I was surprised and unsure. Did I imagine myself as a café owner? Not really. Buying and running a café was a shot in the dark. My only qualifications were that I was a social guy, loved coffee and had no idea what I wanted to do after my studies. That was it.

He bought it for me. We agreed to pay the only 40K euros for what in Greece is called “the air,” a slightly suspect but common expense that really is a purchase of the reputation, customers, employees and machines in the store. I called it Peri Kafe!

I had no idea what I was doing. I kept the same employees and machines and got to work.

Being in school I would drive down twice a week for about an hour to work shifts, doing my homework in between customers.

I still remember the first time I tried to make coffee. I was deliberate and exacting. It was like a ritual that has stuck with me to this day. I realized quickly that I wanted to produce every cup this way and everybody enjoy the coffee to maximum. I decided to read everything about coffee and taste as many varieties as possible, learning about everything from farming procedures in Brazil, Ethiopia, Panama, to the shape of our cups we were using. I also had a mentor, local coffee expert and roaster, Nikos Psomas, who inspired me to demand exceptional quality. Nikos has helped me from the early years until now, walking me through the process from farm to cup and also acting as my wholesaler.

That said, I was exhausted and as business picked up, I hardly had a second for myself.

Just as I began seeing some of my effort bear fruit, I was hit with bad news: my father told me he was dying of cancer. It was just 9 months after I had opened the café and I relied on my father’s support and ideas. It was clear that he would not survive and, at 20, I knew I’d have to run this business on my own. I was crushed and felt consumed by work and responsibility. It was overwhelming. That said, the 14-hour per day work days are what saved me from falling into despair. He died on the 7th of June 2010.

A little more than a year later I was called to the army — a requirement for Greek men after high school — which sent me to northern Greece, at least a 5-hour drive from my business. The business wasn’t mature enough to have me gone for so long but I had no choice. I left the keys to my mother and hoped that it would all work out over those 8 months. I still made payments to suppliers online and organized what I could while my mother worked 12-hour days to keep the business alive, despite a 35% drop while I was away.

Within a year after I returned from the army, the financial crisis, which had first begun in America, had spread to Greece and tore apart the economy — with society soon to follow. Greece suffered one of the sharpest economic declines in world history, losing 25% of its GDP abruptly.

The crisis was alarming and hugely destructive but it did not immediately hit our bottom line. Revenue continued to grow, while Greeks spent their savings to survive, likely assuming it was temporary.

Even in the worst of times I decided to expand the business. I had fallen into a depression around that time but I knew I had to move forward with another café if I was going to make this a sustainable living. I eyed the center of Athens for possible new locations and found a prospective location just across from the national parliament. As Syntagma Square, the central square of Athens where the parliament is located, began to see increasing violence and riots, businesses in the area began to close. One corner location suddenly opened up and I knew that it would be perfect for our second location. Every tourist in Greece and every government official would pass in front of it. The area was burning but I figured it wouldn’t always be. I submitted a bid (the land is owned by the Greek government) and lost the first time around. I was in the army when months later I got a call back seeing if I was still interested. I was. I had 150,000 euros on the line and, despite the incredible stress, I took the risk. That was my gamble — so far it was the smart bet.

At the beginning, I had about a 22% profit margin. After the 2015 elections that brought the leftist government to power and saw a raft of new taxes in the form of austerity, that went down to 8%. Needless to say, it hurt. But we were still profitable and I still hired employees, going from 8 to 27 when I opened the second location. Unlike most Western countries, politics here matters for business. The uncertainty regarding taxes and the instability that drives down wages and spending, has a real effect on profit and on how generous I can be with wages and hiring.

Despite a knock to our profit, and some big challenges along the way, starting a business has been the most rewarding thing in my life. I created a family at work, I helped people live better and, hopefully, added some joy and pleasure to Greeks and visitors through my coffee.

My advice to anyone who thinks they can’t create their own business? Don’t hesitate.

This article is part of a series highlighting Greek entrepreneurs defying the financial crisis. To read more stories, click here.



