Attila Olbrich.

It was summer, and we were settling down in London. We ended up in Kingston, not by choice but because it was close to my first job. As it turned out, it was a great choice—one of the best areas in London. The riverside was beautiful, the shops and restaurants were vibrant, and Richmond Park was just a short distance away.

One sunny day, my wife and I were strolling through Kingston Centre. We stopped at a caravan we frequented for ice cream. While waiting to be served, we noticed a young woman, likely a bit younger than us, with long hair and a lovely boy around five years old. They were speaking Hungarian.

We exchanged a glance. Should we say hello? We decided to go for it.

“Hi,” I said. “Hi!” she replied, smiling.

“Are you from around here?” “Yes, I live not too far, in Twickenham. Nice to meet you!” she said. Then, almost apologetically, she added, “Sorry, I have to go; my boyfriend is waiting for me at the restaurant garden nearby. But why don’t you both join us?”

We looked at each other and agreed. As we walked, my wife asked, “What does your boyfriend do?”

“He’s a software engineer. His name is Attila.”

“Well, well,” my wife said with a grin. “My husband here is also called Attila, and guess what? He’s a software engineer too!”

The young woman laughed. “What a coincidence! My name is Andrea.”

“My name is Andrea too,” my wife said, laughing even harder.

(Quick side note for non-Hungarians: Andrea is a female name in Hungary, unlike in some other countries.)

What were the odds? Two Andreas and two Attilas in the same place at the same time, both software engineers. It was too strange not to follow through.

When we arrived at the restaurant, the other Attila was sipping wine, and it became clear almost immediately that he loved to talk—and loved his work even more. He enthusiastically explained how the company he worked for was the best he’d ever been part of. They had an office in Manila and flew their team there every year for team-building events with unlimited food and drinks—something this Attila appreciated, as we later discovered he wasn’t shy about enjoying a drink or two.

When it was my turn to share, I explained that I had been in the UK for only five months and was just getting started. I mostly worked on backend development but occasionally had to wrestle with WordPress templates, which wasn’t my ideal. It was a new beginning, and I felt like I was starting my career over from scratch in a new country.

We had a great conversation (mostly driven by Attila’s seemingly endless supply of words). We exchanged phone numbers before heading home.

An Unexpected Phone Call

Not long after, I received a call from Attila. He told me he had spoken with his boss—a White Russian gentleman named Ulad who he described as a really nice person. Attila explained that their company had an opening and that the salary was nearly double what I was earning. He asked if I’d be interested in an interview.

Of course, I agreed.

On the day of the interview, I was greeted by Ulad in the meeting room, with Attila also present. The questions started with the usual ones you’d expect, like, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” and “What’s your greatest weakness?” Then, the interview shifted to technical topics—questions about performance, coding, and language-specific details. Some of these questions were tough, and I wasn’t confident about all my answers.

Now, looking back, those questions seem easy. As we say in Hungary, “A good priest always learns.” It was a learning moment for me.

A New Beginning

A few days later, the phone rang again. Ulad was on the line.

“There are a couple of things you’ll need to learn,” he said. “But we really liked you, so we’d like to give you a chance. Please read through the offer letter, and if you’re happy, sign it.”

I was thrilled. Attila had given me such a glowing reference of the company that I had no hesitation in accepting. I signed the offer and handed in my resignation at the digital agency.

The agency owner was gracious. He acknowledged that this was the nature of the industry. “We’re a small company,” he said, “and we can’t compete on salary. But please don’t mention it to anyone here yet—I’ll let them know when the time is right.”

We had a lovely farewell party (where else but at the nearest pub). It was bittersweet to leave my first UK job behind, but I was ready for the next step.

What’s Next?

The new job held exciting promises—more interesting projects, bigger teams, and the possibility of traveling to Manila. Would I rise to the challenge of working on large-scale applications? Would I learn enough to thrive in this new environment?

Stick with me, and I’ll tell you all about it in the next chapter.