Attila Olbrich.

My first day at the new company was as smooth as a silk scarf sliding off a polished table. It was mostly introductions, handshakes, and figuring out how to operate the coffee machine without breaking it.

The company was diverse—a real United Nations of IT. My boss, Ulad, was from White Russia, calm and collected, a strong presence. Attila, my fellow Hungarian and the company’s resident frontend wizard, greeted me with a grin and the usual "we’ll get you up to speed in no time!" Then there was Juriy, who claimed he had Russian and Mongolian ancestry but mostly used this as an excuse to wear the warmest hat in winter. Elvir, Korean-born but UK-raised, and the Product team: Stuart, David, and a few others who were part of the daily chaos. These were the core people—the dream team I’d soon learn to love and occasionally grumble about.

Switching It On (Literally)

My first task? Build an on/off switch. That’s it. A digital switch. Not exactly rocket science, but they probably wanted to ease me into things. I finished it so quickly that I began to think they might’ve put me through some test to see if I’d break down sobbing if they threw anything more complicated my way.

But then the real work began. The company’s tech stack was like an archaeological dig—layers upon layers of history. The backend used Zend, an MVC framework I hadn’t touched much before. My first big task was to recreate a report while migrating it from Zend 1 to Zend 2. It felt like rebuilding a bicycle while riding it downhill.

The database was Oracle—dense, procedural, and filled with ETL scripts and denormalized reporting tables. It reminded me of my early days building the car parts webshop in Hungary, where complicated queries and scaling challenges were the name of the game.

Manila: Tacos, Tequila, and Team Bonding

Then came the big surprise: I was sent to Manila for work. Normally, they wouldn’t send someone on probation, but Ulad reassured me, “Think of it as a sign that your probation is already over.”

When I landed in Manila at 4 a.m., the warmth of the air hit me before I even stepped off the plane. Ulad was already there waiting for us, and—grinning like a man who hadn’t slept in days—he said, “Let’s eat.” And with that, we went to grab tacos. It felt a little surreal, like something out of a dream. The city’s energy was buzzing. There was a feeling of familiarity in the air, an excitement that almost reminded me of a trip my wife and I took years ago to Mexico.

In Mexico, I had experienced the perfect blend of tequila, tacos, and mariachi music. The streets were filled with life, and the friendly chaos had a certain magic to it. Similarly, Manila had that same vibrant, bustling energy, but with an added touch of danger. The streets were alive—always packed with people, the air thick with motorbikes and the constant hum of activity.

That night, in Manila, after tacos, we continued the vibe. Ulad, in his wisdom, led us to a lively bar where the drinks never stopped flowing. And just like that, Manila became my personal little slice of Mexico. The city was alive at every hour—just like those late nights in Mexico, where the party never seemed to end.

We spent a few days working in the Manila office, but if you’re wondering what we actually achieved? Pizza, seafood, and beer—pretty much sums it up.

The Beach Resort, Attila, and the Ultimate Team Building Exercise

The fun didn’t stop there. After the office sessions, we headed to a beautiful beach resort on one of the islands. Picture it: coconuts, mangoes, and endless drinks on the company’s account. Attila—being Attila—didn’t hesitate to make the most of it. I’m pretty sure he didn’t sleep a wink during that week, constantly hopping between beach parties and the bar. He was living his best life, squeezing every last drop of fun out of those precious minutes.

But eventually, we had to leave the sun-drenched paradise behind and return to reality—foggy, grey English winters. And as we landed, the same old challenges awaited us: re-engineering the platform, updating the stack, and dealing with the ever-growing tech debt. That’s when it hit me: the work was mounting, and the shine of the new company was starting to fade under the weight of the old codebase.

Burnout and Stagnation: The Hard Truth

The more time I spent with the company, the more I felt like I was stuck in a rut. We were working on big plans—migrating to ReactJS, moving from PHP to Java/Spring, and embracing microservices. But here’s the problem: we couldn’t just tear down the old platform. We still had to maintain it while building the new one, and that’s where the grind started to take its toll.

I was burning out.

The team was shrinking fast. Attila, my Hungarian twin, left after Brexit, declaring he’d rather flip burgers in Budapest than stay in a UK that wasn’t part of Europe. Then, one by one, the rest of the team followed. Ulad left, Stuart joined Google, and before I knew it, I was the last one standing with knowledge of the legacy system. I had become the sole keeper of the PHP codebase.

It wasn’t just the workload—it was the lack of progress. Every day I was stuck in the past, fixing old code while everyone else moved on to newer, shinier things. I wasn’t growing. I wasn’t learning. I was just trying to keep a sinking ship afloat. The idea of staying and just maintaining the old system without any opportunity to evolve felt like a death sentence to my career.

A Glimmer of Hope: The Message That Changed Everything

Then, one day, I got a message from a former colleague: “Hey, I know you’re stuck with the old system, but there’s an opening here—ReactJS, Laravel, AWS cloud. Want to join?”

I didn’t even need to think twice. I jumped at the opportunity. But there was a catch: the company and I made a deal that I would still help with the legacy code for a small hourly fee. And so, I ended up juggling two jobs—one with the new company and one with the old.

This marked the end of an era—five years of my life spent at the company, navigating its challenges, growing with the team, and enduring the rollercoaster of technical debt. It was a period full of highs, lows, tacos, and a lot of long nights. But with the new opportunity on the horizon, it felt like the right time to move on, to finally leave behind the legacy of PHP and embrace the exciting future ahead.

But that’s a story for the next chapter.