Do you see the sign here? It is a question mark, and interestingly, that’s the actual name of this kafana. The story behind it is one of my favourites on this tour. This building was originally built on the orders of Prince Miloš, who later gave it to his personal physician, Ećim Toma Kostić, as a reward for loyal service. Over the years, it changed names repeatedly from Tomina kafana to Srpska kafana, and then Kod pastira. In the late nineteenth century, the owner Ivan Pavlović tried to call it ""Kod Saborne crkve"", the Cathedral Church, since it sits directly across the street from the Cathedral, which is our next stop. The church authorities objected: a drinking establishment should not trade on the name of a house of God. Pavlović needed a name quickly and put up a question mark as a temporary solution. When someone asked what the restaurant would now be called, he reportedly said: ""To je pod znakom pitanja"" — ""That is under the question mark."" And it stuck. Over a hundred and thirty years later, it is still the question mark. The kafana was nearly privatised in the early twenty-first century, but a wave of public protest saved it. It was declared a historical monument close to two decades ago. About seven years ago, its ownership was actually restored to Pavlović's descendants through restitution courts. Now, kafana culture is essential to understanding Belgrade. At the turn of the twentieth century, this city had one kafana for every fifty inhabitants. They were not just bars, but offices, living rooms, debating societies, and matchmaking venues. If all the walking has made you tired, take a break here at Serbia's oldest surviving kafana. Or, you can resume the tour and come back later. If you order a coffee, it will arrive in a džezva, the small copper pot. Serbs call it ""domaća kafa"", domestic coffee, never ""Turkish coffee."" It comes with water and ratluk, a chewy sweet. After you drink, the tradition is to flip the cup and read your fortune in the grounds. Serbians drink four or five cups a day. And while we are on customs, if someone offers you rakija, the plum brandy, you say ""Živeli!"" and you drink. Declining is considered impolite. Don’t tell me that I didn’t warn you. Now, cross the street to the building that the kafana was not allowed to be named after.