When night comes, the cafe fills up, with tables outside and near the sidewalk prized the most. The menu is in Albanian, of course, but there are copies available in German, Macedonian and English. Grilled lungs can be ordered here, as well as the Albanian cognac Skenderbeu, named after a legendary Albanian freedom fighter. Albanian music plays on the intercom. Conversations are hushed.
People are aware of who is sitting nearby.
Even before the bombing, this was a place people would come. Before, it was tourists. We are busier now, a little busier, but now you see the soldiers and the journalists. Just as the Arbi could be nowhere but in Tetovo, the Cafe Astoria could be anywhere, a characteristic that has its charms when much of your clientele is from elsewhere and wishes to be somewhere else. It is not uncommon to see one or two newly arrived refugees descending the basement stairway, their faces drawn and pale.