About Me

I own and operate a residential real estate business in Bucharest, focused primarily on long-term rentals and property management.

But describing what I do simply as “real estate” doesn’t tell the whole story.

A large part of my work is designing the systems behind the business. I look at how properties, clients, payments, utilities, contracts, communication, and day-to-day operations move through the company, then try to make those processes simpler, faster, and less dependent on repetitive human work.

I build many of these systems myself using code, automation, APIs, AI, spreadsheets, and other tools. Sometimes that means automating a small repetitive task. Other times it means redesigning an entire workflow so that information moves automatically from one part of the business to another.

My general rule is simple: if a person has to make the same predictable decision every day, there’s probably a system that hasn’t been designed yet.

The objective isn’t automation for the sake of automation. It’s to remove unnecessary work while keeping humans involved where judgment, communication, negotiation, or responsibility actually matters.

Because of this, my role sits somewhere between business owner, operator, and systems builder. On any given day, I might be looking at real estate performance, improving an operational process, writing code, analyzing data, or figuring out how to eliminate a problem so nobody has to deal with it repeatedly.

Ultimately, I’m interested in building businesses that don’t depend on constant intervention from the owner to function properly.

I tend to look at life and business as systems.

When something isn’t working well, my first question usually isn’t “How do I work harder at this?” It’s “Why does this require so much work in the first place?”

I have a low tolerance for unnecessary friction. Repetitive tasks, unclear responsibilities, excessive bureaucracy, complicated processes, and decisions that have to be made again and again usually signal to me that something can be redesigned.

I prefer defaults over repeated decisions. If something predictable happens frequently, I want a system to handle the normal case and a person to step in only when there’s an exception.

I also think in terms of probabilities rather than certainty. Most real decisions come with incomplete information, and waiting until everything is known often has a cost of its own. I prefer identifying the most likely outcome, understanding what happens if I’m wrong, and making the best decision available with the information I have.

I’m very ROI-oriented, but I don’t define ROI only in financial terms. Time, attention, energy, flexibility, and reduced friction all have value. I’ll happily spend more money on something if it consistently saves time or removes a recurring problem. At the same time, I dislike spending resources on improvements that look impressive but make little practical difference.

I value speed, but not recklessness. My preference is to move quickly when mistakes are cheap and reversible, and become much more careful when decisions involve money, important data, legal consequences, or changes that are difficult to undo.

I’m also willing to change my mind. I don’t see consistency with my past opinions as particularly valuable if new evidence points somewhere else. I’d rather update my model of reality than defend an outdated conclusion.

This way of thinking has gradually shaped how I build businesses, choose technology, organize my environment, decide where to live, and allocate my time.

The underlying question is usually the same:

Does this actually make the system — or my life — better?

I grew up in Romania, but over time I stopped seeing the country where I was born as the automatic place where I should spend the rest of my life.

For a long time, I treated location as a fixed part of life. Eventually, I started looking at it the same way I look at other important decisions: as a variable that can be evaluated and changed.

Where you live affects almost everything — your daily routine, energy, social environment, climate, cost of living, opportunities, productivity, and even how much friction you experience doing ordinary things. Once I realized how significant those differences could be, choosing a location intentionally became much more important to me.

Traveling and spending extended periods abroad reinforced that idea. I discovered that some environments simply fit me better than others. I tend to perform better in places with an active everyday life, good weather, strong social energy, reasonable costs, and enough infrastructure to work comfortably without feeling trapped by excessive complexity.

Latin America became particularly interesting to me. I initially came because I wanted to experience something different, but over time I found that I genuinely preferred many aspects of everyday life here.

Living internationally also changed the way I think. When you spend enough time outside your home country, things you previously considered “normal” become just one possible way of doing things. You start comparing systems, cultures, cities, businesses, and lifestyles rather than automatically accepting the one you grew up with.

I don’t believe there is a universally “best” country to live in. A place can be excellent for one person and completely wrong for another. The more useful question is whether a place matches the life you’re actually trying to build.

Today, I prefer keeping location flexible. My business is structured so that much of my work can be done remotely, which gives me the ability to choose where I spend my time rather than allowing work to make that decision for me.

For me, living internationally isn’t about constantly traveling or collecting countries.

It’s about having the freedom to ask a simple question:

Where does my life work best?

And being willing to move when the answer changes.

Colombia wasn’t originally part of some carefully designed plan.

I came here, experienced the country for myself, and gradually realized that I felt unusually comfortable living here. Since then, I’ve spent time in other countries and considered plenty of alternatives, but Colombia has remained the place I naturally compare them against.

And Colombia is far from perfect.

It has security problems, bureaucracy can be unpredictable, infrastructure isn’t always consistent, and dealing with immigration and residency can create more uncertainty than I would like. From a purely administrative perspective, there are countries where building a life is objectively easier.

But choosing where to live isn’t a spreadsheet where one country simply wins every category.

What matters more to me is how everyday life actually feels.

I like Colombia’s social energy. People generally feel approachable, spontaneous, and expressive. Everyday interactions tend to feel human rather than transactional. There is a level of warmth in the culture that I noticed quickly and came to value much more after spending time elsewhere.

The geography and climate are another major factor. Cities in the mountains can have remarkably comfortable temperatures throughout the year, without the extreme seasonal changes that shape life in much of Europe. Being surrounded by mountains and greenery while still having access to a modern city is a combination I particularly enjoy.

I also like the rhythm of life here. I can work intensely when I want to work, while still stepping outside and feeling that there is life happening around me. Cafés, coworking spaces, restaurants, gyms, neighborhoods, and ordinary social interaction create an environment where I don’t feel isolated simply because I’m focused on building things.

Colombia also offers something I increasingly value: a very good ratio between what I put into everyday life and what I get back from it.

That doesn’t simply mean that things are cheaper. Cost matters, but value matters more. A comfortable apartment, good food, services, transportation, workspaces, and an active lifestyle can all be accessible without requiring life to revolve around maximizing income just to maintain them.

Perhaps most importantly, I simply like who I am here.

I’ve noticed that environment changes behavior more than people sometimes realize. Different places affect how much I work, how often I leave the house, how social I am, how much energy I have, and what my normal day looks like.

Colombia seems to produce a version of my everyday life that I prefer.

That doesn’t mean I’ll live here forever. I deliberately avoid making decisions like that permanent before they need to be. Immigration rules may change, my priorities may change, or another place may eventually fit my life better.

But after experiencing different countries and repeatedly reconsidering the question, I’ve stopped treating my preference for Colombia as temporary enthusiasm.

Sometimes you can analyze a decision endlessly.

Other times, you spend enough time somewhere to realize:

I just genuinely like my life here.