When exploring Serbia, you may feel a different vibe in each city. Head south and you’ll notice things getting increasingly hectic, flavorful, and passionate compared
Sanja Markovic
January 15, 2026
Would you like a taste of Serbian drinking culture? Then you’re in for a wild ride — and perhaps a rough morning the day after. As you’ve probably heard, local nightlife is over the top and one of the many reasons why tourists flock to Belgrade whenever they get a chance.
No matter if you’re a tourist or a new resident, you too can sample the vast Serbian alcohol palette and party like there’s no tomorrow. But before you start downing those shots, here’s a lowdown on the local hangouts, drinking culture, etiquette — the whole shabang. Let’s go!
It’s no secret that alcohol is at the heart of Serbian culture. In fact, it’s probably one of the first things you’ll notice when you start exploring local customs. But does this mean that all Serbs drink like fish? Certainly not.
Nevertheless, enjoying alcohol is socially acceptable and incredibly common. Not only that, but it has its place in all traditional events and festivals. In short, where there’s a celebration (or a mourning), there’s also alcohol — tons of it.
That’s why you’ll rarely find a Serbian home without at least a modest alcohol stash. Even if the hosts don’t drink, they’ll keep a bottle or two for guests — or, as many like to joke, for medicinal purposes.
The same goes for nightlife. For many people, drinking equals a good time, which is why parties always come with a strong, boozy aroma.
Today, Serbian drinking culture blends the trendy and traditional, offering a blast for every taste.
If you’ve spent more than a day in Serbia, you’ve probably heard it at least once: Idemo u kafanu! (Let’s go to the kafana!)
A kafana is not just a place to eat and drink, though. People dress up and go there to celebrate, to complain, to gossip, to fall in love, and to sing their hearts out after a few glasses of rakija. When the song hits just right, they may even crash the aforementioned glass against the floor.
Yup, kafana is loud, smoky, and always full of emotion.
Most Serbian taverns are still sticking to that old-school charm. But some have swapped tamburaši for popular music bands, trying to attract younger crowds.
Either way, expect live music, overflowing plates, and glasses that seem to refill themselves.
When you’re in this neck of the woods, there’s no escaping rakija. It’s the Serbian drink — a cure for every ailment, a social lubricant, and a test of character all in one.
Plum (šljiva), quince (dunja), apricot (kajsija), or pear (kruška), everyone has their favorite.
Regardless of the flavor, rakija is a surefire way to turn even the most boring affair into the party of the century. But take it slow, because rakija will go straight to your head. Sip, don’t shoot.
While kafana remains sacred, modern Serbia has embraced new ways to raise a glass. Big cities like Belgrade, Novi Sad, and Niš are buzzing with concept bars, cocktail lounges, and craft breweries that put a stylish spin on tradition.
There you can enjoy rakija mojitos, gin tonics with local herbs, or beers with blueberry flavor. Many of these bars sport industrial-chic interiors with a relaxed Balkan vibe, hip music, mismatched furniture, and, of course, a crowd that knows how to have fun without trying too hard.
You’ll find rooftop lounges overlooking the Sava, cozy jazz bars tucked into old buildings, and riverside floating clubs (splavovi) that party until dawn.
Sure, Instagram replaced tamburaši, but the vibe is still very Serbian — relaxed, friendly, and always ready for još jedno piće (one more drink).
There’s more to Serbian drinking culture than what’s in the glass. To truly blend in, you need to master the ritual.
So, always wait for a toast before taking your first sip. The magic word is Živeli! (Cheers!).
And while clinking glasses, maintain eye contact. It’s a sign of respect and trust — and good manners, for that matter.
Finally, toasting with water is bad luck according to local superstition. That said, you can still do it with soft drinks if you’re avoiding alcohol. Just steer clear of water.
Before you start knocking back drinks, here’s one practical note: the legal drinking age in Serbia is 18. Bartenders don’t always card people, especially in smaller towns, but the rule exists — and it’s good to know if you’re traveling with younger friends or students.
Public drinking is generally tolerated, but getting too loud or too tipsy in the wrong place (say, outside a church or near the police) might attract the wrong kind of attention. In short: enjoy responsibly, but don’t worry — Serbs are usually far more interested in offering you another drink than judging you for it.
So, what’s Serbian drinking culture really about? It’s not about alcohol — it’s about people. About sitting down, taking your time, talking, laughing, arguing… singing.
A kafana connects generations, while a concept bar shows how young Serbs mix tradition with modern trends. But the spirit remains the same. Connection, warmth, and belonging.
Best of all, you don’t need to be Serbian to feel it. All you need to do is raise your glass and say: Živeli!
All this alcohol talk may have made you dizzy, so go easy — one glass at a time. Conveniently, any kafana, bar, or even a local’s backyard can be a great place to soak up Serbian drinking culture firsthand.
While you’re discovering your favorite Serbian alcohol and hangouts, you’re just where you need to be to enjoy the culture from the inside. From there, making friends and feeling at home is a given.
And once you’ve had enough liquid courage, it’s about time you started speaking the language too. Not quite ready yet? Our beginner course will equip you with everything you need to meet people, order drinks, get around the city, and more. Cheers, or, better yet — živeli! 🍸
When exploring Serbia, you may feel a different vibe in each city. Head south and you’ll notice things getting increasingly hectic, flavorful, and passionate compared
Once again, it’s that time of the year. Everyone is running around like a headless chicken, or as Serbs put it, headless fly (kao muva