Once BSH Events announced that Black Coffee would perform in Croatia this summer, I knew this was one night I couldn’t miss. For those who don’t know him, Black Coffee is one of the most influential DJs and producers of the past two decades – a Grammy-winning artist from South Africa whose deep, emotional house sound has taken him from underground clubs in Johannesburg to the biggest stages in the world.
This time, the setting was the Cave Romane near Pula – an open-air amphitheatre carved in stone, where music echoes like it was meant to stay forever. For me, the night started with Fiona Craft, setting the pace with a warm, driving set that slowly pulled everyone in. One of the highlights came early: she played Like Dat by Danidane & Maaura – a track my group had been playing on repeat for weeks. It instantly lit something up in us.


By the time Black Coffee came on, it was a bit after 3 AM, but no one seemed to care about the delay. And then, somewhere deep into his set, he played Like Dat too. We looked at each other and just laughed. Two DJs, same track, same night, same obsession – and somehow, it landed at the exact right time.
When he started, the energy lifted instantly, which was shocking since the levels were already pretty high. There’s something about the way he plays – it’s never just about dancing, but about feeling every layer of the track. He dropped this mix of Rapture Pt. III and Losing My Religion. His own sound layered with R.E.M. – it was unexpected but perfect. For me, this was one of those rare nights when time just stops. He played until around 6 AM.
The organisation by BSH was seamless: no long queues, drinks came fast, and the whole event had that polished feel that lets you forget everything else and just stay in the music.
I’m a fan, yes. But fandom doesn’t always survive real-world logistics. Here it did: artist I love, sound that breathed in open stone, crowd that danced through the night, and production that didn’t get in the way. I left the Cave Romane as the sun was coming up, with that familiar feeling that this is why we go out – to find those nights that stay with you long after the music stops.



