Three Windows apps trading in real venues tonight — the till, the kitchen screen and the customer display. Plus the hosting, the mail and the payments underneath them. All ours, end to end.
The catalogue, the prices and the open bills live on the terminal. Lose the broadband mid-service and it carries on selling, then syncs the moment the line is back. Nothing lost, nothing typed twice.
Cash, card, split bills, gift cards, vouchers, deposits and points — on one screen, with the change worked out for you. Card payments are driven straight from the till through Dojo.
Orders land from the till as tickets — table, order reference, who rang it in, and how long it has been waiting. The kitchen marks them done. Nobody shouts, nobody loses a docket under the pass.
It finds the till on the network and pairs itself. No IP addresses to type on a screen with wet hands, no config file, no engineer. Turn it on and it is already listening.
Counter to kitchen, same data, no paper in between.
The second screen faces the customer. Every item appears as it is rung through, with the running total underneath — so the number at the end is one they have already been reading, not a surprise.
Between sales it plays the venue's own pictures and clips. Point it at a folder and it is an advertising screen that pays for itself.
Counter, floor, kitchen pass and the customer's own screen — one set of data.
It started with a till that couldn't do what a landlord needed. Everything after that is consequence.
An old register on a bar, doing about a third of what the person behind it actually needed.
A prototype on a kitchen table, written against the way a real service night runs rather than a spec.
One venue, one terminal, one Friday night. It either takes money under pressure or it doesn't.
Version after version, shipped against what the floor asked for. The release notes are still public.
Into the Microsoft Store, then a kitchen screen and a customer display alongside it.
Hosting for the sites, mail for the post, then payments for the money. All ours end to end.
Find a domain, pick a plan, and we do the rest — SSL, email and backups included. One clear panel. No cPanel to learn.
Describe what you want to Claude, Cursor, v0 or Lovable, watch it build, then put it online here. No pipeline to configure, no container to learn, no DevOps engineer for a site that took an afternoon to imagine.
Every layer a venue needs, built and run by the same people. If something breaks at nine on a Friday you ring us, not four different vendors.
A payment layer across BTC and Lightning, built because the till needed somewhere for the money to go that we ran end to end rather than rented.
It settles through our own BTCPay Server. Card payments stay with Dojo, driven from the till.
Most build shops go quiet for six weeks and send an invoice. You get an account on day one, and everything happens in it.
Answer four questions and you get a costed band on the spot — not "contact us". A person reads every brief.
We come back with a firm figure, a plan and a date, usually within one working day. If we are the wrong people for it, we say so.
Your account shows live progress, the task list, every file, and a message thread straight to the people doing the work.
Hosting, support and updates, on our own iron. Invoices and receipts sit in the same account, so the money is as visible as the work.
Answer four things and you get a real band, not "contact us". A person reads every brief and comes back with a firm figure, usually within one working day.
If it takes money, tracks stock, runs on a counter or needs to stay up, we've built it once already.
Already working with us? Sign in to your portal to track progress, talk to the team and settle invoices.
Built in Wales. Run from Wales.
Baglan, Port Talbot SA12 7AX · +44 1792 316282 · support@vesopasoftware.com
Vesopa Software Ltd — registered in England and Wales, company number 17362206.