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Need a cool escape? Head to a cafe inside a karst cave in southwest China's Chongqing, where rich coffee, natural coolness, and a stunning cave interior make for the perfect summer retreat. #ChinaCool#

☕️Just 1 km from the Sanfang Qixiang (Three Lanes and Seven Alleys) historical district, 20-year-old Yann Martorell brews coffee and bakes authentic treats at "Au Cafe", bringing Spanish charm to Baoding Lane. [Video/fznews.com.cn]

I don’t think you understand what ChatGPT Voice unlocks I went on a 4 hour hike yesterday. Through the northern California redwoods. Got more work done in those 4 hours talking to Voice through my AirPods then I do in 8 hours at my desk Work can be done ANYWHERE now 45 minute drive back using self driving? Now 45 minutes I can talk to Voice and work on side projects 20 minutes in the cafe? I can sit and talk to Voice and when I get home I have drafts on my computer for my newsletter for the next month Being able to just use your voice to talk to a super intelligence that controls your computer is unlike anything we’ve ever experienced before I don’t even care that the voice sounds human like, or you can interrupt it, or any of the wild advancements they made to the tech It’s the fact that it can control my computer, meaning all I need to get incredible work done is talk through my AirPods anywhere in the world that is the major game changer for me I don’t think people truly understand the implications of this yet Why even have a desk or monitor anymore. Work can be done ANYWHERE now The key is your set up: 1. Choose one device (preferably an always on desktop) as your main “headquarters” device all your work gets done on 2. Get the ChatGPT app on all your other devices (iPhone, iPad, laptops, Mac Minis) 3. Set up ‘connections’ in your settings so that all your ‘node’ devices can control your ‘headquarters’ device 4. Go legit anywhere in the world. Turn on Voice. Ask it to brief you on your projects, give you a recommended next step, then spin up new threads to do work I really don’t think work looks the same moving forward.

Tales of Cities | Tongren, where China's matcha capital hides in plain sight Most people who drink matcha assume it is Japanese. In Tongren, a mountain city tucked into southwest China's Guizhou Province, that assumption meets a quiet correction. The tea tradition long associated with Japan can be traced back further to China's Tang and Song dynasties (618-1279). During the Song Dynasty, a method called diancha, whisking powdered tea into hot water until it turns pale and frothy, was already widespread among monks and scholars. Gu Lijun, a county-level inheritor of that Song Dynasty tradition, traces the practice back even earlier still, to the Wei and Jin dynasties (220-420). The technique now associated with Japanese tea ceremony, in other words, started in China, centuries before it ever crossed the sea. Tongren is now working to reclaim that origin story with production rather than just history. The city wears the title "China's matcha capital" for good reason, ranking first nationally and second worldwide in matcha production and sales. That scale is easy to state as a statistic and harder to picture, until you trace the leaf back to the mountain that makes it possible. Mount Fanjing rises more than 2,500 meters above the surrounding tea country, its ancient rock formations emerging from clouds that never quite leave, wrapped in mist and rain for more than 200 days a year, long enough that locals treat a clear day at the summit as luck rather than expectation. It is a UNESCO World Natural Heritage Site, home to plant and animal species found nowhere else on Earth, and the climb to its Red Cloud Golden Summit is demanding by design, steep enough in places to require hands as well as feet. It is a mountain that guards its own secrets. Almost everything grown in its shadow carries that same difficulty, and benefits from it. At the Qizimei Tea Garden in Jiangkou county, plantation head Chen Chunlian tends 220 mu (about 14.67 hectares) of Fuding Dabai, Wuniuzao and Longjing tea, all destined to become tencha, the ground raw material for matcha, with Mount Fanjing visible from the rows themselves. Walk the plantation's lower slopes and the rows of low, dense bushes stretch across the hillside in every direction, broken only by mist rolling down from above, tended by farmers who speak of the mountain with a quiet, matter-of-fact devotion, as though caring for something this rare were simply what one does here. Chen explains that the mountain's high altitude, limited sunlight and near-constant cloud cover raise the amino acid content of the leaves, improving quality well beyond what flatland tea can achieve. Farmers add a further layer of engineering before harvest, covering the plants to block out even more light. Less sunlight means more chlorophyll and more theanine, the compound chemistry behind both matcha's saturated green color and its umami depth. The effect has a name in the trade: "covered aroma." Gu describes the resulting flavor in more familiar terms, bright and fresh, carrying what tea drinkers usually just call "the aroma of seaweed." From there, the leaf still has a distance to travel before it becomes the powder found on shelves abroad. At Gui Tea Group's matcha workshop, production supervisor Li Tingbao oversees the fine processing stage: aroma enhancement, color sorting, grinding and screening, followed by air separation, a step that filters out stems before the refined tea drops into a material bin to await blending. Only after grinding does it finally become matcha in the form most people would recognize. Li reports that the workshop's output has grown quickly, from roughly 2,500 tonnes in 2025 to an expected 5,000 tonnes this year, doubling in a single season and underscoring how fast global demand has moved. What happens to that matcha afterward is where Tongren's ambitions become most visible, and most inventive, and it tracks a pattern playing out across the industry worldwide, where matcha has moved well past the teacup into bakery cases, dessert menus and skincare shelves. Tang Yunpeng, general manager of Guizhou Guigui Matcha Food Co., Ltd., leads a team developing matcha products well outside tradition: sun cakes with a flaky, crumbly crust wrapped around matcha filling, cheesecakes, chocolates. Tongren's matcha, Tang notes, carries a stronger bitterness and fuller flavor than matcha grown elsewhere, a distinction that comes through clearly once it is baked, whisked or melted into something else. Elsewhere in the city, matcha turns up in dumplings, noodles, beer, chapstick, hand lotion and perfume. At this point, matcha in Tongren is less an ingredient than a category of its own. At a local nongjiale, a uniquely Chinese agritainment venue operated by local farmers that doubles as a restaurant and a window into local life, located in Yunshe village of Taiping town in Tongren's Jiangkou county, villager Yang Yanfei's table typically arrives loaded with Larou, the salt-cured smoked pork that anchors Guizhou home cooking, alongside a dish that still catches newcomers off guard: matcha sturgeon, the tea's flavor threaded lightly through the fish rather than layered over it. It is not a novelty so much as evidence of how completely matcha has settled into daily life here, alongside the area's clean air and unspoiled mountains and water, which Yang credits as the real foundation beneath all of it. For the people who make Tongren's matcha economy run, from tea garden to processing floor to test kitchen, the ambitions are collective, and they add up to something larger than any single product. Chen speaks of the quiet pride in supplying the raw material that starts the entire chain. Tang hopes matcha becomes something bigger still: a calling card not just for Tongren, but for Guizhou and for China as a whole. As matcha continues its rise in cafes and kitchens far beyond Guizhou, Tongren's name is beginning to travel with it.

A SpaceX intern once described eating lunch next to Elon Musk in the company cafeteria. The intern said Elon sat down at a regular table with a regular tray of food. No entourage. No reserved section. He sat next to two junior engineers who were clearly terrified. One of them was explaining a problem with a valve component to the other. Elon listened without introducing himself or interrupting. After about three minutes he turned to the engineer and said "have you tried running it at a lower pressure gradient first." The engineer stared at him. Then realized the CEO of the company had just casually solved a problem his team had been stuck on for a week. The intern said what happened next was the part that surprised him. Elon didn't leave. Didn't check his phone. He spent the next twenty minutes asking the engineers questions about their work. Not CEO questions about timelines and budgets. Engineering questions about fluid dynamics and material stress tolerances. He was genuinely curious. The cafeteria conversation was indistinguishable from a technical review. The intern said he understood in that moment why people work 80-hour weeks for this man. Not because he's inspiring. Not because he pays well. Because he's the only CEO in the world who sits in the cafeteria and solves your engineering problem between bites of a burrito. People follow leaders who are above them. People worship leaders who sit next to them and prove they understand the work better than the people doing it.

¿Por qué Musk odia tanto el trabajo remoto? Porque lo considera inmoral. Puedes quedarte en casa en pijama, con tu café y tu laptop, “produciendo”. Pero quien fabrica el auto que usas, construye tu casa, cocina tu comida o te la entrega a domicilio no tiene esa opción. Ellos deben presentarse para que tu vida funcione. El trabajo remoto no es un derecho universal. Es un privilegio de la clase que trabaja frente a una pantalla: solo ellos pueden desconectarse del mundo real mientras otros mantienen el sistema. Musk va más allá: en la oficina se innova más rápido, se resuelven problemas en minutos y los nuevos aprenden observando a los mejores. En videollamada todo eso se diluye. Por eso en Tesla, SpaceX y X la regla es clara y sin excepciones: a la oficina. No es capricho de jefe autoritario. Es su forma de evitar crear una nueva casta de privilegiados mientras el resto carga el peso. ¿Estás de acuerdo o crees que se equivoca?

Un fantasma de 2.000 millones de dólares volando invisible durante 36 horas seguidas. Dos pilotos. Un cubículo claustrofóbico. Un inodoro químico. Un microondas viejo. Sin Red Bull. Sin Monster. Sin café a voluntad. La cafeína solo llega como morfina en plena batalla: cuando el cuerpo ya está al borde del colapso y la misión no puede esperar. 36 horas sin dormir. Sin horizonte. Sin que nadie en el mundo sepa que existes. El vídeo generado por IA dura lo que tiene que durar… y cada segundo te mete más adentro de la cabina. Si te atreves a sentir lo que se siente volar lo invisible… dale play. ¿Cuánto tiempo aguantarías tú?