It's not clear what the prototype munition actually is. The manufacturer, Rheinmetall, declined to provide further information to BI, citing Ukraine's security interests.
Rheinmetall, Germany's largest arms manufacturer, is currently focusing heavily on artillery production for Ukraine, with a plan to send hundreds of thousands of rounds — including some of the new prototype — within the year, Handelsblatt reported.
The longest-range munition supplied by Germany to Ukraine so far is the Vulcano, according to Ukrainian military news site Defense Express. Berlin has sent an unconfirmed quantity of this munition to Ukraine since the start of the conflict.
According to its manufacturer, the Vulcano is highly compatible with existing artillery systems and its guided version can travel up to 43 miles.
Before Russia's full-scale invasion, Rheinmetall was producing 70,000 rounds a year — a figure that is expected to balloon to 700,000 this year, Handelsblatt reported.
That figure would likely lead to a significant increase compared to Germany's ammunition supplied to Ukraine thus far. As of late April, the country had sent 81,500 155mm rounds in total.
Ukraine gets through a reported 6,000-8,000 rounds a day, per the AP.
But much of the company's capacity to ramp up production in the future depends on investment from the German government, Rheinmetall's CEO Armin Papperger told Handelsblatt.
Earlier this year, Germany announced a $5.3 million military aid package for Ukraine, including 10,000 artillery rounds from its own stocks, Politico reported.
Germany's Chancellor Olaf Scholz has trod a careful line in his country's provision of military aid.
Behind only the US and European institutions as a bloc in terms of the dollar value of aid, Scholz has nonetheless hesitated to provide more-lethal weapons to Ukraine.
Germany only allowed the transfer of Leopard tanks after months of international pressure, and it now faces continued calls to follow the UK and France's example in sending long-range cruise missiles.
Scott Vleeschouwer moved from Arizona to China to work at an international school.
Scott Vleeschouwer
Scott and Marissa Vleeschouwer relocated from Arizona to China to work at an international school.
The couple found China offered a lower cost of living and diverse travel opportunities.
Despite cultural differences and language barriers, the Vleeschouwers enjoy their life in China.
Scott Vleeschouwer, 34, and his wife weren't quite ready to start a family and re-budget their lives for having kids. They instead set their eyes on international travel.
His wife, a teacher, had been to China before and realized she could get a visa to teach at an international school there and bring Scott along. She got a job in a suburb of Shenzhen, China's third-most populous city. The school that hired her also hired Scott, and the two put their lives in the US on hold and relocated to China.
Vleeschouwer said it's taken some time to get used to the language and culture barriers, though they've enjoyed the lower cost of living, the natural landscape, and the relative quiet.
"When we looked through all the other places to be a teacher overseas, somewhere like China just beat everywhere else," Vleeschouwer said.
Moving to China
Vleeschouwer was born and raised in Maryland. He got a business degree and designed layouts for retail stores. For work, he moved to Roanoke, Virginia; San Antonio; and Phoenix in 2019, where he met his wife.
After eight years in retail design, he switched to real estate as an agent and then worked as a mortgage broker for a year. He also held a job building vans, from campers to mobile doctor vans to fire and SWAT trucks. He lived on a sailboat in Mexico between visits to the US just prior to moving abroad.
The couple knew they wanted to go on a "wild adventure" before they had kids, though they also wanted to work during their trip to supplement the costs. After some research, they determined they could live comfortably in China and find employment despite the language barrier, as neither speaks fluent Mandarin or Cantonese. Despite some opposition from his family and friends, they predicted their experiences would be better than what many anticipated for them.
His wife got a job as a teacher at an international school, and the two moved to China on her visa. Although he had never taught, Vleeschouwer also secured a position at the school. They moved eight months ago to Dapeng, a suburb of Shenzhen by the beach.
The job allows both of them to take more time off than corporate positions due to various breaks, festivals, and holidays. They get two weeks off for spring break and Christmas, in addition to summer vacation, which has allowed them to visit Beijing and Shanghai. They have also traveled to India, Hong Kong, and the Philippines and booked trips to Indonesia and Kenya.
"We have access to a lot of places down in Southeast Asia that are pretty quick, short, affordable flights," Vleeschouwer said. "I didn't realize that we would have this many cool places to travel to so close."
Cost of living in China compared to the US
His wife's base salary in China is more than she made in the US, and the school pays for their healthcare and housing. Their flight to China was also paid for, and the school provided them with free lunches.
Before moving to China, the couple paid $1,900 a month in rent in Arizona. They still own and maintain two rental homes in the US. He said their internet bill was $130 a month, their cellphone bill was $70, and their electricity bill was $100. He said they spend about $500 to $600 a month on groceries, and their car insurance costs $100 monthly, in addition to $130 a month in gas.
In China, bicycles and e-scooters are the most common form of transportation, which saves them over $1,000 a year. They estimate the cost of a decent e-scooter to be $300. They occasionally take DiDi — the Chinese equivalent of Uber — which is only $1 to $2 to their workplace or $30 round-trip to the city's downtown, about an hour away.
If they paid rent on their three-bedroom apartment, it would amount to about $800 a month.
Their phone bill is $27 monthly for three lines and 45 gigabytes of data. Their three-month water bill was just $9. They spend about $30 a week on groceries, frequently purchasing fresh fruit, fish, and rice. He said they shop at an expat grocery store that's fairly Westernized.
While he's trying to pick up on phrases and expressions to get around easily, he often relies on technology that automatically translates signs and labels. He also uses translation apps for communicating with people who don't speak English, which is very common in his more rural area.
"The languages are very difficult to learn as an outsider," he said. "You can teach yourself a word, and you say it again, and they don't understand you."
He's able to access many apps on his VPN that are otherwise blocked by the government, which has allowed him to stay in better contact with friends and family in the US. Still, he misses having full access to the internet that he had in the US.
He's slowly adjusted to restaurants not offering cold water and dining being community-style. He doesn't drink tap water, as boiling it before drinking is recommended. He also knows to take off his shoes before entering someone else's home.
Though he can get most of what he needs in his area, he misses the brands he's come to love in the US. Getting products like medicine or vitamins or hair products takes some time to select due to the language barrier, as most brands are China-specific. He said in Shenzhen proper, there are a lot more Western stores, as well as a larger expat community.
He has felt very welcomed by those at his school and many in his community, though he said locals are sometimes confused about why he and his wife live so far outside of the city. They've made some good friends in China, many of whom are from abroad.
"We stick out like a sore thumb, and everyone stares at us," Vleeschouwer said. "We will literally eat dinner and kids will come up and put chairs next to us and just watch us eat dinner. We held someone's baby once; they just handed us their baby because they wanted a picture of their baby with a white person."
Sometimes he enjoys doing the more touristy things like hiking the Great Wall of China or visiting Shanghai, parts of which reminded him of the US. He said the scale of cities and the "unfathomable high rises" in China also shocked him. Not having easy access to a car, though, is sometimes tough.
"We just are kind of locked where we are compared to what we're used to," Vleeschouwer said. "It's a lot like city life, except we just can't go anywhere."
They plan to stay in China for two years per his wife's contract, then they're not sure where to go next. They may stay in China, which he said is a "really good place to have children," given six months of paid maternity leave in his city. Still, they've considered going back to living on a sailboat in Mexico or building a homestead in Arizona.
The Musi app has millions of users — and it works essentially by streaming music from YouTube.
Apple
Musi is a music-streaming app that has millions of users, especially among teens.
It works by streaming music from YouTube, and unlike Spotify, it doesn't make deals with record labels.
But this arrangement is, uhhhh, potentially quite curious.
Of all the early 2000s trends to make a comeback — low-rise jeans, Creed appreciation, Anne Hathaway — I would not have expected popular digital music platform that raises a lot of questions about copyright.
Wired reports that Musi is a free music streaming app out of Canada that's especially popular with teenagers. And unlike Apple Music or Spotify, which make their own deals with record labels and pay artists for streams, Musi works quite differently. It essentially streams music from YouTube — and Musi runs its own ads against those streams.
It's now facing potential legal action, Wired reported, citing industry sources. (Musi didn't respond to Wired's requests for comment.)
From Wired:
Musi claims not to host the music videos its users stream, instead emphasizing that these videos come from YouTube. Those videos appear within Musi's own barebones interface, but some flaunt their origins with watermarks from YouTube or Vevo.
Users have to sit through video ads right when they open Musi and can then stream uninterrupted audio, but video ads play silently every few songs while the music continues. The app also displays banner ads, but users can remove all ads from the app for a one-time fee of $5.99.
As you can imagine, this whole arrangement feels sort of … gray area?
Wired talked to a copyright professor who said he wasn't totally clear if Musi was in violation of any laws — some of the details about how Musi functions are unclear, which leaves some open questions. A spokesperson for Vevo, the company in charge of most of the music videos you watch on YouTube, told Wired that Musi doesn't have permission to use its videos and Vevo would be taking action.
I certainly downloaded a lot of music (and malware) from Napster, LimeWire, and Soulseek in the early 2000s. At that time, it felt like downloading a free song couldn't really hurt those fat cats in the record industry. (Lars Ulrich wasn't really too sympathetic a character if you remember.)
Robust Chinese gold buying has sent prices of the precious metal to record highs.
Reuters
China's economy is struggling, leading to a surge in gold purchases as a safe-haven asset.
Central banks are on a gold-buying spree, contributing to record-high spot gold prices.
Other central banks are also snapping up gold to diversify their assets on the back of a strong greenback.
China's economy is in a funk and people are rushing out to buy gold as a safe-haven asset to hedge against economic uncertainties, sending prices of the precious metal to record highs.
The country's central bank has also gotten into the act, adding 60,000 troy ounces of gold to its stash in April, according to official data released on Tuesday. It marked the 18th straight month the People's Bank of China was piling in on gold.
But it's not just about economic uncertainty. The heightened interest in gold is also a pushback to the strong US dollar, which is making it too expensive for emerging nations like China to import goods.
The Dollar Index — which measures the value of the green against a basket of six other currencies — has risen 4% this year and 10% since the start of 2022. This is due to the Federal Reserve's interest-rate hikes since March 2022, which tend to strengthen the dollar.
The Chinese yuan has lost 1.6% against the dollar this year to date. It's down 4% over the past 12 months and about 12% lower against the greenback since the start of 2022.
Other central banks are also loading up on gold. Big gold buyers include China, Turkey, and India, the World Gold Council, or WGC, wrote in a report last week.
"Accounting for almost a quarter of annual gold demand in both those years, many have attributed central banks' ongoing voracious appetite for gold as a key driver of its recent performance in the face of seemingly challenging conditions: namely, higher yields and US dollar strength," wrote the council.
In all, the world's central banks bought 290 tons of gold in the first quarter of this year — the strongest start to any year on record, per the WGC.
Central banks are not done buying gold
Even though central banks have bought a whole lot of gold since 2022, they may not be done yet, said the WGC.
"Not only is the long-standing trend in central bank gold buying firmly intact, it also continues to be dominated by banks from emerging markets," the WGC added.
Emerging market central banks that bought gold in the first quarter of the year include Kazakhstan, Oman, Kyrgyzstan, and Poland.
There are political motivations for central banks to diversify their assets, too.
"It has become apparent that in some cases, nations that are not allied with the United States have begun to look to reduce their reserve mix away from dollars, as they perceive the risks of keeping these reserves vulnerable to sanctions," JPMorgan analysts wrote in a March report.
Governments aligned with the US are also adding gold to protect themselves against higher and more volatile inflation globally, the JPMorgan analysts added.
The rush into gold assets may not bode well for the US dollar in the longer run, should the currency continue to gain.
"A stronger USD would weaken its role as reserve currency," economists at Allianz, an international financial-services firm, wrote in a report on June 29. "If access to USD becomes more expensive, borrowers will search for alternatives."
The spot gold price is now around $2,330 an ounce, off its record highs above $2,400 an ounce in April.
Seasoned finance employees might drop thousands of dollars on one pair of pants while junior employees buy in bulk to save.
REUTERS/Eduardo Munoz
Summer is approaching, and that means ditching bulky outerwear for new work styles.
Business Insider spoke to style experts about what's hot and what's not for the upcoming season.
Here's what finance workers should be wearing to work this summer.
The weather is heating up, and it's time for finance bros to update their wardrobes along with it.
With Wall Street having mainly returned to the office, the investment bankers and workers who power firms like JPMorgan, Goldman Sachs, and Citigroup have had to ditch their sweatpants for tailored suits again. But some of them are struggling to readjust to non-stretchy garments, it would seem.
More and more white-collar workers are relying on stylists to elevate their work wardrobes. The gig can earn fashion experts tens of thousands from merely one client.
And it seems like the finance and Silicon Valley guys hiring these style arbiters have the right idea. Lately, tech titans like Mark Zuckerberg and Jeff Bezos — possibly by way of his fashionable fiancée Lauren Sanchez — have been featured in publications for what they're wearing instead of what project they're working on.
So, Business Insider asked some style experts — and a finance bro — which brands and styles those on Wall Street should check out for their summer workwear.
Men's fashion consultant Reginald Ferguson told BI that he wants his clients to remain "modern, yet classic" in their daily attire. Here's what he and others had to say.
Tops
Luxury meets athletic wear when it comes to Peter Millar tops (right). Charles Tyrwhitt shirts are a good "starter kit."
Charles Tyrwhitt; Peter Millar
Peter Millar and Charles Tyrwhitt were two brands suggested to BI by an early-career investment banker who asked to remain anonymous to protect his career.
Style consultant Ferguson also nodded to British retailer Charles Tyrwhitt, calling it a good "starter kit" for workwear. Those in their first year as associates tend to take advantage of its "multibuy" deal that discounts shirt prices — about $100 for most styles — when you buy in bulk.
Meanwhile, Peter Millar is more on-trend with its use of athletic fabric in work attire. The shirts categorized as a "workweek" style go for about $250 on the official website.
It's a "luxury golf brand that was smart to expand its line for its client to wear other garments while not on the course," Ferguson told BI.
Bottoms
Work pants from Zegna (left) typically cost under $2,000. Kiton pants (right) are also an option.
Zegna; Kiton
Those who dress the wealthy have touted Italian brand Zegna for its range of classic to casual looks. Pants from the company typically go for under $2,000.
Kiton, another high-end brand with origins in Italy, is "the grail for the partner of the firm," Ferguson told BI. The high price point might indicate why it's the choice for more seasoned —and higher-paid — employees.
Pants from Kiton can cost anywhere from around $1,000 to over $4,000 for cashmere trousers.
"The fabrics they choose are luscious, and yes, everyone can tell when you are wearing a Kiton suit," Nicole Pollard Bayme, CEO of LA-based styling firm Lalaluxe, said.
Footwear and accessories
Casio offers affordable watches and sunglasses are a classic summer accessory. Meanwhile, Zegna sneakers go for $1,000 a pop.
Zegna; Casio; Getty Images
Zegna's TripleStitch sneakers cost about $1,000 and have gained quite a following among the wealthy.
"In a breathtakingly short time, the Zegna TripleStitch has become the defacto shoe of private jet travel," Bayme told BI.
And while our style gurus didn't comment on specific brands for accessories, perhaps workers can take inspiration from tech leaders about which watches are in.
Billionaire Bill Gates has been seen wearing a $70 Casio watch, for example, while Oracle CTO Larry Ellison is said to have an extensive Richard Mille collection that can range from six figures to even more for one timepiece.
Meanwhile, when in doubt, sunglasses are always a functional way to make your outfit look cooler.
Vincent Peters worked in military compliance when he was poached to work at SpaceX.
He said the work culture was ruthlessly efficient and you could see Musk on the office floor.
However, if you need your hand held, the former employee said to avoid Musk's companies.
This is an as-told-to essay based on a transcribed conversation with Vincent Peters, founder of Inheritance AI and former SpaceX employee discussing his career path and experience at SpaceX. It has been edited for length and clarity.
I graduated from West Point in 2005 at 23. Shortly before graduating, I was diagnosed with allergy-induced asthma. So I graduated on medical leave, couldn't be deployed, and continued on medical leave for another six months before being discharged.
Because I didn't have any internships or corporate experience, it took me a while to transition into the workforce. Once I did, I went on to work in many different industries.
The beginning of my corporate career
I got a contractor job with the Federal Aviation Administration through a friend and gained experience doing business administration, research, and development.
From there, I got work more aligned with my degree in systems engineering and technology as a security project manager at Freddie Mac. I stayed in banking but moved into working on compliance and risk management.
I then left the banking industry to partner with one of my best friends from West Point, who owned a tech company, 2 Twelve Solutions. We worked in "authority to operate," certifying what technology can be used for US Government military missions. We got the opportunity to pitch our services to SpaceX.
I was introduced to people on the SpaceX Mission team, and ultimately, they asked me to interview with them for a job at SpaceX. After a long process with multiple conversations, they offered me a job doing information compliance and assurance.
At first, I said no, but after their counteroffer, I had to tell my friend, "I love you, but I'm going to go work for SpaceX." I started in November 2018. My primary role was showing government clients that SpaceX was compliant.
My first project was the Commercial Crew program where astronauts needed to be returned to the International Space Station by US space capabilities. SpaceX was one of the companies awarded that contract. I was brought on to engage with NASA and show SpaceX was compliant. From there, I supported some of the Department of Defense customers and the beginning of the Artemis program to return to the moon.
What it's like working at SpaceX
SpaceX is the most efficient company I've ever worked for. Instead of having a manager and a list of tasks, I was asked to sit in on meetings and add value to projects aligned with my interests or expertise.
I thought I would get fired every day during the first six months. There was no one there to tell you what to do. In the military, there was a change of command. At SpaceX, you ask yourself, "How do we do this thing? How do we do it safely? How do we do it so that it's a good value for our customers?" Then you figure it out.
There were no boundaries in my role as long as I was adding value to whatever I was working on. For example, someone would ask if I was interested in flight software, and if I were, I'd be invited to attend those meetings.
The directive was if I was in a meeting and it was adding value to what I did daily, stay, or if I was adding value based on my expertise, stay — but if neither of those things were happening, you should get up and respectfully walk out.
In one instance, a government customer came in with a 50-slide deck. Six slides into the presentation, 75% of the room had walked out. I had to tell him that if he didn't get to the point, I'd be the only person left in the room — and only because I had to walk him out. He skipped ahead to his last five slides. That kind of environment makes you much more efficient.
Also, everyone is accessible. You're all in cubicles, including Elon and the COO, Gwynne Shotwell. You can look up, be seen, and say to people, "Hey, I need this." It's very open and makes collaborating and getting to know people easy. The only fixed offices are for people who often need to have confidential conversations — like the head of human resources and the CFO.
Working on Starlink
I quickly found that once you're in the circle of trust within Elon Musk's companies, you get a job more easily at another company in the portfolio. For example, someone who started around the same time as me at SpaceX is running IT at X now — the culture is just to do whatever is required.
That mentality is how I started working on Starlink.
The Starlink team had several questions from the Canadian communications regulators. They wanted to know how SpaceX was handling Starlink customer data and the configuration of some Starlink ground systems that were built and maintained by SpaceX. With my background in government work and compliance, it felt like a natural fit for me to step in.
In 2020, I asked to help and was allowed to work on their projects in addition to my work at SpaceX.
The work is rigorous, but people are very accepting
SpaceX was probably the most accepting work culture I've ever participated in.
There also wasn't a lot of value placed on where people went to school. Some of the most intelligent people I worked with there were high school graduates.
Regardless of your background or credentials, it's a place where you have to be able to hold yourself accountable. It's assumed that you should know what you should be doing.
If you're looking for a boss to hold your hand and tell you what you need to do and how to do it, you will be disappointed working with Elon. But if you're looking for a boss who trusts in your decision-making, you'll thrive.
I ultimately left in February 2022 because I felt I was no longer learning. While SpaceX was one of my best work experiences, there seemed to be a high turnover rate where people would leave between their first and second years. After my third year, I was one of the most senior in my group, and there weren't many people to learn from.
My time at SpaceX has helped me run my own company
From there, I started my new project, Inheritance Art, in early 2022. We're working on various projects — from crypto to large language model services and even creating our own AI models. I'm enjoying the challenge, but I still look back fondly on my time at SpaceX.
Working at SpaceX taught me how to hire and manage people efficiently — I was never a fan of middle management, and my experience there showed me how to run an organization without it. Space X is a flat organization, and it works well that way.
Jeff Bezos at the 2024 Met Gala in New York City. I accidentally screwed him out of $130 this week.
Arturo Holmes/MG24/Getty Images
I wanted to subscribe to The Washington Post, owned by Jeff Bezos, for $12 every 4 weeks.
Instead, the Post let me pay $2 instead.
I'll take it! But the Post's discount underscores how difficult the subscription business can be.
I didn't set out to take Jeff Bezos's money. And I definitely wasn't trying to get one over on The Washington Post.
But that's just what happened: I tried to pay the Post, owned by the second-richest man in the world, $156 a year. Instead I ended up paying them $26.
This was all above board but most definitely accidental on my part. Some time ago, I lost my credit card, got a replacement one, and then had to periodically give my new information to the many, many companies that automatically bill my card every month or so: Verizon. Hulu. Netflix. Spotify. Spectrum, etc.
Some of those companies tell you the second they can't charge your old card, and tell you won't get any service until you give them a new one. Some give you quite a bit of leeway.
The Post was in the latter group — I'm pretty sure they let me go months without giving them a working card before they cut me off. Then I went a few more months without the Post. Which I missed!
So when I tried to read Shira Ovide's (excellent) piece about the iPad revolution that never was, I figured it was time to pony up again. I clicked on the polite message on the Post's site asking for new credit card info and prepared to give them $12 every 4 weeks. Just like I had before.
Except … I only had to give them $2 every 4 weeks, for the next year. The Post, unprompted, said it was offering the discount because of "the inconvenience" — which, again, was completely my own fault.
Washington Post/screenshot
I'm well aware that anyone who runs a consumer subscription service spends a bunch of time on retention — trying to keep existing subscribers from churning out. (It's a particularly acute issue for streamers right now.) And that offering a discounted rate is one way those services try to keep a subscriber who tries to cancel, or to bring back one that's stopped paying.
Except: 1) I didn't ask the Post for a discount — I was getting ready to pay full freight and 2) That is some discount: 83% of my old rate, for a year.
Again, there are lots of people who specialize in subscriber retention at places like the Post, so I'm sure they have thought this through. The most obvious answer is that it's a long-term bet: They think I'm one of those people who doesn't spend a lot of time looking at my credit card statements, and that in a year, when the Post starts charging me $12 again, I won't blink an eye. Ditto when they eventually raise prices. And that the fact that I've been a Post subscriber for several years indicates I'm likely to stick around for some time. (They would be correct in all of these assumptions.) There may also be people on their advertising side pushing them to make sure I subscribe because they think I'll be a more valuable advertising consumer than someone who's reading the Post for free.
But I'm still surprised that the Post, whose well-documented business struggles have led to job cuts and new leadership, was willing to work so hard to keep me. It's a reminder of what a hard slog the subscription business is. Even if your owner is worth $200 billion.
Anton Govor left his corporate finance career to become an Airbnb host on Lake Garda in Italy.
His business, GardaDoma, has hosted over 3,000 guests and generates more than $250,000 in revenue.
Despite earning less than in his previous role, Govor says he's finally fulfilled by his work.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Anton Govor, a 39-year-old Airbnb superhost based in Brenzone sul Garda, Italy. It's been edited for length and clarity.
I'm the founder of GardaDoma and an Airbnb Superhost in Brenzone sul Garda, Italy. Since 2019, my seven properties have hosted over 3,000 guests, and our annual revenue on Airbnb exceeds $250,000.
I spent over a decade in corporate finance in Moscow. I started my career as an analyst at Ernst & Young, where in five years I progressed to a senior manager position.
In my last corporate role, I was a managing director for strategy at MOEX Group overseeing strategy, international relations, and innovations. From 2014 to 2019, I was deeply involved in the fintech venture capital area.
In 2018, I purchased a 17th-century house on Lake Garda from a 93-year-old local farmer and started the journey of GardaDoma.
I visited Lake Garda for the first time when I was 21
The main guesthouse at GardaDoma.
Courtesy of GardaDoma
During a drive from Munich to Florence, I stopped in Lake Garda completely by chance. Its stunning views and the yachting, kite-surfing, and hiking available year-round made me fall in love with the place. For 10 years, I went on road trips across Europe, visiting Lake Garda each time.
When I visited Brenzone, the idea of establishing a family-run guesthouse popped into my head. Brenzone stands out as the most nontouristy and authentic spot on Lake Garda.
I bought my first property, a six-room building, from a local farmer for around $460,0000 and turned it into a vacation home for my family. I always loved using Airbnb when I traveled, so my family, friends, and I decided to start renting out rooms. I did this alongside corporate work for a year but soon realized I enjoyed hosting guests much more than working in finance.
I chose to leave my finance career behind
In December 2018, my second son was born at Lake Garda, and I took parental leave at our house. After two months, I decided I wanted to live in Brenzone full-time, not in a skyscraper in a big city, and left office work to become my own boss.
I quit my corporate career and immigrated to Italy from Russia.
My paycheck was a lot higher in finance, which made me accustomed to a higher living standard, but the job lacked purpose for me. When I started my Airbnb business, my income decreased roughly four times.
But now, whether I'm welcoming my guests, playing the guitar for them, or taking them on a boat trip, I feel immense fulfillment. Mine is a story about choosing happiness over money and following the path in life guided by my heart. I have no regrets whatsoever.
I work around the clock, but I love what I do
A meal at GardaDoma.
Courtesy of GardaDoma
Even though I work long hours, I have a much better work-life balance and enjoyment than at my corporate job.
From 6 to 9 a.m., I work on reports and budget calculations and answer Airbnb booking requests. From 9 to 11 a.m., I spend time with guests at breakfast and check-outs and deal with all matters related to their comfort. From 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. I send dinner round-call messages to existing guests and Airbnb pre-check-in messages to arriving guests.
I devote 1 to 4 p.m. to property maintenance and planning the dinner menu with our work family, who take shifts in cooking. From 4 to 7 p.m., I welcome newly arriving guests. Dinner starts at 7:30 p.m., and I always spend this time with guests at the table.
During the low season, I plan expansion, check out apartments in the area for potential acquisition, and make partnerships for summer activities. In the high season — from Easter until the end of October — it's all about organizing events and activities and spending time with guests, which is my favorite part of the job.
The business has grown to include 10 friends and family members
Most tasks are handled by family members and friends. We greet each guest in person, offer customized recommendations, and are available 24/7.
The average cost per room is around $107, and the average cost per apartment is around $215 during the high season. Meals and activities are priced separately, though I often take guests on a hike or yacht ride for free since I love doing so.
A certain psychological disposition is needed for a job like this
Govor.
Courtesy of GardaDoma
We maintain the initial charm of personal hospitality — a differentiating point that our guests greatly value, as it's difficult to find. Our Instagram account makes us stand out and conveys our hospitality.
The key to success for every hospitality business is to create a loyal guest base who visit frequently and share positive recommendations. You have to greet guests in a manner that encourages them to return.
We respond quickly to customer feedback and improve the service. For example, we launched a family home where each floor had two rooms with shared bathrooms and soon started receiving feedback from guests that they loved an authentic, close interaction with hosts but prioritized comfort and privacy, especially private bathrooms.
The next season, we included private bathrooms in each room. Later on, we added apartments nearby, so guests can socialize at our guest house during meals while still having all the comfort of the private apartment rental.
Noah Kagan joined Facebook as a product manager in 2005. He says he was fired nine months later.
But Kagan says the brief stint taught him a lot about Mark Zuckerberg's management style.
Zuckerberg, Kagan said, only wanted to work with "A players" and believed in hiring and firing fast.
Early Facebook employee Noah Kagan may have worked for Mark Zuckerberg for only nine months, but he says the brief stint taught him a lot about Zuckerberg's management style.
"I was employee #30 at Facebook. Then I got fired," Kagan wrote in a an X post on Tuesday, before launching into what he called were the "10 non-obvious lessons" he picked up from Zuckerberg.
But if Kagan's account is anything to go by, Zuckerberg already had a pretty solid idea of what his management style needed to be.
The Facebook founder, Kagan said, was highly fixated on recruiting "A players" to work for him at Facebook even from the early days.
"Mark would only hire people he would be happy to work for," Kagan wrote. "Even our customer support team was filled with Harvard Ph.D.s."
In fact, Zuckerberg's fixation on maintaining a strong talent pool meant that he was just as quick to jettison those who fell below his expectations.
"Hire faster, fire faster," Kagan said of Zuckerberg's approach toward talent management.
"My boss was fired the day I started. My next boss was fired a month later. I got fired in 9 months," Kagan continued. "Mark was intense about keeping A players only."
A Facebook stint from November 2005 to June 2006 is listed on Kagan's LinkedIn profile, and he's also written about his firing on his blog and an ebook.
In his ebook, Kagan said that he was let go after making several mistakes — including leaking Facebook's expansion plans to a TechCrunch journalist and handing in subpar work.
Representatives for Kagan and Zuckerberg didn't immediately respond to a request for comment from BI sent outside regular business hours.
Kagan's experience shows how remarkably consistent Zuckerberg has been when it comes to running the social media giant.
For starters, Zuckerberg is still pulling out all stops when it comes to bringing in top talent for Meta.
"I don't think you want a management structure that's just managers managing managers, managing managers, managing managers, managing the people who are doing the work," Zuckerberg told employees in January 2023.
In 2020, Elon Musk announced that he would no longer own a home.
As recently as April 2022, he claimed to be couch surfing.
But documents from his custody dispute show that he's owned a relatively modest home in Austin for years.
Elon Musk has been posing as essentially homeless since 2020, when he publicly pledged that he would henceforth "own no house" and began offloading his various properties. As recently as April 2022, the billionaire Tesla founder claimed in an interview that he was couch surfing and didn't "even own a place right now."
But a Business Insider review of court records in his custody dispute with his former girlfriend Grimes reveals that by that time, Musk had made a quiet U-turn in his nomadic sojourn and purchased a home in Austin.
In redacted court filings from December, Musk said he purchased the home in February 2022 and that he still lives there.
"In February 2022 I bought the home on [redacted] where [redacted] and I still live," the complaint says, adding that Grimes and their children lived with him in the house from April to August 2023. The filing says Musk purchased the home after the address of a house he had been renting became public knowledge and "was no longer private and secure for my family."
Musk understandably withheld the address of the new property he bought, so all we know about the house from his public filings is that he purchased it in February 2022 and lived there as of December 2023. But Grimes' attorneys were less discreet in their filings, revealing an Austin location described as Musk's "self-reported residential address."
The house at that address was purchased by an LLC in February 2022 — the same month that Musk says he purchased the house — according to the deed for the property. The LLC was created shortly before the house was purchased and is overseen by a wealth-management company, according to records on file with the Texas Secretary of State. Musk and the manager of the LLC did not respond to a request for comment.
Business Insider is withholding the address for privacy reasons.
"It's incredibly common for people who are in the public eye to attempt to disguise their ownership with an LLC. For obvious reasons, they don't want people to know where they live. It's easy enough to set up and can help maintain that privacy," Stefan Cassella, a former deputy chief of asset forfeiture and money laundering with the Department of Justice, said. "For an extremely high-net-worth individual, I'd be surprised if they didn't hold their property under an LLC of some kind."
The house in Austin was first bought by a couple in 2018 after it was listed online for $4.5 million, according to property records. It was later resold in 2022 but was never listed publicly, records show.
While Musk has not publicly linked himself to the address, there are some signs the billionaire might be living in the Texas home. A neighbor told BI earlier this year that the home has around-the-clock security and that Teslas could frequently be seen around the property.
The neighbor said he'd heard that Musk lived at the property but had yet to lay eyes on the billionaire. The person said they'd seen Grimes there before she moved to California.
"I think he's been there one time or so," the neighbor said in a phone call, and that in late 2023 or early 2024, they saw "a Cybertruck pulled out, and like three other Model Ys — like a little escort."
When a Business Insider reporter buzzed an intercom outside the house's tall wooden gate last year and asked to speak to Musk, the man who answered paused. After about 10 seconds of silence, he said: "Sorry, sir. I'm unable to help you. Have a good day."
The house is not nearly as luxurious as Musk's former properties — at one point the billionaire owned a real-estate portfolio worth an estimated $100 million. In 2023, the Austin property was appraised at nearly $7 million, county tax records show.
The nearly 7,000-square-foot house was built in 2017, according to Zillow. BI is withholding some details to avoid identifying it.
'Selling almost all physical possessions'
Musk has yet to publicly acknowledge that he reversed course and purchased a home. In June 2021, he said he rented a $50,000 prefabricated home. Less than a year later, in April 2022, Musk said again that he didn't own a home and rotated between friends' spare rooms. The billionaire has also been known to sleep at X or Tesla's offices.
Business Insider previously reported that a Boxabl prefabricated house called a "Casita" had been delivered to SpaceX. At the time, Musk denied living in the modular house and said he lived in a different small house in Texas. But in July 2022, he said on a podcast that he uses a Boxabl as his guest house.
The billionaire initially said in 2020 that he was selling his possessions and abandoning homeownership in order to focus more of his finances on his long-term goal for SpaceX — colonizing Mars.
"I am selling almost all physical possessions," Musk tweeted at the time. "My gf @Grimezsz is mad at me."
Over the years, reports have circulated regarding the billionaire's living situation. In 2021, The Wall Street Journal reported that Musk was living with his fellow PayPal Mafia member Ken Howery at his 8,000-square-foot house near the Colorado River in Austin. At the time, Musk denied the report in an emailed statement to BI.
"I don't live there and am not looking to buy a house anywhere," he said in the email. Eight weeks later, the LLC that purchased the Austin house was formed.
Last year, The Wall Street Journal reported that Musk was building a company town in Bastrop, Texas, complete with a private compound for Musk and a Montessori school. In his biography about Musk, Walter Isaacson said Musk had bought a horse farm near Tesla's Austin Gigafactory and had considered building a glass house on the land.
Do you have a tip? Reach out to the reporter via a non-work email and device at gkay@businessinsider.com or using the secure-messaging app Signal at 248-894-6012