These days, short getaways have become the go-to way for people to spend their holidays. In regions like Jiangsu, Zhejiang, and Shanghai, you can find scenic spots almost everywhere—lush mountains, flowing rivers, traditional pavilions—each offering its own version of a peaceful escape.
At the same time, to cater to younger consumers, a new type of café has started to emerge—places that blend seamlessly into nature. That’s how we got concepts like “cliff cafés” and “waterfall cafés.” But if you look closely, what these cafés are really selling isn’t just a cup of coffee—it’s an immersive “experience” and a sense of emotional fulfillment.
While this new model has undoubtedly injected energy into rural tourism, from an industry perspective, there’s another side to the story worth examining.
If “waterfalls” and “cliffs” are the core locations of these cafés, then those words alone are powerful traffic magnets. In many cases, before these cafés arrived, these areas weren’t even developed as tourist destinations. The cafés act as supporting infrastructure, cleverly repurposing overlooked natural resources—abandoned quarries, remote waterfalls, natural caves—and transforming them through site-specific design into something marketable. In doing so, they breathe life into otherwise idle spaces.
For younger generations, this trend also taps into a deeper psychological need. In the face of widespread “survival anxiety,” people crave a sense of relaxation and ritual. Work is exhausting—sometimes more bitter than the Americano in your hand—so why not escape for a moment? At these cafés, you can zone out under a waterfall or feel your heartbeat quicken on the edge of a cliff. Coffee becomes more than a drink—it becomes a medium for emotional release.
However, you’ll notice that cafés built on this influencer-driven model tend to have extremely short and fragile life cycles. They might go viral overnight—thanks to panoramic glass walls, 180-degree viewing decks, and professional travel photography—drawing visitors who are willing to drive for hours just to check in. But not long after, many of these once-bustling hotspots shut down, leaving behind abandoned spaces in stark contrast to their former glory.
This contrast reveals a key truth: the more attention-grabbing their peak, the more fatal their underlying weaknesses.
Take the recent boom of so-called “village cafés” as an example. There are now over 300 of them, yet most follow nearly identical business models: an entrance fee of 60–70 RMB that includes a drink, along with multiple themed photo spots inside. Think of those ubiquitous roadside signs that say “I miss you in [insert location]”—they’ve become the very symbol of homogenization and aesthetic fatigue.
Some café owners have even openly admitted, “We don’t know how to make coffee, but we know how to create spaces.” When people focus too much on where they’re drinking and ignore what they’re drinking, it’s no longer a matter of right or wrong—it inevitably leads to repetitive experiences. And that, in itself, is the core vulnerability of most influencer-style cafés.
On top of that, these aren’t your typical “tourist attraction cafés.” Getting to them can be far more challenging—sometimes even risky. Some are literally built on cliffs, requiring visitors to climb with ropes just to reach them. This raises serious concerns about infrastructure and safety standards.
Then there’s the ongoing debate about price versus value, something these cafés share with many attractions. Since the experience is largely environment-driven, most operate on a “ticket + drink” model. The coffee itself is often mediocre, leaving consumers questioning whether it’s really worth the price.
There’s also the environmental impact to consider. Developing high-traffic cafés in natural landscapes brings issues like waste management and sewage disposal. Without proper planning, this kind of development can end up damaging the very beauty it seeks to capitalize on.
In the end, whenever I see news about these so-called “traffic-generating” cafés popping up or going viral, I feel surprisingly calm.
Because when a café is built on the pursuit of quick profits—prioritizing filters over product, traffic over operations, check-ins over repeat customers—what happens next is almost inevitable.
To truly evolve from a one-time viral destination into a sustainable business, operators need to go beyond creativity and novelty. They must return to the fundamentals: product quality and service.
Being “Instagrammable” can help you get started. But only great products, solid service, and continuous innovation can keep people coming back.
When the check-in economy fades, what remains is never the filters—it’s the authenticity of real life.