With my summer break fast approaching, I agonised over whether
or not to take an international trip.
While most of the world is done with covid, Taiwan remains cautious and
restrictions, although reduced, remain in place. I considered visiting Seoul, Siem Reap, Cebu
or Thailand. I have never been to South
Korea or Cambodia, so the first two had the strongest pull. But still more powerful was the difficulty
involved. In the end, I chose to see
places I hadn’t seen in Formosa.
I looked for destinations I could reach on public transport, and
eventually settled on the East Coast.
I’d never seen Hualien or Taitung, the largest cities on that side of
the mountains. That statement is both
true and inexact. I had, in fact, ridden
a motorcycle over the mountains 20 years earlier, destination Hualien, in what
turned out to be a journey so fraught with difficulties that it had to be cut
short before there’d been any sightseeing.
A decade later, in 2010, I rode a train with Kasania to Taitung Train
Station, although from there we were immediately shuttled to the port for our
ferry to Green Island. Neither of these
trips gave me the slightest whiff of this part of the main island.
Taroko
On Monday August 1, I boarded an afternoon locomotive which
would bring me to Hualien Train Station in just over four hours. I’d taken care to book a hotel and scooter
rental as close as possible to said station.
(I had done the same for the upcoming trip to Taitung.) I arrived just after 8pm, which was after all
the restaurants had closed – this area is somewhat provincial. I checked in, got dinner at the nearest
7-Eleven and called it a day.
The next morning I grabbed the scooter I’d already reserved from
the shop conveniently located right beside last night’s 7-Eleven, on the same
street as the hotel. This was all
proving to be hugely convenient. What
was only partially welcome was the overcast sky. Welcome it was for the lower temperature it
promised. Unwelcome it would become, for
it did rain, although not very heavily.
Fortunately, since a typhoon had passed last week, I’d had the foresight
to bring my own raincoat; there is no way on God’s green planet that my hefty
shape would fit into the cheap 7-Eleven brand of coats provided by rental
companies. This provider also supplied
inlays that fit into their helmets.
These inlays absorbed one’s sweat, and were washed after each
customer. How civilised!
I set off. I’d plotted
some places of interest before arriving, and headed along the path to some of
these. I soon found that I had strayed
down the wrong road. Because it was
spitting, my phone was in my pocket beneath my raincoat, and it wasn’t’
terribly convenient to check Google Maps.
Never mind, I returned and started again. This time, I made my way along the seafront,
heading south out of Hualien City into Hualien County. Once I reached the place where water meets
land, I was reminded of the ocean’s powerful propensity to calm my soul. Immediately whatever stress I might have been
carrying lifted and dissipated. I was
reminded of my special beach in Port Elizabeth, Sardinia Bay, and the one in
Cape Town at Scarborough, to which, decades ago, I’d escape to reflect. Another thing that brought me back to PE was
the smell of the flora. On the campus of
the University of Port Elizabeth and in the surrounding area, there is a very
distinctive fragrance that I have smelled in only a tiny handful of other
places, Hualien being one of them. It
wasn’t an exact match, but close enough that the species might well be related. I am afraid that I have never investigated
what plant gives off that particular odour.
Of course, today’s trip was not always along the seafront, and
at times I had to go through tunnels, within which the road narrowed, cutting
off the scooter lane entirely. At these
moments, a nervousness returned to pull my shoulders tight, first because I
wasn’t sure I was permitted in them on a scooter, and second because of the
rainy conditions outside.
Unexpectedly, after a couple of hours, I began to feel a little
cold, and I decided to head back to the hotel to warm up. (Cold in the summer?! What a novelty!) Due to the drizzle, I had my camera packed
away, so from this initial trip, I have only three pictures.
Next I took a walk from the hotel across the train tracks to get
lunch. Then I headed to the movie
theater to check out the show times.
There were two movies I’d care to watch, showing in the evening, so I
returned to the hotel first. As it
turned out, I preferred staying in and resting.
I only made it out to get some dinner and a bottle of red wine. Netflix on my phone would take care of the
evening, until an early slumber.
On Wednesday, I got out before the reception staff arrived and
before any of the breakfast restaurants opened.
I wanted to go on a short hike before the sun and summer heat made such
a venture unpleasant. By 7:30, I had
ridden an hour away, first north, and then east into the lower reaches of Taroko
Gorge. This is one of Taiwan’s major
attractions. It is a spectacular marble
gorge carved through the mountains by the Liwu River. Here I had sought out a gentle, shaded walk
named Shakadang Trail. It was pretty and
energising.
From here, I rode deeper, higher into the gorge. I turned off the main road to head upwards in altitude to the Buluowan Suspension Bridge. This could be reached by passing a small museum and a service centre. Going across the bridge was free, but had to be achieved in groups following a guide. I guess this must be to limit the number of people upon the bridge at any given time.
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Then I returned to the main road and continued eastward, deeper into the gorge.
I made it as far as
Swallow Grotto, at which point I thought it prudent to return towards the city
in search of a gas station. Since this
was a rented scooter, I had no idea how many kilometres were still left in the
tank. After feeding the machine, I
headed slightly north, once again relishing the soothing vista of the open
ocean to my right. My destination now
was Qingshui Cliffs. I was here only to
get pictures – another hike at this hour was out of the question.
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Then I made my way back into the city, where I’d look for
Goodunderground Art Space. It was not
easy to locate, go figure, and sadly, the opening hours were listed as Fri ~
Mon only. I’d arrived in this city after closing on Monday two days ago, and
would be leaving for Taitung before opening in two days this Friday. Ah well, missed by the skin of my teeth. What can you do? Now I made my way to Dos Tacos, a Mexican
eatery recommended by a friend back in Taichung. I devoured a satisfying salad while eyeing
the woodcuts on the wall, which were made by American artist, resident of
Taichung, Jon Renzella. I have two Renzella woodcuts on my bedroom wall!
By now it was the hottest part of the day and I returned to the
hotel for AC and rest. Before sunset, I
looked on Google Maps for a Middle Eastern restaurant. I was instead led to one serving Burmese
cuisine. Out I dashed. The choices were not unlike Thai dishes, while
there was a subtle difference in flavours.
Piquancy was not compromised! My
first-ever culinary trip to Myanmar was gleeful. After this happy treat, Netflix entertained
me until bed.
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On Thursday, I headed south again, this time not along the
coast, but rather along route 9, which runs down a narrow plain, or a wide
valley, depending on which way you see it.
This is variously called the Huadong Valley, East Rift Valley or
Longitudinal Valley. It lies between the
Coastal Mountain Range, also known as the Hai’an Range, to the east, and the
Central Mountain Range to the west. I
stopped at a 7-Eleven for breakfast.
Finishing my sandwich on the sidewalk, I looked towards the
mountains. In my line of sight, just
across the road (route 9) stood Zhixue Train Station. From there I glanced around the small
village. This was the most countryside
place I’ve ever seen in Taiwan. The
edges of the village were nearby. There
was not a multi-storey building in sight.
The place reminded me of Stilfontein or Orkney in South Africa, with
wide open views and the wagging tongues of bigoted neighbourly gossip. The only difference here was that all
residences were 2-storeyed; single floor buildings, whether residences or
businesses, are very rare in Taiwan. (To
be fair, I have no way of knowing what the locals here are like, but I’d be astonished
if they are modern or open-minded.)
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I rode through Ji’an, Shoufeng and Fenglin, as far south as Guangfu, where I turned east and traversed an unexpected and magnificent mountain pass to reach Fengbin.
At this point, I turned north, back in the direction of Hualien City along the coast road. After around an hour, I was again heading through the tunnels that had made me nervous in the rain two days ago.
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By now I was hot and tired, and I
looked forward to the next stop at Farglory Ocean Park. At the ticket office, an attendant brought a
QR code for me to scan which would give me a 25% discount on the entrance
fee. I’d perused their website yesterday
and now anticipated plenty to see and, most importantly, several indoor areas
where one might enjoy a meal, snack or beverage in air conditioned
happiness. I was mistaken. Most areas were outdoors, and having arrived
at lunch time, all purveyors of food and drink were packed and overflowing. Additionally, while I had known that this
complex was mainly aimed at children, I hadn’t expected that it was entirely
aimed at children. There was little of
interest. However, I did stay, do a
little (unsuccessful) window shopping, have a snack, take some pictures, walk
about and finally eat lunch before ultimately returning to the hotel much
earlier than I’d anticipated.
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I waited eagerly for the 5:30pm opening of Restaurant Barcelona,
which had also been shut since I arrived on Monday evening. I drooled at the thought of some Hispanic
food at is most ethnically authentic.
This eatery was located just across the street from my hotel, and I got
there 10 minutes early, in the hopes of outsmarting any other potential
guests. I ascended the stairs to find
Europe on the second floor. The entrance
was a glass sliding door, beyond which tables reached to the huge windows
overlooking the street I’d just crossed.
To the right of the tables, massive sheets of glass separated the dining
room from the spotless kitchen. The chef
and his assistant were preparing. At the
entrance, a smartly dressed hostess greeted me…… with the punch to the guts
that there would be no seat for me tonight.
“How about booking for tomorrow?” she offered. “I’ll be gone by then!” I
deflated.
Scheiße! Merde! ¡Tonterías!
Ah well, there was after all another restaurant I was eager to try. I got on my scooter and rode to near the
movie theatre from the other night. Here
stood Show Green Pizza Focaccia. The
name was a mouthful, and a mouthful was what I was after. This place was tastefully decorated, the
service friendly. In the end, the whole
experience was like traveling the old continent: Spanish rejection, Italian salad, French
music, English service.
On Friday I woke very early.
Realising I had time to catch the sunrise, I dashed out and pointed the
wheels towards what appeared to be the best spot to see it. Arriving, others had already set up their
tripods. Never mind. This was a wide open park with enough space
for all to catch what they’d come for.
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Next, I went back into the gorge to find a different hiking trail. I arrived at the correct location, but the trail was taped off. Not this one, then.
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I decided to return to
Shakadang Trail. Shakadang heads NNE
from its starting point. The starting
point is shared by another trail, the Xiaozhuilu Trail, which heads SW. It’s much shorter, but also gentle and mostly
shaded. This, then, is what I’d do.
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En route back into the city, I stopped at Hualien County Stone
Sculpture Museum Park. Getting there
required traveling along roads that brought me back to La Rambla in Montevideo
and Mouille Point in Cape Town – buildings on one side of the road, a park and
the ocean on the other.
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By mid-morning, the furious sun was already scalding all who
dared to be outdoors. I returned to the
hotel to get clean and pack. My noontime
train was also angrily hot, its air conditioner obviously no longer in good
order, and it was all that I could do to keep my cool for the duration of the
2-hour ride. Fortunately, the passenger
beside me was traveling with another a few rows back, and as soon as he could,
he took a seat beside his companion, leaving the one beside me vacant. I could now stretch out a little and lower
the temperature between my torso and limbs.
A slight distraction was this: announcements during this journey were
made in one additional language. I had
never heard the language before, and neither did it sound in any way
Sino-Tibetan. It was clearly a local
aboriginal language; Taiwanese aborigines speak languages belonging to the
Austronesian linguistic group. That
brought the total number of languages in which announcements were made on this
train to five: Mandarin, English, Taiwanese, Hakka and this aboriginal one.
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| This is the only time I've seen billboards or signs in an aboriginal language. |
Crushing Heat & Crucifixes
Arriving in Taitung, I vaguely remembered the station from 12
years ago. I made my way to the scooter
rental company. The service here was not
as friendly as it had been in Hualien, but it was efficient and fast. It was a quick ride to the hotel, where I
checked in and cooled down for a couple of hours. Here, at least, I was able to park in the
basement, allowing for a cooler seat upon mounting the vehicle. This establishment was costlier and much more
comfortable than the one I’d chosen in Hualien, and here breakfast was
included. (It was, however, just
alright, nothing to write home about, and the choices were the same each day.)
As evening approached, I made my way into the downtown
area. I thought it odd that the train
station that bore the name of the city was not downtown. This is indeed the only one I know that lies
on the outskirts of town. (On the
contrary, most stations of the Taiwan High Speed Rail lie on the outskirts of
the cities they service because the high speed rail was much more recently
constructed.) After doing some research,
I found that the original Taitung Train Station used to be located
downtown. At that time, the train tracks
ended here. It was not until the 1980s
that the South-Link Line was constructed, connecting Taitung to Kaohsuing. When the new tracks were ready, the old
Taitung Train Station was no longer able to cope with the increased traffic,
and a newer station was built where it now stands. The old one was decommissioned and is now the
exciting Railway Art Village, which I’d eventually visit on my third night
here.
Today, however, I was in search of Sam’s Burger, where I’d
already decided from their online menu that I’d be having fish and chips for
dinner. I arrived around opening time,
again in the hopes of getting in before the booked guests arrived, and this
time, voila! I enjoyed my meal. After that I took my clothes to a coin
operated laundromat so that I could put that chore out of my mind for the rest
of the trip. While they tossed and
churned, I wandered the streets. I
noticed that this part of the city, the oldest part, in the vicinity of the
original train station, was markedly traditional. All the stores were specialised; they seemed
to offer only a handful of products or a single service. While such specialised, traditional stores
are dotted everywhere on the island, in no other place I’ve visited have they
been so densely packed together. The
owners also appeared to have been here since the 1960s. This was in stark contrast to the parts of
the city I rode through to get here, where I was surprised by how modern and
unlike the rest of Taiwan the buildings appeared. Some were painted instead of tiled, and the
ubiquitous neon signs were noticeable for their absence. Leaving the traditional area once my clothes
had tumbled away their damp, I again passed through the more modern part. Here everything was quieter, calmer, sleepy
almost.
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On Saturday, I hopped on the scooter and headed north, almost to
the border with Hualien County, stopping along the way at anything that caught
my eye. Almost immediately I rode past a
group of six statues standing on the side of the road for no discernible
reason. I bet their raison d’être lay exposed
in the Chinese banners displayed behind them, but I have never needed to know
what a piece means or how it came to exist in order to love it.
Next, I found myself at Fugang Fishing Harbour, which was surely
the same port from which Kasania and I had embarked on our Green Island
adventure so long ago. I didn’t feel
like walking in the hot sun, so I rode my scooter around to see if there were
good pictures to be had. The skipper of
the ferry called to me over the PA system, instructing me to ride to the back
of the vessel for embarkation. I turned
around and rode off in defiance.
At Xiaoyeliu, there was something of geologic and botanic
interest. The first syllable of this
name, “Xiao” translates as “small”, and Yehliu is a place of identical geologic
interest in northeastern Taiwan. While
the spelling of the names in English differs, the Chinese characters are the
same, 野柳. I have not seen the one in the north yet, nor
did I stay long here – despite the early hour, it was already sweltering.
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I continued north. Along
the route, there were plenty of pretty things to stop and look at. There were tiny villages, beaches, aboriginal
art, and a multitude of churches. There
were so many churches that I’m certain they outnumbered Buddhist and Taoist
temples. This part of the island is
largely inhabited by aboriginal folk, who are predominantly Christian. In one village I stopped for water, parking,
by chance, right in front of a cute coffee shop. I went in for a cuppa, speaking Mandarin at
first. However, the waitress spoke
English, and we had a pleasant exchange as I drank.
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The northern tip of my journey today was in the village of
Chenggong, where there is a tiny island connected to the land by an eight-arch
bridge. I’d intended to cross it, but
like I said, the sun was merciless, and as I gazed across the water, I saw no
one actually on the island. It seemed
the attraction was to simply walk across and then back. I opted to not do that.
Instead I decided to plot my southbound journey along another mountain pass. This would bring me up, up, up nearly to the ridge of the Coastal Mountain Range. I had hoped to stop along this route for a gentle hike. However, it would transpire that I’d bitten off a bit too much to chew. I made slow progress; the road was narrow, meandering, steep, and very lonely. At times, the view was breathtaking.
I did not look for the
start of the trail. I was now tired of
being on the scooter and the difficult pass.
Despite this, after coming down into Huadong Valley, I did turn north to
search for an establishment where pottery was made and sold. I didn’t find that place, but did find lunch
at Angel Mini Café. I had a snack that
resembled a hot dog and a caramel flavoured milky drink. The owner of this eatery was from Taichung,
as am I. When I answered that I wasn’t
married, he told me to go find a wife in the tree-lined market down the
road.
Now I’d truly worn myself out and returned to the hotel, a full
eight hours after departing. All I was
able to muster for the rest of the day was dinner. I rode half way back towards downtown, where
I’d located a fish shop called Mahi Mahi Today.
Here I had fish and chips for the second time, accompanying it with a
green salad. The salad was very green –
there were several nuts and otherwise only iceberg lettuce; no onion, no
peppers, no colour whatsoever. Never
mind. The fish and chips were tasty and
dinner was done.
Waking on Sunday, it was immediately clear that I’d stay out of
the sun as far as possible today.
Yesterday’s eight hours had left me with sunburn, despite my regular
application of sunscreen. No
worries. I’d also plotted indoor
activities before arriving, knowing that it was high summer. After breakfast, I went first to the Sheraton
Hotel to book a table for tonight’s buffet.
Then I took myself to the Taitung Art Museum. The exhibition here was by only female
artists, and some of the pieces were profound.
I got video footage of several installations as this was the best way, I
thought, to try to capture some of the effect.
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My next stop was at the National Museum of Prehistory, where there
was an art exhibition, From
Prehistory to HERstory, and not a single prehistoric artifact to
be seen. The exhibition I had anticipated was housed instead at the outdoor Beinan Archaeological Site, a stone’s
throw from my hotel and the Taitung Train Station. With my sunburn from
yesterday, I would not head there.
It was lunch time, so I took myself back to Sam’s Burger, stopping en route at Showtime Plaza to get a ticket. This time at Sam’s, I chose a dish that matched their name. It was as good as the fish and chips had been two nights ago. Then I returned to the hotel to wait for the early evening showing of Bullet Train. Exiting the delightful air conditioning of Formosan Naruwan Garden Hotel, I scooted back downtown, parked near Sam’s, since I knew I’d find a spot there, and walked the couple of blocks to Showtime Plaza. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie. After a brief epilogue during the closing credits, I headed outdoors. It was now after sunset and cooler. I strolled briefly around Railway Art Village before jumping back on my scooter and heading to dinner at the Sheraton.
There was a large selection to choose from,
but being picky as I am, my choices were limited. I determined to eat no carbs so that I could
fill up on delicious meats. I was disappointed
in the roast beef, the wagyu beef and the lamb chops, so I then dished up
pizza, noodles and the like. I finished
with a selection of desserts. On the
whole, I was rather disappointed with the meal and pissed that I’d spent over
1000nt on it. Ah well.
The train that would bring me back home would leave on Monday Aug 8, but not until 2pm. In the morning I made my way to the Beinan Archaeological Site, but alas, it was closed on Mondays. Then I returned to Railway Art Village to get some pictures by the light of day. Here I also took lunch at Wow’s Pangcah. In this oddly named eatery, I had a pizza with chorizo, which was served to me by a foreigner, who I can only assume was the owner – I have never seen a foreigner wait tables in Taiwan. It was tasty.
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Leaving, I spotted a curio store in the next container. I’d been looking for some art or craft to bring back as a souvenir. Here were handcrafted items made by aboriginal people, and I spent some time selecting. The assistant struck up a conversation with me in Mandarin, which went well at first, but slowly devolved into gibberish as the cracks in my ability gave themselves a good airing.
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| The items circled in purple crayon |
By the time she was done carefully
bubble-wrapping my purchases, there was only time to pick my bag up from the
hotel, where I’d already checked out, drop off the scooter and walk to the
station.
As I said earlier, I found Taitung to be a sleepy town, peaceful
and calm. I enjoyed my visit. However, I would only ever consider moving
here when I am clinging to life by a single, precarious thread.
On the east coast, I thought, the greater prevalence of heads of
grey hair contrasted with other parts of Taiwan. The vast majority of Taiwanese, male and
female, dye their hair as soon as it starts to turn, and do so for the rest of
their lives. I’m always taken by how
distinguished a silver head looks when I come across one. Here, it seemed, this aspect of ageing
bothered fewer people.
Here, at first, I thought that people followed the rules of the
road. At many red lights, when it was obvious no traffic was coming across the
green, people nevertheless waited until it was legal to turn right. That was astonishing. But I soon came to realise that the rules
were simply broken in a way that differed from what I’d seen in my area. My careful acclimatisation to Taiwanese
traffic was for naught here. On the
other hand, for the first time since I moved here, I witnessed motorists doing
what they do in South Africa: pulling over into the shoulder to let faster vehicles
pass.
From the train window (Hualien to Taitung) and from the scooter
on my 8-hour day, I came to see that there is indeed a rural part to
Taiwan. The most rural I’d seen to date
was what we in South Africa might call small holdings, chiefly evident on train
rides and from the freeway in counties like Miaoli, Changhua, Yunlin, Tainan and
Pingtung. While the locals call it
countryside, there are still several residences strangling the farmlands
between. In the Huadong Valley, there
were vast fields, and sometimes no residences could be seen.
I preferred the choices of restaurant in Hualien. There was more variety and several blew my
socks off. In Taitung I found myself
going to the same place twice because I was unable to find anything else that
attracted my palate.
In Between
After getting home, I’d spend a week running errands and meeting friends. There were several doctors’ appointments, mostly tests of a preventative nature. Some brought relief, others brought restrictions. On Wednesday I had lunch with Sara and her son, who would be returning to the Philippines the next week. They live there, though Sara is Taiwanese and a former colleague, but returned to Taiwan at the start of the pandemic to reap the benefits of the Taiwan’s magnificent healthcare system. On Thursday, Elvi came to stay. She and I met Carmina for dinner and then came home to my rooftop. After Carmina went home, Elvi and I continued chatting until after midnight. On Friday, we took lunch at Burger Joint and then visited the science museum. From there, we separated – Elvi would get a massage and then return to Miaoli. On Saturday, I dashed out to meet Darrin, who’d brought me something from the US. With him were Eric, Max and Miranda, and we had a quick catch-up. Then I went to Sunny Queen, where Alice and Dylan (mother and son) would start their combined birthday party.
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| The tiara was bought for his mom, but Dylan put it on and then decided I needed a turn. |
After eating, the party continued with drinks
at Alice’s home. On Sunday, I kept my
door closed all day and spoke to no one, not even my roommate.
Landlocked
Monday afternoon was taken up with appointments at the hospital (already mentioned), and on Tuesday, I was off again. This time I headed south to Nantou County, and this time I rode my own scooter. Fun fact: Nantou is the only landlocked county in the country. While I have visited Sun Moon Lake many times and been to Nantou on school trips several times, I’d not seen southwestern Nantou, nor indeed Nantou City. Today I made my way via Nantou City to Jiji. I had plotted a route on Google Maps. If I do this from my phone, I am able to choose a motorbike as my mode of transportation; this does not work on my computer, oddly.
I hadn’t anticipated that Google took my
vehicle for a large motorbike. Large
motorbikes are allowed along certain fast roads; scooters are not. Consequently, there were several U-turns and
reroutings, and at one point, I made it all the way to the top of an on-ramp
before realising my error. I turned back
and scurried down, against traffic, as fast as I could, hoping to avoid all
vehicles and traffic police. Google was
not on my side; fortunately the universe was, and neither vehicle nor officer
thwarted my descent.
I made it to Nantou City, though there were moments I seriously considered giving up. Since it was
midday, my first stop was at Qingshui Zhuti Restaurant. The food looked good in their online
photos. I was not disappointed with my
choice as a walked in. The eatery was
tastefully laid out and, most importantly, air conditioned. The food, it turned out, was nice, but no
better than the cheap steakhouses that are as ubiquitous in Taiwan as
7-Elevens. This was more expensive, but
came with several courses and friendly service.
I never order steak in a cheap steakhouse as it is always disappointing,
opting instead for the pork chops, which are always delightful. All in all, I was totally satisfied with my
choice.
After refueling, I stopped at Nantou Bamboo Museum. There were several exhibitions, though only
one was bamboo related, and I found myself wanting to add “..and Art..” to
the title. I did like what I saw.
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Next I stopped briefly at Nantou Winery. This was hardly worth the trip, even from
just down the road in Nantou City, and certainly give it a skip if you’re
coming from further afield.
From here I rode to the hotel I’d booked in Jiji. After cooling down and waiting for late
afternoon, I took a walk to an ice cream shop called Scoop, where I had a
homemade, fruit-flavoured treat. The
owner and cook - (Do we call one who makes ice cream a cook or a manufacturer?)
– was kind enough to convince me that three scoops would be too much. He then still gave me tiny scoops of two
extra flavours, on top of the two large scoops I ordered.
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I ambled, taking pictures, but ultimately bought dinner from the
Family Mart, returning to the hotel for the night. The experience at this hotel deserves a bit
of attention. First of all, because it
was surrounded by large trees, it was not visible from the road, nor was the
road visible from within. In fact, there
were so many trees that the three or four buildings that made up the complex
were barely visible one from the other.
This provided a secluded, natural, relaxing ambiance. Breakfast was included and served in a dining
room designed to create a whiff of Alpine chalet. On the morning after the first night, there
was one other couple in the dining room with me, but for the remaining two
nights (and following breakfasts), I was the only guest. It was during the week, and I’d chosen this
to avoid the crowds, but I hadn’t imagined how quiet it would be, both here in
the hotel, and at all the surrounding attractions. Breakfast was outstanding. Because of the low occupancy, we (I) received
our (my) meals on a tray at the table, rather than laid out on the buffet at
the end of the room. Chinese breakfast
is usually less than appetizing to me, not least because it includes cooked
vegetables. While this is healthy, soy
sauce and garlic seasoning is just odd in the morning. Having said that, the version provided here
was delicious and tremendously healthy.
Peppers, mushrooms, carrots, sweet potato and onion accompanied a meaty
delight. On the first morning, there was
also xifan (rice porridge), which I don’t care for and didn’t finish. On the second morning, the chef asked me to
let him know what I don’t eat, and so I did.
The xifan turned out to be the only part of the three meals that I
didn’t finish, for on the second and third days, everything on my plate was
delectable. The chef, too, stood
out. He was friendly and attentive,
coming to the table to make polite conversation, though once he’d established
my ability, he didn’t spend too much time on me, thankfully. While he was there, he ran his hands through
his hair, which reached all the way to his hips. Long hair on a Taiwanese man is very unusual,
and it suited this guy so well as to be striking. His demeanor was personable, comforting and
pleasant. If you find yourself in Jiji,
stay at Champs Yazuh BnB.
After breakfast on Wednesday, it was time to explore.
Jiji lies at the epicentre of the 921
earthquake (Sep 21, 1999), Taiwan’s strongest tremour in the past half
century. This temple, which collapsed,
was left as a ruin to commemorate the disaster.
I was headed to Checheng, but first I decided to go up the hill
to see what was sticking out at the top.
Once again, Google Maps disappointed, taking me along treacherously
narrow mountain roads, and at one point I was chased, for longer than normal,
by an unwelcoming mutt. (All too often,
roadside canines enjoy the sport as I pass. I really hate it, and I’m beginning
to wonder if I even like dogs at all.)
What I eventually found at the top of the hill was definitely worth it,
and fortuitously, the monk who greeted me on arrival pointed out an easier way
to return down the hill.
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Checheng is a tiny village located just below Mingtan
Reservoir. It is serviced by a train
line that ends here, although it appeared to me that this terminal station was
currently, or is permanently, closed. (Taiwan’s
Railway System, not including the high speed rail, has one main line that
encircles the main island. In the
Changhua / Taichung / Miaoli area, the line splits in two, each branch heading
north-south, one along the coast and one slightly inland. In addition to this main track, there are six
short tracks that poke fingers into areas not serviced by the main line. Checheng lies at the end of one of these
fingers, which also services Jiji.)
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Upstream from Mingtan is Minghu Reservoir, and both of these are fitted with hydroelectric power stations. The village and surrounding nature are beautiful.
After wandering a while, I looked for lunch
in the town of Shuili, through which I’d passed on my way to Checheng. From photos online, I decided to eat at a
restaurant beside the train station, which lies on the same finger, between
Jiji and Checheng. As I entered, I
noticed only one person, who would turn out to be the hostess. She let out a resounding and lengthy fart,
unaware that anyone had entered. Since
all the windows were open and the room was spacious, I decided to ignore
it. The room was filled with pretty
bamboo furniture which was so low as to make my seat difficult to plonk down
onto. I ordered a meal of chicken and
vegetables from the septuagenarian farter.
She then started a friendly conversation. Her Taiwanese accent was strong, and I had
difficulty understanding her. I had
hoped she’d simply let me eat in peace, but she continued prying about where my
wife was. Once my food arrived, I ate as
quickly as I could. It was really tasty,
but I needed to get away from the “lost in translation” episode. I returned to my hotel, stopping briefly at
Daguan Tunnel.
(I was not inclined to walk through this tunnel since I knew nothing about it. Some years later, I'd return here on a field trip with students. Our guides led us through it. The tunnel was pretty wet, though not pitch-dark - the opening at each end was visible. I wouldn't advise walking without a flashlight, though, because of the wet ground and the several clusters of resting bats you disturb along the way.)
Dinner was problematic.
Like I said, it was very quiet; many places weren’t open, and of the
available choices, my pickiness narrowed the field more. I selected a place that looked good and
walked there from Champs Yazuh. A light
rain fell. As I approached, workmen were
fixing a leak in the restaurant’s entrance, and the owner told me they were
closed on account of the repairs. I had
only one other choice – Bafang, a purveyor of dumplings that has branches
across the nation.
On Thursday I headed up, up, up the mountain to a place called
Xitou (Creek Source), of which I’d heard for years but never seen. I had to pass through Shuili and the
delightfully unexpected Lugu, a large village on the slopes. Arriving in Xitou, my eyes danced and my
heart fluttered. What a magical place
lay before me! Here colonial Japan met
The Hobbit.
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I wandered about, snapping away.
I bought some biscuits to share with my colleagues as a souvenir. Then I stepped into a curio store. I wasn’t expecting much, but I did end up
spending both time and money here.
Departing Jap-Hobbiton, I plotted a course through the mountains to Dongpu Hot Spring. I didn’t plan to get into the water, only to enjoy the scenery. By going through the mountains, I would avoid descending all the way to Shuili, only to ascend again a few kilometres to the east. I did worry that I’d find myself again on a choked pass and be chased once more by aggressive canines. At first, my gamble paid off and I got very close to the road that ascended from Shuili, but then there was a turn up an extremely narrow path. I relented and turned back. This had been a great ride, though, up to this point, and I was not upset that I’d wasted time.
I got back onto the Xitou-Shuili road, passed through Lugu and decided to call it a day.
Arriving in Shuili, however, I changed my mind again. I pointed my scooter once again into the
mountains. I’d approach Dongpu from this
more comfortable road. I got about half
way to my destination, when the final blow turned me back: it started
raining. Ah well, I’d seen a lot and
could happily rest at Champs Yazuh.
For dinner, I returned to the leaky restaurant from
yesterday. Although it was after 5pm,
their opening time, the lights were off.
I decided to have unhealthy fried chicken take-out instead. Riding back the same way after my chicken was
ready, the bloody restaurant was now open.
Whatever!
On Friday after breakfast, I packed and headed straight
home. Enough gallivanting for now. I did not return through Nantou City, but
rather went passed Sun Moon Lake, down the 21, along the 14, and finally via
the 136 to Taiping. While on the 136, I
was certain that the bike was slipping slightly. More's the pity; you see, this road lends itself superbly to leaning into bends at exhilirating speeds. I kept checking my back tyre, kicking
it to test the pressure, studyng the tread and comparing it to the one on the front wheel, but it seemed to be fine. I made it to Taiping, where the slipping got
worse. I took a photo of it while I was sitting
on the seat. It still looked fine, even as
it felt wrong. I was now near
home, and stopped at a tyre shop, where, lo and behold, they found
a nail in my back tyre. The repair was
fast and cheap, and I was home by 11:30.
Despite these recent 24 hours of challenges, I had enjoyed
riding around different parts of the island on a scooter. This may prove to be my last two-wheeled
trip, for I’m about to purchase my first car since moving here.
Garfield and Friends
The final unusual excursion of the holiday was this: when Elvi stayed during my week of doctor's visits, she told me about a hot air balloon event that would soon be taking place. There is an anual event in Taitung, but I was not there at the time of that event. If memory serves, the Taichung appearance is a recent extention of that, perhaps for the past two years. Anyway, Lourens was keen to go, so we met outside my place at 4:10am and rode north. We'd considered paying to go up in one, a short and cheap ride, but relented after seeing the endless queue. Instead, we went to the far end of the field to observe.
