Beyond Taipei

Of course, I don’t spend all my time in Taipei’s city core, surrounded by technology and perfectly timed…everything, really.

There are three places I find solace away from the city centre, but still in Taipei.

The first is Tamsui – though a district of Taipei, it feels like its own village, nestled on the coast.  It’s a bustling village, full of pedestrians and cyclists, runners and scooters.  Everyone smiles – it’s a friendly place.  It’s more relaxed than the city core.

I walk the boardwalk to Fisherman’s Wharf…a further walk than I had anticipated, but as dusk settles, the walk is quite pleasant.  At Fisherman’s Wharf people are relaxing, listening to live music, enjoying the sea breeze, and posing for selfies on Lover’s Bridge.  I take a selfie with myself 🙂

The other place I explore in Taipei is Maokong.  I take the gondola up to the mountain, and the little village there is full of delightful treats.  But, a thunderstorm is coming, and tourists slowly meander back to the gondola to ride back down into the city.  I, of course, don’t really understand the rush for the gondola ride back until I hear that the gondola has cancelled service due to the impending thunderstorm.  Aha.  People start to line up for the bus shuttle service back into the city.  So, I either take a bus back down, or pootle around on the island until the gondola resumes service?  Easy answer.  I pootle.  What’s a little rain, anyways?

The last place is probably the busiest – Elephant Mountain. We start the hike to be at the top for the sunset, watch as the sun sets and Taipei wakes up, all lights and glamour, ready for a night of adventure. The air is hot and heavy from the day, and we take several breathing breaks as we climb the stairs. The views are rewarding. Also, we meet a few Polish people who are in Taipei for some shooting competition – we make plans with them to meet up at a night club the next night, but life has other plans 🙂

Maokong has a few trails traversing the hillside, and signs for trails are posted everywhere. Though I’m wearing a dress and well-worn sandals whose soles are quite tired, I trudge on.  The sky gets darker, but this only enhances the little light that’s getting through some clouds – everything looks mystical in the golden glow. With people waiting in long queues for the shuttle buses, all of the sudden the top of the mountain is all mine! 

I spy little pathways in the forest and take them.  There are a few times where I am sliding down the trail, holding onto the shrubs and tree branches so that my bum and, in particular the dress, don’t have mud streaks on the back.  A few times I have to retrace my steps because I’ve wandered into a few people’s gardens.  I find some abandoned houses, and eventually make my way to a temple that overlooks Taipei.

In the end, I too have to stand in a queue for a shuttle bus: it’s me and a lot of other hikers…hikers who have hiking clothes and shoes on, walking sticks, big bottles of water…they came prepared.  I did not, and still had just as much fun, maybe more.

On a weekend a group of us rent a car and set off on a one-day road trip – the rest of Taipei’s coast is not far.  I didn’t plan the trip, so I relax in the back, eyes glued to the outside.

Our first stop is Yehliu Geopark.  We get there early because it gets notoriously hot – the sun’s rays beat down from the heavens, reflect from the rock and the surrounding water, and all rays find exposed skin to land on. I’m mostly all sweat and we haven’t even left the car park. 

Yehliu is a place that offers no solace in shade – it is oppressively hot, even for me…I have the grandiose idea that I’m well weathered, and Yehliu proves me wrong.  It is futile to wipe sweat off my forehead.  It’s best to come to terms with allowing the salty stuff to pool in the folds of my eyelids.  Smart tourists brought sun umbrellas and put on clothes that cover the backs of their necks, shoulders and arms.  I have taken none of these precautions…I don’t even have a hat.  My only defence is sunscreen, the sporty, waterproof kind.

Yehliu reminds me a lot of Utah, reminding me that wherever I am in the world, I’m still on the same rock.  The rock here is full of veins that are older than I can comprehend. Even when I think about my lifetime, the years I’ve been alive and examine the scars on my body, I still have trouble comprehending the age of this rock and it’s scars, ligaments, lesions…it blows my mind to think how small and young I really am in comparison.  I’m a mayfly to the universe.  Probably something even smaller and short lived.

Our next stop is the beach.  I don’t have any photos of this, because I’m torn between being really relaxed at the beach and going into the water to jump in the salty waves, and being on a beach in a bathing suit…this part I hate. I do love a little coastal stop we make where I get to climb some big rocks and pretend to be a kid. Some fishermen urge me to climb down to them, but their sprightly bodies are better trained than mine – on a jump my sandal falls down to them and they chuckle and happily return it.  

Before returning home, we make a stop at Keelung City, known for its incredible night market, full of seafood delicacies.  It’s a busy place, but the change in pace to a day at the beach is welcome; besides, I’m famished – jumping in the ocean waves has depleted my energy in the best way and I’m ready to eat anything that comes from the sea.

Then I see the squid, and I’m not so ready to try everything (I’m not crazy about squid, and seeing a whole one on a stick doesn’t even entice my hunger), but all the crabs look divine and taste amazing.

I spend another day touring Taroko Gorge.  This isn’t like my regular venture into nature – a bunch of us have ordered a van with a guide, and he takes us from place to place in the gorge.  Thankfully, we do more than just hop on and off the van to take selfies, though our guide is very keen to take a lot of photographs of us (none of which I ever see.)   The best part of the day is wandering through a cave, the icy water refreshing on my swollen feet.

Another day we drive out to Shifen, early in the morning, as the mist lifts, to send our well wishes up into the heavens, written on giant Chinese lanterns.  To send them, groups of four stand on a railway track.  As the papers are lit and the lantern fills with hot air, four hands rise with it, and then we let go, watching as the lantern sets a steady course for the sky.  My wish is simple, and for the most part, it has been true for most of my life anyways.  

At the sound of the local train everyone runs off the track, as if it were a normal thing to be hopping on and off a working railway track.  

I have many photos from Shifen, but WordPress refused to upload any of them, so just imagine a hilly village with a railway track running through the middle of it.  Imagine, also, a place where everyone who loves selfies has congregated in one space. 

The village is tucked into a green valley, bordered by a river.   In fact, a short walk takes you to a beautiful waterfall and some temples – photos also rejected. 

Our next stop is Jinshen.  It’s an area of lush green along the coast, and the hike takes us back, during a beautiful sun set, to a small fisherman’s village where we stuff our faces with seafood delicacies from a round, rotating table before we make our return to Taipei.

I’d be happy to return to Taiwan one day.  There’s more to explore.  Perhaps I could even rent a car and do adventuring my style.