Taiwan felt like a place that was immediately familiar and welcoming, a far cry from Singapore’s notoriously robotic and rule-cemented society. Things just felt right; it felt like the country wasn’t trying to hard (and it really isn’t — it is hardly on anyone’s Asia itinerary, a hidden gem amongst other more exotic locations), letting its natural self shine out. When you’re in Taipei, you feel like you are just a part of an Asian city; it lacks the clear line between white-tourist-international, English-speaking, expensive areas and poor local areas. Everything in Taipei seemed to be local; our first stop, the famous Shilin Night Market, was apparently visited by tourists and locals alike.
FRIDAY NIGHT
The night market felt similar to the open-air markets in Hong Kong or in the Bugis area of Singapore, but was less crowded and more open than those in HK, and actually sold interesting stuff (unlike in Singapore). Anna and I weren’t really sure what to expect when we were walking around, but we picked up a dinner of pork sausage in a rice bun, something we imagined to be very Taiwanese. (The number of stalls that line the street with unknown items with shop owners who don’t speak great English make it tough to know exactly what to get.) The bubble milk tea in Taiwan is a known classic, so I also indulged in my first of many to start the night.
The night market is essentially a solid block of streets too narrow for two cars to pass, brightly-lit shops on both sides selling the most Asian stuff you’d come to expect, with iPhone cases in the shape of sandals or bunnies with appendages coming off the main part of it, no doubt a step backwards in portability; right next to a store selling discount clothes; another displaying Nikes and Pumas and all the Western fashions; the next with two ladies twirling and throwing umbrellas, with speaker-enhanced Chinese intending to draw us in but doing quite the opposite; the next, a simple juice stall; the next, with five masseuses, disguised as maroon-colored chefs holding what looked like spindles of incense. We wandered around the market for a couple hours, attracted to all the interesting (and useless) things we could buy, while for some stuff marveling that someone would actually buy that. There was this distinct sense of getting lost in the market, the wonderous feeling of immersing yourself in the city without a need to ever be found again. A main road made way to another interesting side road, which split into a four way intersection; we ended up once at an exit to the market district, entering the nighttime of the real world, before doubling back into the maze. We tasted the dumpling something, and what looked like and tasted like a fruit but whose name we still don’t know, a beef stew noodle, a deep-fried chicken cutlet. Anna kept a keen sense of direction as we unfurled ourselves from the night market, heading back home after a great first night in Taipei.
SATURDAY MORNING
Saturday morning ended up being more of a wash than anything else; we got breakfast (finally, a Western breakfast with toast and eggs and coffee) then wandered around the hostel area a little, before meeting up with Grant and Meghan (who were fresh off what looked and sounded like a day of bliss riding a motorcycle around the Taiwanese countryside, and an incessant reminder of some fabled buns that were just to-die-for and more). It was a lazy morning, a much-needed rest after a long week of work and a late night before.
What we did manage to see that morning, though, we loved. Behind the National Taiwan Museum — which we entered for around $0.30 and whose exhibits we felt were worth around $0.30 — was a beautiful garden, an open green space of trees and a pond with goldfish and turtles frozen with their necks stretched towards the sun, a natural nature with a whiff of Asian-ness (the Asian pagoda, etc.) but nothing that reeked of Asian stereotypes (see: almost everything in Singapore). The trees haphazardly dotted the grass, providing enough shade to foster children playing and people reading. (A comparable scene in Singapore would have the trees meticulously lined up in rows, aesthetically organized but functionally useless. Surprising that for all the green space in Singapore nobody uses them, for the equator heat and humidity without shade is oppressive. Gives a greater incentive to study, I guess.) The other Taipei wonders — a geological park, hiking trails, the mountains — showcase Taiwan’s natural nature, its inherent beauty it has set to capture without mutilating. Singapore’s Botanic Gardens hardly provides nature in its truest form, nor do the paved hiking trails at Bukit Timah and MacRitchie, nor the famously artificial Gardens by the Bay whose highlight is a few futuristic tree-shaped but metal-and-glass constructions.
The other things that made Taiwan really great: it uses US outlets, a luxury I had come to accept I’d never have until December. Also, they drive on the right side of the road, really confusing me and making me realize how instilled I have become with Singapore’s left-hand driving. I had to double take to remember which way to look first before crossing the road, hugged the left side of escalators, and took the left-side path whenever presented the opportunity. We laughed at how we unconsciously drifted to the left hand side.
The other small wonders: the place breathes, the buildings have life, the people have life. A guy sparked a conversation with us on the subway, the usual conversation of where-you-guys-from and we’re-here-for-only-two-days, what-should-we-do. The houses in the north — actual houses — were one-room affairs that made us want to voyeuristically peek inside the windows to see the lives of the “real” Taiwanese, simple two-story house of stone with a rooftop terrace for plants to grow. The city seemed to have grown organically, houses built to personal tastes as opposed to rigid functionality.
And, most surprising to me was the affordability of the food. It was perhaps cheaper than Cambodia because in Taiwan, we were confident that we could eat anywhere and not get sick. (Cambodia — the safest bet was to eat at the places catering to Western people — and Western wallets — or risk playing diarrhea roulette.) We could also go into almost any restaurant along the street and know we’d be paying no more than $5 to $10 for a good meal — in Singapore, the restaurants in reality start at $15 to $20 and go up. And, best of all, the food was delicious all around. We have yet to be disappointed by any food that we tried in Singapore; even Anna, the picky I-don’t-eat-spicy Spaniard constantly lamenting the absence of bread and jamon iberica loved the food.
SATURDAY AFTERNOON + NIGHT / SUNDAY EARLY MORNING
Detailed before (in a different post), but we went to the Taipei 101, ate some of the best food we’ve had in Asia, were treated like royalty at Spark 101 night club, then crashed at around 5 or 6 AM.
SUNDAY MORNING
Our flight out of Taipei unfortunately left at 8 PM, so another lazy morning would mean a wasted day in Taipei. The three others had to literally drag me out of bed and lure me with coffee, but we got up by 9 (somehow) and made our way to the Beitou hot springs. We again weren’t really sure what to expect; we just knew what station we needed to go to and hoped to follow the signs. What we found was a little creek with warm water trickling down it, and a bunch of resorts and hotels flanking both sides of it. Without any advice, we decided to avoid the hot springs you had to pay for (it was also already super hot and humid) and opted to go into the stream itself, as the other locals seemed to be doing. Also, completely free. We splashed around the water, the warm water perfect after a long night and abbreviated sleep. But, as afternoon approached, we decided to move on to our next stop.
We made our way to Chengdu on the MRT, as we were advised to bike along the river, which sounded awesome. Again, though, we went without clear direction and only a vague notion of where we needed to go. What we had was an iPhone that told us our location but didn’t have the roads clearly loaded, and a map at the train station that showed us where the bike to rent were, but didn’t tell us where we were. We wandered. We walked down what were undoubtedly local roads, lost but the three of us together, past locals who must’ve wondered how these people ended up there. Our waking led us to a surprise temple — surprise as in we were completely surprised to stumble upon this massive and beautiful Chinese temple, fortuitously with a view of the river and the place we needed to go to get bikes. The bike ride itself was pretty unremarkable, in that it’s impossible to describe the feeling of finally riding a bike after so long without it, breeze blowing through your hair and over your inevitably sweat-dampened body, the river to the left and a moving gallery of Taipei buildings to the right, with a bunch of other Taiwanese people — friend groups, what looked like serious bikers — going along the same path, everyone with a certain joie de vivre. A perfect end to really a great but tiring day. We were sad to depart the city that felt so immediately homey, a place we agreed we would love to spend an internship in, a city however oblivious to its own charm. We grabbed a strawberry smoothie, a Taiwanese bubble tea, and a taxi and headed back to the little red dot.