Taipei: Chronicles of Perspiration – Part 1

Slowly evaporating the slick layer of sweat on our brows within the air-conditioned haven of the MRT, we were scything our way through the Taiwanese countryside from the airport. Rounding one final hill, we finally saw Taipei’s monoliths of concrete and steel burst from the tropical soil at their base, etching the constantly evolving skyline into our minds for the first time.

We sped deeper into the metropolis, the angular sprawl of buildings and billboards juxtaposed in shape, but not in style, to the winding motorway flyovers. I felt like we were entering a video game world and this feeling never quite went away in Taipei. After navigating the incredibly simple and efficient MRT stations we made it to our district.

Shilin

We left the train and within a minute we began sweating profusely. In fact, I don’t think there was a moment that I was outside (for the whole month of Taiwan travel) that I wasn’t soaking wet with my own disgusting pore water. It was reassuring that my body was fighting to keep cool but maybe fighting a little too hard? Dial it down a bit, buddy. 

Shilin was the district we chose to stay in because it was about the only place with a hostel that wouldn’t have cost us an arm and a leg (appendages we both want to keep) but it also had the biggest and best night market in Taipei. 

The night markets in Taipei, but also in many other places across Taiwan, were not markets in the traditional sense of the word. Instead, they were networks of streets that were all but deserted during the day, but that erupted into a pulsating network of activity at night. There were sinuous currents of enticing scents which weaved through the flowing throngs of people. Each of these groups of hungry folks eddied and pooled around stands. Entangled with the odours of sweet donuts and the sour stinky tofu were the clamorous electronic adverts to shoot guns at balloons or fish for live shrimp in tanks. As we waded these streets, being blasted simultaneously by the air-con from shops and the radiating dry heat of the BBQs, we decided that we would try anything and everything on offer.

Without a doubt, our favourite was the glorious product of an unspecified genius’ mind. In the simplest of terms, it was a pork wrap. In less simple terms, it all began with a whole pig, laid out on a table, wrapped in a crispy crackling blanket of its own skin and fat. Combine chunks of this with some cucumber, spring onion, a fried egg and some hoisin sauce and there you have it, a basic but succulent filling. However, the thing that set this snack apart was the wrap itself. It was a thin, bubbly, crispy, deep-fried, eggy thing and it gave us that texture contrast that deepened our love for the wrap. Other than this, we had whole mini octopus enveloped in cheese, mini deep-fried crabs, spicy pig intestines, chicken arse and a whole host of less whacky dishes. 

Despite the culinary magnetism of the nocturnal adventures in Shilin, we had plenty to see elsewhere. For these adventures, we often managed to procure a person or two from the hostel who often made our outings even more fun.

Northern Taipei

Beitou

Brimming with confidence in a barely thought out plan, Brendan and I (with Canadian Andre and English Jonno in tow), headed to Beitou for a dip in the famed hot springs. Much like the hot springs in the Wakhan valley, we had read that they were only for the unclothed which got Brendan unnervingly excited. We got off the cool MRT and started heading upwards. We had decided a pleasant walk before dipping ourselves in heated medicinal waters might be nice, so we found a path up the mountain (which was only accessible by going through a temple) and followed it. It brought us along a narrow track, with shrines dotted along the way to the top where there was a final shrine cut into a large boulder. After our unexpected pilgrimage, we descended the slippery mountain and readied ourselves mentally for both relaxation and horrifying amounts of nudity. 

However, neither of those happened. Firstly, it started raining very heavily by the time we found our way to the public baths. Secondly, the lady, the gate keeper to the steamy realm, decided that we weren’t wearing the correct swimming attire despite the board behind her saying otherwise. Disgruntled and wet from the unheated sky water, we went up to the Thermal Valley to see what was there. There was a steaming pool of acid water that tickled the solitary geological bone in my body but no swimming was to be had this day. We walked back to the station through town, looking for nothing in particular, but that’s how it always is. Lightning strikes when you least expect it. This is where I discovered possibly the most intoxicating cultural insight into Taiwanese society, one that I believe will never leave me. Taiwan makes the best egg custard tarts. Fact. We raided a bakery for multiple bread and pastry goods, but the egg custard (one of my favourite snacks) was a beacon of bliss among mediocrity. Throughout the rest of our travel in Taiwan, I would slip plenty more of these tarts into my gaping maw, some better, some worse, but all delicious. 

Guandu

After sampling the nice but overrated Longshan Temple in the centre of Taipei, we were on the hunt for something a little more spectacular. Brendan spotted somewhere called Guandu that might sate our temple appetite so we set about finding it. As per usual, we arrived at a place and I required food (temple appetite comes second to food appetite every time). We stumbled into a very nondescript Vietnamese restaurant and had one of the freshest, cheapest and tastiest meals of Taiwan never mind Taipei. There was really no need to plan food in Taiwan, we’d walk into any old place and get a nice meal. The main difficulty with Taiwan (especially outside of Taipei) was that people didn’t speak any English and there weren’t menus. Firstly, you’d get given a paper order form in Mandarin, then you’d write the quantity next to the unfathomably complicated Chinese characters. Once you’ve set about blindly guessing your own food order, you’re on your way to being a master at our favourite game, menu roulette. Maybe you’ll get a noodle bolognese and an egg prawn sandwich for breakfast (speaking from experience). Of course, this was all before I became a regular at our favourite breakfast place, ordering my heavenly rolled egg omelettes with a side of hash browns with ease. By the end of our second week in Taipei I knew sections of the menu like the back of my hand, if the back of my hand was covered in tonnes of little lines, squiggles and boxes. 

Anyway, back to the temple. We rocked up not knowing what to expect and were completely stunned that we hadn’t heard about this place from anyone online or in the hostel. It was the largest temple we had seen by far, with countless buildings, but the thing that impressed us most profoundly was the intricacy of the designs on every single part of the temple. We wandered around it for a long time, exploring every nook and cranny, but soon we had inhaled enough incense to get an unnervingly spiritual buzz so we got out of there. We decided that a walk back along the river would clear our minds but all it did was open the sluice gates on my brow allowing the torrent of salty water’s rapid ingress into my eyes. So, half blind and sopping wet, momentarily leaving a visible trail of sweat on the blisteringly hot tarmac, we paced along the riverside. Cruelly protected from any waterborne winds due to the dense mangroves, the intensity of my perspiration-fuelled rage intensified.

National Palace Museum 

Once again with Andre, we decided to give the National Palace Museum a crack for the day. There was no MRT there so we had to get a bus, which turned out to be a great way for Brendan to get rid of some of his Uzbek Som of which he had enough to make any search for coinage in his wallet a painful exercise to witness. It was a jangling, metallic shambles in there. 

The museum was pretty incredible. It contained artefacts dating through 8000 years of Chinese history, with 700,000 permeant exhibits and most were exceptionally preserved due to being collected by emperors themselves. We spent almost five hours in the museum and it was worth it. We all shared an appreciation for the size and designs of the wine vessels used for special occasions. They were cavernous and I enjoyed watching Brendan’s eyes light up with the thought of pouring bottle upon bottle of Aldi’s Baron Saint Jean into one of the cauldrons. 

Honestly there were countless interesting bits and bobs, but I think I’ll remember the crystal that looked exactly like a nicely cooked piece of belly of pork and the room full of ornate gem covered jewellery that somehow remained tasteful and delicate. I have photos of neither of these bits so here are some photos of other things which at the time I deemed photograph-worthy.

Final thoughts 

I naively thought that I could squeeze Taipei into one post but this is already teetering on the precipice of being the longest one I’ve written due to my usual meandering ramblings. So, I shall end it here but not before honourable mentions to:

1. The dumpling chain which Andre introduced us to in Shilin. This place almost became a life altering addiction due to living so close to it, peer pressure and the fact I could get 15 hefty meat filled boys for £2.
2. The best ramen/food/experience in Taiwan which was conveniently next door to the hostel. I will steal Andre’s words here and say that the food was ‘immaculate’ (special ingredient was duck blood jelly). 

There you have it, the highlights of the northern outskirts of Taipei. On the next post, I’ll dive back into the belly of the beast to deliver you everything central Taipei and all its sprawling, beguiling beauty has to offer.