Taipei: Chronicles of Perspiration – Part 2

So, in my previous post I pulled back the cover on what northern Taipei has to offer, but now as we ride the MRT deeper into the stifling concrete shadows of the urban sprawl, we look for both respite in the open spaces and opportunities to wallow in the shaded underbelly of central Taipei. 

The River

Having heard from a French Danny Dyer doppelgänger that there was somewhere cool to visit called Pier 5 (Dadaocheng wharf), we headed there for sunset one evening. Leaving the MRT, we found our way to the water’s edge and were treated to an expansive view over the Tamsui river. The city on the other side slowly fell into shadow and the foothills of the forest covered mountains enclosed the scene. The sun was slowly setting behind the buildings, bathing everything in a soft warm hue. Naturally, being in East Asia, everyone was out for the photo opportunity and the river banks were an unruly tangle of human and tripod legs.

Pier 5 itself was really nice, with pleasant views and lots of food and drink vendors within cute container things. The problem for me was that it was impossible to get to any of them because it was incredibly busy. Not as in “oh it’s a bit of a hassle to get a bubble waffle” more like “every inch of my body below the neck is touching someone else and there’s nowhere to escape (or for me to reach the bubble waffle stand)”. The only saving grace was that my height allowed me to keep tabs on Brendan, so I knew he wouldn’t be suffocated by the indomitable human sea.

We eventually broke free of the whirlpool of limbs, leaving bodies in our wake but we didn’t look back and kept going down the riverside. We were both suspicious as to why it was so busy, French Danny Dyer hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort. But soon we had our answer. We stumbled into an enormous concert 100m further along the river bank and after the initial shock we joined the crowd. Turns out it was in celebration of Chinese Valentine’s day (Qixi festival) and Taipei was out in force. We stood there and enjoyed the songs that we didn’t know the words to but sang the sounds people were making with vigour. This wholehearted emersion in the festival spirit either gained us respect from the locals or attracted derision on account of our terribly pronounced words. We stayed until the end and were rewarded with the best fireworks display I’ve seen in my life. It was a dazzling display of colour and extravagance over the river that finished off the night perfectly. We let the surge of the crowd take us from the stage to the towering flood defences which this time were controlling the flow of hundreds of people rather than the river’s inundation. Finally, we reached the reinforced flood gates and people spilled out in every direction onto the streets of Taipei. 

Memorials

Chiang Kai-Shek

One of our first days in Taipei started at the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial. First, walking onto the huge Liberty square, we were struck by the beauty of the National Theatre and the National Concert Hall which almost mirrored each other across the square. Their style was intended to recall the palatial designs seen in areas of traditional Chinese architecture and their grandeur certainly left an impression on us. However, soon we found ourselves walking along the wide path, enclosed by perfectly manicured hedgerows, to the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall. Chiang Kai-Shek was a nationalist politician, a wartime military leader and a revolutionary. He served as the leader of Taiwan for almost five decades (1928 – 1975) and yet is seen as a controversial and divisive figure. He was firstly credited for unifying the nation, winning favour as he presided over periods of economic growth and social reforms, after acting as a key figure in the Allied military resistance against Japan in the Second World War. However, his government were also responsible for human rights abuses and deaths which are estimated between 6 and 18 million. This included the deliberate breaching of the Yellow River dam to halt the advance of the Japanese, which killed between 0.5 and 1.5 million Chinese peasants in mainland China. Furthermore, following the defeat of Japan and the establishment of a provincial government on the island, Chiang Kai-Shek led a party that killed hundreds of thousands in acts of political repression and enacted a 38-year long period of martial law (the second longest in history).

The bright white memorial stands at as an imposing symbol of remembrance over the square. With every step towards its enormous arched entrance, its potency as a symbol of both reverence and power grew. While we climbed the 89 steps (each for a year of his life) I really started to get a deeper understanding of the importance of sunglasses. Bright white marble buildings and unshielded eyes are about as little fun as a blog that talks about a man who killed millions of people in detail for a whole paragraph (I think this might be the longest I’ve ever talked about history before in my life, sorry.) Note to self: next time, buy sunglasses that don’t break so you don’t have to walk up 89 steps in public with your eyes closed and don’t prattle on about genocide. 

So, blind to Chiang Kai-Shek’s shady life and blind because my charred retinas were disintegrating, we entered the main hall. It was an impressive space dominated by a big statue, bringing in the crowds throughout the day to watch the changing of the guard. We stood there gazing up at the statue’s warm smile and then left. A quick look at the ground floor exhibitions turned into a methodical tour through the life of Chiang Kai-Shek. The only negative was that we had accidentally started our self-guided tour at his death. So, we spent a sunny afternoon watching a decrepit old man turn into a child while being scrutinised by everyone doing the museum the correct way. Actually no. Not the “correct way”. The way that society’s shepherds have guided you. Don’t be scared of the sheepdog, bop it on the snout and leg it to freedom.

Sun Yat-Sen

Conversely, at the end of the Taiwan trip, we made one final dash to a memorial almost by mistake. Meeting up with two like-minded, but woefully under-skilled table football players in James and Ross, we were planning on just getting some lunch. But the Sun Yat-Sen Memorial Hall (our meeting place) turned out to be a sumptuous day out. Sun Yat-Sen was the first president of the Republic of China and the predecessor of Chiang Kai-Shek. He is considered to be one of the greatest leaders of modern China and is revered both on the mainland and in Taiwan. 

We accidentally turned up in time to watch the changing of the guard which consisted of a group of men enthusiastically banging their guns on the ground and spinning them in their hands like their carnival marching band depended on it. The whole ordeal was impressive and yet surprisingly long-winded. Away from the main hall there was loads of artwork, with one piece spanning the length of a gallery, split between different frames. Maybe my favourite part of the memorial was the setting though. It was nestled in a square amongst well maintained gardens, with one of the best views of Taipei 101 we had seen in the city.

Daan & Ximen

Daan

We first went to the district of Daan when I looked at the map and saw that it was an area of the city that we hadn’t yet visited, but we ended up coming back for the atmosphere that the streets exuded. Daan is home to three major universities which, as with most places around the world, makes a place feel alive. However, the buzz of the district was a combination of the lively student influences and the relaxed residential influences. It felt wealthy but still down to earth and as we walked down the streets there was always a buzz of people. Expats, locals and students all mingled in the dimly lit parks, narrow residential streets and under the luminous signs of Zhongxiao road. 

On one trip to Daan we not only had a plan (to watch some live comedy at a craft beer bar) but we also had a lovely Liverpudlian called Ben in tow. We walked through the very pleasant Daan park and grabbed some food and a beer or two at the bar. Realising we had ages until the comedy started we went in search of a strawberry daiquiri for Brendan. Surviving the shear panic at the thought of not finding a strawberry daiquiri on this trip, I instilled some hope into him that once we left Central Asia and made it to the bright lights of Taipei, he would finally find that sweet red elixir. It turns out this may have been a mistake. Unable to find one anywhere and Brendan’s body limp with emotional desolation, Ben and I dragged him onwards and into a board game bar. We got drinks, played some unbelievably fun games and questioned whether we should go to the comedy or just get a little more drunk and play board games into the night. 

We came to our senses and traipsed back to the craft beer bar in time for the comedic proceedings. The stage was in the basement and because it was the comedy night in English, it was full of expats. We had a really good time there. We felt the glorious highs at the sight of an English comic getting the biggest laughs of the night and the toe curling lows when a roast battle finished off the evening with another English guy being obliterated by a very funny New Yorker.

Ximen

Finally proving to all the sceptics out there that Brendan and I aren’t just enormous moths parading around in human meat suits, we avoided the LCD allure of Ximen for the majority of our stay. Nevertheless, the Piccadilly Circus of Taipei was an interesting area to stroll around day or night. Brighter the lights more expensive the stuff is what ran through our minds on every walk through the packed streets of Ximen. However, one day we were looking at a beautiful red brick building that contrasted starkly to the modern intensity around the MRT station and a second later we were in a square filled with busy bars and good music. Whoops. So of course, being the absolute nightlife badgers that we are, we went back to the hostel and had nice relaxed night in. No, we actually did. We returned to the bar square on another evening and took in the atmosphere. Turns out we’d been blinded by the offers on drinks on the first time around that we hadn’t noticed that our number one spot for a drink in Taipei was in fact almost exclusively gay bars. We sat letting the rainbows that we’d somehow missed before, the friendliness and our ice-cold beverages soak into our very being. Glorious.

Elephant mountain

Our legs, trained in the high altitude proving grounds of the Tajik Pamirs. Our minds sharpened with every attempt to decipher restaurant order cards. Our clothing lacking in structural integrity and almost unwearable for reasons of personal hygiene. We were ready. 

Elephant mountain is famous for its view over the city and so we were trying to get up there to see the sun set and the lights come on. We knew from our experience in Panama City that watching day turn into night over a high-rise metropolis is one of the most spectacular sights you can see so we were excited. Taking the MRT to the far side of the city we hopped off and made our way up the seemingly endless set of steps to the top, very aware that we were running out of time. By the top, the volume of water pouring off my body was nauseating and the number of people at the top merely trying to take in the views without having to avoid a slathering soaking wet man was astonishing. Luckily, the wary members of the public thought that touching a large beared man, with blood shot eyes (from the sweat) and uncontrollable breathing was not a good idea on multiple fronts so they got out of my way while I recovered. The large rocks where we had stopped were absolutely packed and the view wasn’t amazing unless you were on top of the single rock that people were queuing for, so we continued up the path finding a much less crowded viewing platform in no time.   

After taking in the views of the magnificent Taipei 101 and the rest of the city we retreated back down the hill, and into the MRT which felt freezing cold with my soaked clothes. 

Final thoughts

Another long post that I still didn’t manage to cram everything into (the enormous flower market hidden beneath a highway flyover and the botanical gardens being two of the main bits).

However, for me, the best part of Taipei wasn’t the sights. The buildings aren’t particularly beautiful, unlike in many European cities such as Dubrovnik or Budapest, but the feeling we both got walking down the streets was an almost indescribable connection with the buzz of the city and its people. We felt welcomed and at home very quickly amongst the skyscrapers that always have the power to cast an austere shadow on life. For this reason, Taipei definitely takes its place amongst my favourite cities in the world.