Taiwan.

Time did not favour me when I landed in Taipei. Two large aeroplanes full of passengers, many from mainland China, arrived before my large – and full – flight. Passport control took the better part of an hour to clear, although the officer was very efficient with me. It seems as if Hong Kong citizens have a few extra things they have to do before they can be let through the Taiwanese border, mainland Chinese a few dozen things more – including having a fair amount of paperwork filled in and many forms ready for inspection. After 15 minutes waiting in queue the woman in front of me and I started to talk. She was from Australia and we had a few good laughs at the expense of the Kevin and Juliar Show as well as Mad Monk the Budgie Smuggler with his underwhelming show. Merkel, however, she took seriously and respected – albeit with more polish than the Macanese tour guide who referred to her as “the little fat woman in the suit”. We both concluded that the less said about the USA and its derangements and delusions the better.

I took the bus to the Taiwan high speed rail station, a cheap commuter coach which does not offer comfort, but for NT$30, 65p in proper currency, one could not complain. The Taiwanese bullet train to Kaohsiung cost NT$1,500 – £32. Clean and fast, the trip across the island went quickly, pleasantly. Not quite sure what to do, I took the Taiwan Regional Rail train to Kaohsiung Central Station, 500 metres from my hotel. After a near unpleasant experience, that is, nearly falling down the stairs I found the hotel quickly and was at first taken aback, but then contented. The hotel in Hong Kong was pleasant – on a higher level it had large windows which let in natural light. This hotel was somewhat different. The small window on the first floor did not open, and the only light that came in was from a wall. The bathroom was of the sort where the shower is not separated from the rest of the room. Still, it was clean, convenient – and cheap. Four nights there cost me a little more than a single night in Hong Kong. The staff, all young Taiwanese, were friendly and helpful – even if their English skills were limited and their German or Japanese skills even worse. The only really absurd thing was that they had a 22:00 curfew, when their evening clerk went home. Usually that would not bother me, but the friend I was travelling with in Kaohsiung – a woman born and raised in the city whom I studied with in Hawai’i – had to work during the day. Kaohsiung is also still quite hot, between 30-32 degrees with high humidity.

On the first full day in Kaohsiung I went to the old British Consulate which is also the oldest Western-style building on Taiwan. Built in 1879 as a result of an agreement with the Qing authorities, it was a combination of a diplomatic office, residence and customs house near the Taiwan Straits. Built mostly of red brick on a steep hill, it’s a beautiful sight – and the view is spectacular. To one side is Kaohsiung, to the other the Taiwan Strait. The region is lush and verdant. The hills and mountains are green. At times it feels like walking through jade. The cost of entrance was again NT$30, 65p. The ticket included a coupon for NT$30 off any purchase at the store or café. In short, it was free to enter and well worth the effort. After spending just over an hour there, it is rather on the small side, I travelled to the Formosa Street MRT Station which is said to be among the world’s most beautiful underground stations based on its stained-class dome. It was quite lovely, although the post-modern motifs left a bit to be desired, but for a post-modern station it is still quite nice.

That afternoon I met my friend to go to the cinema to watch the film “Nowhere” by Wu Yue Tian, my favourite band and one of her favourites. Neither one of us expected it to be quite as good as it was – after two hours we were amazed, we were awed and inspired. Afterwards we went shopping for music, well, I did and she came along to ensure that I did not get lost. A fan of Taiwanese Mandopop it was a joyous occasion to shop for music there.

The next day I went to the old Ciaotou Sugar Factory, a compound with structures dating from the Japanese Colonial Era to the 1950s as well as one of the better-preserved old neighbourhoods in southern Taiwan. The factory was open and visitors could walk through to see what went into making sugar. There were no guides and few signs, but everything was there and the names of the machines were labelled. Because of the relative age of the area, there were a number of bomb shelters remaining. Taiwan has few truly old structures. Until the early 20^th century Taiwanese aborigines controlled 90pc of the island and their simple huts were not designed to withstand the heat and humidity. The sliver of the island, the Western Plains, which the Manchu Qing did control, was undeveloped. Infrastructure was almost non-existent. Tainan, the old capital, is one of the few places on the island with significant older architecture. As a result, many of Taiwan’s most interesting buildings were built under Japanese rule – when the island was developed, when the island was brought into modernity. In contrast to the bitterness and acrimony of colonial Korea, colonial Taiwan was an unqualified success and the Taiwanese remain fond, almost to the man, of Japan. The Taiwanese often feel closer to Japan than China, and most Taiwanese would rather be a prefecture of Japan than a province of China. The buildings in this area were beautiful. The club houses were based on Dutch colonial architecture with a few Japanese influences, most notably the roofs. The climate in southern Taiwan is similar to that of Indonesia and the economy was similar – cash crops. The older houses, still inhabited, are small but aesthetically pleasant. Based on my contempt for the word, I will refrain from using “quaint”. The company dorm was strictly built in the Japanese style with materials suitable for the climate – stone and glass instead of wood and paper. In part, the purpose of the area was to show that while life was simpler, it was also very poor.

I planned to go to Tainan, but decided at the last minute against it. I slept too late and got going even later. There would not have been enough time, so I went to Lotus Pond in the Zuoying area, northern Kaohsiung. It’s a cultural area with a lot of late-imperial-style architecture. One of the compounds, and in traditional East Asian architecture, they were almost always compounds rather than a single building, is the Confucian Temple which was first constructed in the 1680s. Closed for work, what could be seen was still interesting and the other buildings in the area were also interesting. Following the Nationalist (KMT) occupation of Taiwan post-1945, Chiang Kai-shek brought the best of China with him to Taiwan. Whereas Mao tore China apart socially, culturally to the extent that China is no longer even Chinese, Chiang forced Taiwan to undergo a Chinese cultural renaissance. Chiang loathed Taiwan and he had little use for the Taiwanese – mostly Han Chinese, the dominant ethnic group on the mainland as well, who nearly became Japanese – willingly and eagerly. Many argue that if one more generation had grown up under Japanese rule, Taiwan would have become just another Okinawa – an integral part of Japan with a distinct flavour. The most bitter thing for Chiang was that the Taiwanese, had the Americans given them the choice, would have chosen to remain under Japan. But the Americans knew what the Taiwanese wanted better than the Taiwanese did themselves and they gave them to Chiang as a favour. So many buildings in Taiwan reflect Chiang’s quest for China. This park was part of it; the region around the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall in Taipei is another. It is based on the Forbidden City in Beijing.

I bought a large bottle of water and some fruit from Taiwanese aborigine women – grumpy, but helpful along with a grilled sausage. I ate them while sitting in a pagoda by the pond reading a book. The only other person in the building was a man taking a nap. On occasion I went out to watch to young turtles swimming about and clambering over the rocks on the shore.

My final night in southern Taiwan went quietly. My friend and I met again and she took me to her favourite night market. I ate stinky tofu, Okinawa-style fried chicken and chocolate-filled Taiwanese cakes. We bid our adieux on the Ai River strand, one of Kaohsiung’s most beautiful places. The lights were glittering on either side of the river, the lit bridges glimmering in the distance. She left to visit her grandmother, over 90 years old and increasingly only able to speak Japanese and Taiwanese, mostly only Taiwanese. With less than half an hour to closing time, I took a taxi to the main train station. The driver, an old man who had lived in Bavaria for two years, insisted on practising his German with me – and made the mistake of thinking that I, by virtue of speaking High German, was from northern Germany. He escaped with only a few minor lesions.

I am writing this from Taipei, the Taiwanese capital. This morning went quickly. I bought a few extra post cards and stamps. I bought coffee and bottled water for the train from Family Mart, a relatively civilised convenience store chain in East Asia. The clerk was my favourite – a young man who looked like a combination of a rabbit and teddy bear with a friendly, quiet personality. My hotel was easy to find and the bus to the airport runs from across the street. Perhaps it is the lack of time, but I couldn’t be bothered to do much here. I came only because my flights are through Taipei. This is the last Chinese city, Shanghai’s cuckoo in the Japanese-Taiwanese nest. Glittering, but out of place – in southern Taiwan, one is in Taiwan with its good and bad. Here, one feels as if the last glittery remnants of a distant place and time are shining brightly. Tomorrow afternoon I will leave for the final part of my holiday, Japan.

Author: Christopher-Dorset

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