Sunday, August 31, 2008

Landscapes of the Northeast Coast

This posting is a culmi- nation of almost a month in the making. After visiting Yelio and Chinshan, I was absolutely captivated by the North and Northeast Coasts of Taiwan. I knew I had to return, but to explore them would take months by public transportation. I decided it was time to get out little red.

For some reason, I have neglected to introduce this important aspect of my life for almost a year now. Last fall, I bought a motorcycle. It's a hot red, two-stroke 135 CC sports bike and it draws attention. I'll admit I was scared out of my wits for the first three months I had it, and rarely drove it. However, I started to master the back alleys, and before you knew it, I was out on the road. I hated the city driving and stuck solely to the mountain roads. (But now that I am living back in the downtown area, I am certainly whizzing about in speedy traffic like a suicidal maniac, a common driving practice in Taipei.)


So, I hopped on "Shiao Hong", or "Little Red" and took her out to the coast. First I zipped up past Wanli and Chinshan to check out Shimen Arch. A stone wall that had an enormous hole blasted through its center by the sea stands majestically against the coast line.


After that, I decided it was time for some good old fashioned lying on the beach. I had lots of time to kill, so I headed over to Baishanwan for some sun soaking and swimming. Located at the northern most point of Taiwan, this is a relatively clean beach that saw a good crowd for a Sunday afternoon. It also shattered my notion that Fulong was the only decent beach around Taipei.


On the other side of Keelung lies more extravagent treasures along the Northeast Coast including Jeofen, Fan Tz Ao, the Peculiar Rocks of Nanya, and the ever impressive cliffs of Bitou. Enjoy these remarkable snapshots.

Pan Tz Ao Rock Formations

Cliffs of Bitou

Peculiar Rocks of Nanya

Cliffs of Bitou

The Northeast Coast

From your Taiwan resident landscape photographer, Michael.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

The Third Apartment

Once I started my new job, I decided it was time to upgrade the old abode. Sure, I was living in a nice place, but the magic of living in your own "studio apartment" was starting to wear off. I needed a place that could accommodate my needs for a living room, bed room, kitchen, and an office. I also didn't want to pay more than US$400 a month. Even in Taipei, that's a little unrealistic (unless you want to settle for asbestos and rats).

My first inclination was to head for the mountains. I was never really a city boy, so I thought perhaps the greenery would satisfy my need to look at pretty things. I looked at a few places, but in the end, I decided the location was just too inconvenient. Right, I know what your thinking- how can a place be too inconvenient when you don't even have a commute? Well, I still wanted to be near friends, close to my Mandarin classes, and just a hop away from the gym. (I am a firm believer that the workout should never start until you actually arrive at the gym and get on a machine. Apparently, the Taiwanese also agree with me because they installed escalators in the gym!)


When it seemed hopeless, I came across an ad online for a 15 ping apartment (they say one ping is the size of a Tatami Mat, like I know how big a Tatami Mat is!) smack dab in the middle of the city. Five minutes from both the gym and my Chinese classes. I called up the landlord and scheduled a viewing. The apartment was a King's Palace being sold at a beggar's price! Being no fool (and being sick of the apartment search for the third time) I quickly snatched it up.

I am on the top floor of a thirteen floor apartment building in the heart of the downtown area. The buildings around me are not so large, so I have a great view of the city and the mountains to the South of the city (home of the famous MaoKong Tea Gardens). I can enjoy this view on my enormous patio that extends all around my apartment on two sides. The kitchen is actually on the balcony (anyone say alfresco dining tonight), meaning I don't have to worry about stir-fry smells lingering in my apartment after I am done cooking.

Here is the view I am afforded each day!


The apartment is quite spacious. The main room has been divided into both my living room and my office. There are two large sliding screen doors that, when opened, provide an amazing and cheap form of natural air conditioning! And what's more, even, I have my trusty old parrot friend to keep me company.

From your friend that's living the high life, literally, (thirteen floors is pretty high in Taipei, except for 101), Michael.

Friday, August 22, 2008

Polly and his Cracker

Working from home has its benefits: an easy commute, modern conven- iences all around, and no obnoxious co-workers that irritate the blazes out of you. But, on the other hand, there are some drawbacks. That couch in the living room sure looks inviting! Or, maybe an extra thirty minutes for lunch on my balcony to enjoy the sunshine. But the hardest thing about working from home, and living alone, is having no one around, even your obnoxious co-worker.

One day, I was browsing the local ads online to help me furnish my new apartment. Under the General Merchandise section, I came across a parrot for sale. I recalled fondly of my pet bird when I was a youngster (that met its tragic and untimely end to our family dog), and clicked with a thrill on the ad's link. I read about the bird, which happened to be a delightful Sun Conure with a cheery disposition and a penchant for attention. I was even more elated to discover that the parrot was being sold by a friend of mine.

I sent my friend an e-mail and told her that if she couldn't find someone to take her parrot, I would be more than happy to adopt it. After all, I was home all day so her parrot would indeed have company! Through many fortunate turns of events, the parrot eventually came to live with me, thus ending my loneliness.


Zeke, the parrot, is a delightful and brilliant edition to my life. His colors are as bright as his charming personality. He is a Sun Conure, one of the friendliest of all parrots, and he loves attention. This is good, because when I am home and taking a break for lunch, Zeke comes right out of his cage and plays with me. He adores me, and when he is placed on the floor, he scrambles right back over to me and climbs on my head, shoulder, arm, shirt, pants; you name it, he's there.


He's also on a never ending quest to rip my fingernail off my finger, though.

Zeke is a clever bird as well- he can already do a host of tricks like wave his hand, nod his head, do a magic card trick, and turn around. However, the best trick of all is that Zeke can actually put money into a piggy bank!

Needless to say, Zeke is the center of my life right now. I can't leave my apartment without wondering if he will be ok while I'm gone. I love Zeke, and Zeke loves me. From your newly incarnated bird owner, and happy home worker, Michael.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

The Crazy Lady Returns!

Do I have a sign on my forehead? No, seriously. Do I have a sign on my head that invites crazy women to talk to me? I am repeatedly finding myself in situations to support this very absurd hypothesis!

The most recent event occurred only yesterday when I was peacefully resting at home, catching up on some work. I was responding to some e-mails when I heard the tapping of light feet pacing outside on my balcony. My apartment is situated that anyone can freely come onto my balcony, but the only reason they would ever do so was either to visit me or because they were lost. This middle-aged visitor's purpose was entirely different!

Just recently I acquired a new friend, who will be formally introduced in a subsequent post, and sometimes this friend can make a bit of noise. So as this woman came snooping about, I automatically assumed that she was coming to complain about the constant ruckus. As such, I decided to be extra polite and inquired if I may help her.

As soon as I offered this friendly bit of hospitality, she took it to the next level and invited herself in. Strange, but certainly I have seen stranger in Taiwan. She then sat down on my couch and started talking in broken English.

"Who are you?" "Where are you from?" The questions began rather innocently, and I was happy to oblige. Once I realized she was just stopping by to say hello, I brought my friend out and showed her some tricks. My friend immediately did not like her, and perhaps I should have bode that ominous warning. We continued to chat, and I noticed there was something strange about her- as if she were legitimately crazy. When she decided to give me her phone number, she gave me one that was entirely made up (meaning it didn't have a sufficient number of digits!)

The questioning began to get a little strange. After she asked me if I liked movies, she politely informed me that I looked like Tom Cruise. Better have been top gun Tom Cruise and not MI3 Tom Cruise! Either way, she then invited me to go to the movies with her, provided that I buy her tickets. The audacity! I told her I was very busy and had to do some work. She asked if she could wait on my couch, and still sensing no real harm, I allowed her to wait it out.

As I was typing at my computer, she asked me when Dan was getting home. I told her that Dan didn't live here anymore- now it was only me. She then got visibly upset and told me that she loved Dan and would never love another man (surprising after she just asked me on a date five minutes earlier). I asked where Dan was, and she said he was in America with his wife. (Probably avoiding her, I thought.)

She then picked up her stuff and said she had to leave. I said goodbye to her and that was that, or so I thought. Five minutes late she comes back and gives me a picture of Dan and asks me to keep it and tear it up. Awkwardly, I said that I wouldn't take the picture and that she should keep it. Reluctantly, she took it back. I returned to my computer, and without a second thought for social acceptablility, she followed me into my home and handed me a romance novel, saying I could keep it. I thanked her for the generosity, but informed her that I could not read Chinese. She then offered me lessons, to which I politely denied. I did, however, keep the book.

Now she was starting to take me away from my work and thus I had to ask her to leave. She said ok. And as I turned to my e-mails, I sensed that she was not budging. I turned around and now she had the nerve to peruse through my refrigerator, and returned with the comment, "Why haven't you offered me something to drink?"

Well, my little southern bell, maybe it has something to do with the fact that you are really starting to irritate me. I stood up, and firmly asked her to close the door. At this point, I told her I was now going to escort her down to the security guards on the ground floor.

On the way down, she told me she had Dan's baby in her belly. I told her I thought that was nice.

Downstairs, I dropped her off with the security guards and returned upstairs to finally get some work done. I worked for about another hour before I heard the light pitter patter again on my balcony and her image scurrying about. At this point, I had to go meet a friend, so I shut down my computer, locked up the door, and walked out side to find her waiting for me. She told me she cooked some noodles and she wanted me to join her. I told I couldn't because I was meeting a friend. She pleaded with me, but there was no way I could stay. I then started to walk away before she announced that she was going to join me! That was unacceptable, but she was determined.

She walked to the apartment next to mine to grab her things and I asked if she lived in this apartment. She said yes. I asked her if we could go inside. She looked at me and told me she couldn't understand (although she could understand- she didn't want to get caught lying that she didn't live in the apartment next to me.) After wasting time trying to prove that she didn't live next to me, I escorted her again in the elevator down to the guards.

During the ride, I asked where she was going. She told me she was going to her mother's and father's house. I asked her if she knew which bus to take. She said she did, and she went fishing in her purse to locate the number. While she was digging around, we arrived at the ground floor again and I asked the guards to take care of this woman. Of course, she was not there- she had completely vanished. We went back to the elevator, opened the door, and there she was, naively still searching her bag for the bus number.

The guard became very upset with her and started to scold her. He then took her back to the people she was with and I took off to meet my friend. But the story does not end here.

When I returned home that night, my table on the balcony, had a dinner of noodles set for two. Although the crazy lady was nowhere to be seen, the scenario had the hallmark signs to a very creepy horror story. Let's hope this one doesn't have a sequel.

From your absurdly annoyed, understandably paranoid, crazy-lady magnet, Michael.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

She is Hong Kong

I live in Taipei, Taiwan. I take weekend trips to Hong Kong. Why? Well, in the words of George Mallory, because it's there.

I left midday on Saturday and after only one hour, I arrived at Hong Kong International Airport. The landscape outside the airport appeared to be quite similar to Taiwan: rolling mountains dropping off into dramatic seas. Even the interior of the airport seemed the same: Chinese and English signs everywhere. As far as I could tell, the plane just flew in a big circle and I was still hopping along in Taiwan.

The big difference came when it was time for me to leave the airport and go to the city. In Taiwan, you have to go to the local ticket counter and buy a bus ticket. Then, after about a half hour if your lucky, a broken down bus will come puttering along to take you from the airport/cow pasture. (I'm not joking: Taiwan's airport is essentially a glorified field.) Hong Kong, however, has an airport express. As soon as you leave customs, there is an enormous sign that reads "To the City". At the most, it's a twelve minute wait for the express train and once it departs, you know it will only be a measly 24 minutes before your hobnobbing with Hong Kong celebrities.


The airport express dropped me off in the central part of Hong Kong. For those that don't know the city well, the residents have thought well in advance. The central part of Hong Kong is called "Central". An apt name if I've ever come across one.

My first journey this fine Saturday evening was up the Peak Tram. There was still about two hours of daylight, which would give me enough time to get to the top of Victoria peak to see the city line doused under a blue sky. Hong Kong, I have heard, is lucky if it gets one or two clear days a month. I had no intention of wasting the opportunity to see it in its splendor. What I didn't count on was that the rest of Hong Kong, all seven million of them it seemed, wanted to get to the top of the Peak as well for a romantic or eventful Saturday night out. Suffice to say, I didn't make it to the top until well after nightfall. I wish not to recount the hours I waited in line, stuffed hopelessly like a locked sardine, succumbed to oppressive heat and drenching humidity. Instead, just take my word for it that the wait was interminable.

The peak's view, however, made up for the protracted test of patience. A clear evening, a sparkling cityscape, and a lightning storm brewing in the distance made for one hell of a light show. Standing there, on the sky terrace, looking out over the enchanted Hong Kong city below, gave me a sense of self-godliness, or at the very least, a child watching over the model town he just created out of legos. Sometimes it felt like you could reach out and rearrange the buildings as you saw fit. Other times, they looked as if they were ready to extend straight up to the top of the peak and poke you in the eye. Whatever the emotion, or the illusion, it was a dazzling, dizzying effect.


With a buzz and vibe in my step, I made my way back down to the tram to return home. However, the line back down the mountain was even more horrendous than the wait to get up. There was absolutely no way I was going to wait two hours just to go back down the mountain. I found the local taxi stand and bit the bullet. A US$10 taxi fare got me down to the base of the mountain, over to Wan Chai (the district just East of Central) where I was hoping to spend the night.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am now a Rough Guide convert. I used to be Lonely Planet, but the readability and the interesting facts accompanied by the Rough Guide books have won my heart. And the Hong Kong rough guide book recommended I stay at a guest house called the "Clean Hostel". Living up to its name, the place was clean. However, to get to it, one had to make their way down a labyrinth of concrete corridors amid shadier other guest houses. The hostel was nothing to write home about, but in reality, I wasn't going to be spending much time there. It was clean, had a shower, and a comfortable bed: the hallmarks of a successful guest house. I showered, got ready and went out to experience Hong Kong's nightlife and all its associated passions.

The following morning presented me with a full day of sightseeing Hong Kong's well known, and lesser known, treasures. A short walk from my hotel to the Happy Valley race course, and a bit further, got me to my first dim sum experience. It was not difficult finding the restaurant, as it was indeed called "Dim Sum." Caters to the tourists, this city does! But for what was lacking in creativity, the folks made up for in deliciousness. They really knew how to serve the dim sum right.


I ordered two dishes and a pot of piping hot, floral Jasmine tea. The first portion of my dim sum to arrive was a crispy, fresh spring roll filled with taro, tofu, and vegetables. The skin was incredible scrumptious, like biting into a savory, crunch waffle cone encasing fresh, sweet vegetables. Then came my second course of dim sum: some masterfully prepared shark fin dumplings. The dumplings had a heavy, oily taste to them, but the meat was succulent and juicy. Reminiscent of shiao long bao, the juices seemed to squirt in all directions as my mouth engulfed this delicately shaped, and perfectly constructed culinary masterpiece.


With the last sips of my tea drink drunk down, and my dim sum digesting deep in the dungeon of my duodenum, I decided it was time to return again to the Peak for a view of Hong Kong once again, but this time under the blue sky I had originally hoped for. To get to the cable car that takes one up to the top, I decided it was time to try out one of the tram cars that bustle about. The trams are these old, rickety double decker trolleys that zoom about Hong Kong and will take you along for only HK$2.00 a ride. Not a bad deal, and certainly an easy way to get over to the cable car. I climbed up to the second floor and got a ride almost equivalent to the cable car ride up.


Once I arrived at the cable car, the line was dramatically smaller than it was the evening before. With a sigh of happiness, I got in line and waited for my ticket to ride up this city's most famous attraction. The ride is frighteningly angled at 27 degrees. It takes you along a 1.4 kilometer ride up 400 meters above sea level. It's amazing to see buildings jutting out at impossible angles, disorienting you during the ride.



Before long, the car extends beyond the tree line and you are presented with the first decent and breathtaking view of Hong Kong.


After taking in the view, and with little time to spare, I descended back down the peak and over to the Star Ferry pier for what could very well be considered Hong Kong's second most famed attraction. The star ferry shuttles people across Victoria Harbor all day long providing stunning views of Central's sky line. After only about ten or fifteen minutes, the ferry drops you off at the other side of the Harbor in the section of town called Kowloon.


The city had many exciting, little attractions on this side of the harbor including the satellite Olympic village, the old clock tower from years past, and enough tailored suits to dress a ballroom fit for a king. I hopped on the local KCR line and buzzed up past Monkok to a little section known for a lot of little things: the Ten Thousand Buddhas Temple.


The temple closed at 5:00, and by the time I had arrived, it was 4:45. That gave me exactly fifteen minutes to hurriedly rush up 400 steps to the top of the temple. The heart-attack pace would have been intolerable had it not been for the countless life-sized Buddhas lining the climb, each with their own unique, iconic poses, gestures, and facial expressions. When I arrived at the top, I was surprised to discover that the name of the temple was in fact a misnomer: indeed there were actually thirteen thousand miniature Buddhas lining the temple walls. To appreciate just how grand this number is, take a look at the following video.



The temple itself was nothing impressive, but the sheer number of Buddhas is enough to force one's mouth to hang open. From ceiling to floor, corner to corner, there are thirteen thousand Buddhas clinging to massive shelves, each carved with their own intricate individuality. Such patients and diligence humbled me, who, only twenty-four hours prior was cursing his fate to have to wait two hours to get onto a cable car. It's striking how, when put into perspective, your problems appear to be so insignificant.


I hopped back down, paying particular attention to the life-sized statues, searching for what I considered to be the best one. I think I found it. Do you agree?


I climbed back on board the KCR and made my way back to Mongkok, a part of Kowloon. I first took a stroll through the flower market and breathed in the light, floral odors that make us fall in love with Aprils and Mays. Then, crossing the street, is the bird's market where old men come with their caged song birds to sing in the park. All majesties fly around in their cages that were built for them right at the Market. The cool breeze bringing in the scent of the flowers, mixed caringly with the setting sun and the song of birds put my heart at a most pleasant ease.


After the sun finally went down, I strolled down the main drag of Mongkok to reach the Temple night market for some evening snacks and an overpriced foot massage before I made my way back into the city for some evening strolls around Hong Kong's awesome, nighttime light shows.


My flight was in the afternoon the next day, but I didn't really have much to see. At 11:15, I met up with one of my college buddies, Topher, who is working for Deutsche Bank in Hong Kong and his friend from Vietnam. We met at Maxime's Palace, a world renowned dim sum restaurant catering to the high and mighty of Hong Kong.


Arriving early, we got a seat overlooking the harbor, and the land reclamation project currently filling in part of the harbor, and set in for a second and even more delicious dim sum brunch. To even understand just how wonderful this brunch was, take all the descriptions I gave of the first dim sum restaurant and multiply it by ten for this one. Maxime's Palace is the place to go for dim sum (not to mention it is one of only two restaurants in the world that actually take their dim sums around on a trolley and you choose what you want by pointing.)


I saw Topher off at his very large building, partook in Hong Kong's favorite sport- shopping- went to the peak for one last exhilarating view and hike around the top, and before I knew it, was was back on a plane whizzing back to Taiwan from my impromptu and remarkable weekend to Hong Kong.

From your weekend tripper to Hong Kong, Michael.