Cow Tipping in the Grasslands

Last Sunday, I took five of my friends on a gentle (some may argue this point) stroll up to Yang- mingshan National Park just north of Taipei. The beginning of the hike traced the Tienmu trail I described in my post "The Stairway to Hell Valley". Yet for some reason, I still managed to miss this stunning view of Taipei 101 on my first ascent up the 1,400 stairs to the land of monkeys.

However, instead of taking a bus down from the Yangmingshan Bus Depot this time, we took a minibus up to the National Park and onto the back side of the mountain. We got off at the waterfall trail- one which was, of course, not devoid of more startling and strenuous stairs- and made our way to a precious little waterfall. The likes of which do not compare with Wulai, but it nevertheless had it's own enchanting qualities.

Once past the waterfall, it was a straight shoot up to Yang- mingshan Grass- lands, and one of the most stunning views offered around Taipei. This area of Yangmingshan is the highest point on the Jinbaoli, or Fisherman's trail, that stretches all the way from Jinshan to Shilin. It was a popular place to rest during long trips in the Qing Dynasty and was also the same time that the God of Earth was moved her from the tea fields. It has rested here for more than 200 years. Let these panoramic shots stand for themselves! Be sure to click to enlarge...



In addition to it's commanding scenery, the Grasslands were also used as a popular location for herding wild cattle. Today, surprisingly enough, wild cattle still roam this heavily populated tourist attraction. While we didn't see any cattle that day, there were plenty of cow pies around to remind us who were the real owners of the grassland. One sign read "Attention: you are located at Yangmingshan ranch now. The incident of cattle attacks have happened before. The security fence is for your own safety and to avoid over trampling on the Grassland, you are not allowed to cross over the fence." Security fence? What security fence? Oh, do they mean this two foot high piece of rope not strong enough to stop a rollaway baby carriage let alone a wild charging bull? RUN KIDS!!! RUN!!!! YOU'RE NOT IN THE SECURITY ZONE YET!!!! RUUUUN!!!!


At the end of the day, we relax and went to the secret hot springs. For about US $15, we got full spa treatment in the hots springs and an enormous gourmet feast including fried rice, fried noodles, two servings of sashimi on ice, a beef sizziling iron plate and a tofu sizzling iron plate, in addition to orange juice, coconut juice, mango smoothies, and Taiwan beer- a necessity after any hot spring excursion.


In the end, the day was a major success. People arrived on time, and despite seeing no monkeys, everyone was simply just glad to be outside and being active.

So until next time, you cow tipping friend of Taiwan, Michael.

Nature's Doll House

With the finest day of weather so far this year- not too hot, not too cold, not too dry, not to humid, in a word: perfect- I took off for a day of trekking down to Wulai and Doll Valley. This was to be my second visit to Wulai, so I already knew my surroundings slightly better.

Wulai is located about twenty to thirty minutes south of Xindian Station, at the southernmost tip of Taipei. It's hard to believe that no more than a hundred years ago, this quiet spot was considered wilderness and home to adventurers and aboriginal tribes. A bit on the aboriginies here- still inhabited by the Tai Ya Tribe, Wulai is a termed used by them meaning "hot springs". From this, I am sure you can guess what Wulai is therefore world renowned for. Although Wulai is popular for its first class hot springs, and its vast cultural exhibits and shows on the Tai Ya Tribe, I ventured into this town for other reasons.


Pulling into the bus depot at the entrance to Wulai, the first thing to grab your attention is hundreds of pipes and hoses running down the side of the gorge and dangling precariously over the river below. These pipes are funneling the hot water from the mountain's hot springs into the various hotels and resorts on the other side of the river along the old street.


The old street has many delicious, and overpriced, foods and delicacies awaiting the eager day traveler. Wulai is overrun with tourists and visitors from Taipei during the weekends, but on this Monday afternoon, it was like I had perfection all to myself. I could choose from peppered spices to garlic Taiwanese sausages. Muaji is another delicious concoction served very well in Wulai's Old Street. This Taiwanese snack originates from Haulien, in the central part of Taipei, and is made from blended and pureed sticky rice. You then have the option of putting peanuts, spices, or as I chose, sweet cream on the treat. The result is a very sweet, and very newly flavored item, tapping your taste buds.


I crossed the river via the Old Street and continued my journey upstream. On my way, alone, up lover's path, I came across the old train that carries tourists from the Old Street to the ever popular Wulai Waterfall. A word on pronunciation here- to say "waterfall" in Chinese, one must stress in the fourth tone, with is a very sharp and forceful tone, "Pu Bu." Naturally, when I first told people I saw the "Wulai PuBu" ,I told them I saw the "Wulai Poo Poo". Big difference.


The Wulai PuBu is a magnificent specimen of a waterfall. At 80 meters high, it plummets majestically into the foaming river below like a silver ribbon dangling against the hunter green
conifers lining the gorge side. The waterfall is best viewed from the viewing platform directly in front of the waterfall, or slightly to the right.


Above the waterfall are Alpine Cable Cars, the only pair in Northern Taiwan, that take you to the top of the waterfall. The view is impressive, but more importantly, I was excited by what was behind the waterfall. After climbing up countless flights of stairs, you come across an old amusement part- Cloud Fairy Garden. This place is the epitome of former glory. What was once the location of a Disney-esque park, located in the high mountains of aboriginal territory is now, sadly, falling back to the chaos and disorder of nature. To put it bluntly- the most interesting thing to do at this amusement park was archery.



After the Wulai PuBu, I continued on along the gorge. Until 1994, admittance into the Wulai territory after this point required a permit. This old police checkpoint serves as a reminder of stricter past times. Today, one only requires a car, motorcycles, or in my case- two strong legs and plenty of time.


After passing a small tunnel, the gorge becomes surreal. It's as almost if the tunnel connects two vastly different worlds- a land designed to accommodate tourists, and a land reserved for dreamers with a larger vision. The river cuts deeply into the ground leaving immense hills and towering mountains dwarfing your diminishing sense of self. Birds of prey circle above- a sometimes unwelcome presence for a lone traveler under the hot sun.


Eventually, a pedestrian suspension bridge comes into view, taking away cars and modern conveniences and giving the trekker the sublimity of nature. The path has drastic waterfalls and trickling streams rushing across is at various points. To the right is a concrete wall protecting walkers from falling mercilessly to the rushing valley below. At one point, however, the stone wall opens up and a steep, barely visible pathway opens up taking visitors to the sparking blue bathing pools of the river below.


At the end of the trail, I arrived at a small, secluded village called Hsin Hsian. No larger than a few homes and a small Elementary school, this village is the guardian of the Nei Tung Forest Park. A surprisingly expensive entrance fee of NT$65 provides you with admittance to the park. Once in, you eyes are delighted by some of the more impressive waterfalls one can see in northern Taiwan. The first of which is Wu Hsia Waterfall- but being across the river and crowded by hanging trees, there isn't much eye candy to behold. But, if we learned anything from Jaws, you never show the shark in the first reel.


The greatest waterfall in my opinion came at the end of the hike in Doll Valley. Although it isn't as high or as convenient as Wulai PuBu, I think the crystal blue pools into which the three tiered waterfall cascades into sets one up for one of the most charming and delightful spectacles along the walk. The waterfalls are so magnificent, and the location so charming, it's common to think you're not in Taiwan, but rather, deep exploring the inner jungles as a famed explorer!


With the sun beginning to set, and six kilometers of walking ahead of me, I knew I had to begin to turn back. On my return, I was presented with the walk I had just completed, but this time, from a reversed perspective. New images and scenery were laid before me and spectacles I missed the first time around came into view. The most obvious was this one of the damn. Situated within the forest, this damn delivers water five kilometers underground to a power station back in Wulai. But this modern marvel placed in the middle of rural Taiwan is, of course, photo worthy.


The walk back was calm and peaceful. The train had stopped running. The Alpine Cable Cars suspended their operations for the day. I even half expected somebody to turn the faucet, thus turning off the Wulai PuBu. Back at Wulai, the things were still bustling about. Shops were opening up for dinner, families were meeting for their evening dip in the public hot springs, and I ran into two very sweet and charming girls from Hong Kong that I had met up at Doll Valley. I introduced them to the famous Muaji and they were delighted. We then parted, and I made my way for a quick lunch, bamboo rice, before making my way home.


From your Waterfall/Fecal matter day tripper, Michael.

2,000 Visitors

Although it took a little bit longer to reach this milestone, we finally hit 200 visitors since I started keeping track on July 19th. The statistics are much different than the first 1k we saw roll around to taiwanablog. The following data includes information back to November 6th, 2007.

Again, our most loyal city to visit this site was Taipei counting in at 150 hits. But Taiwan as a whole, at 341, was no match for the United States clocking in at 642 visitors. From the United States, we got hits from: Massachusetts (430), New York (115), Pennsylvania, Connecticut, Michigan, Florida, New Hampshire, Hawaii, and New Jersey.

Taiwan- Taipei (150), San-Chung (117), Neihu, Taoyuan, Hsin Chu, Chungli, Hsin Tien, Ilan, Taichung.

United Kingdom- Potters Bar, Wembley, Glasgow, Kirkintilock.

France- Paris, Beauvais, Meylan.

Philippines- Legazpi, Cebu, Batangas.

Japan- Tokyo, Mastuyama.

Malaysia- Ipoh, Kuala Lumpur.

Singapore

Germany- Munich.

Together, the 1,007 visitors since November 6th have looked at 1,522 pages. Of the 1,007 visits, 163 are absolutely unique visitors. The most popular browser used was internet explorer.

573 hits were direct hits- meaning you typed taiwanablog.blogspot.com into the bar. Facebook sent 221 visitors, google put 87 here, blogger at 78, yahoo at 42, and sporadic referrals from aol.com, google.com/referral, fakesteve.blogspot.com, and aol webmail.

Again, google sent along some interesting keyword searches when finding my blog. The most popular, of course, was taiwanablog. Then of course tiawanablog.blogspot.com. After that, "banana boat" ride "fell off" dangerous, "thank you mom" + blogspot, bicoladventure, hiking mt mayon knife edge, hot spring, mayon volcano, philippines celebrity, taipei, taipei mrt, taiwan- food, taroko volcano site: blogspot.com, and "walking trails in neihu."

The longest anyone spent on the site was 47:40. The total visits, since July 19th, 2007, is exactly 2,008.

Thanks for visiting and come again!

Mother's Day

Mother's day began at 8:30. My friend picked me up in her car, and I went with her to visit her mother in Keelung- a town about 20 minutes north of Taipei. We arrived in the fresh mountain air to a temple looking out over the vast Taiwanese landscape. I waited with my friend as she brought her fruit to the altar, as a gift to the gods. We sat down quietly in the temple and chatted about nonsense- sharing riddles, talking about religion, and remembering her mother.

Once the ceremony was finished, we walked outside and burned gold and silver money as further offerings. She waited until the end to place a lovely mother's day card, with a sweet rose attached to the envelope, gently in the stove. We watched as her card turned to ash and was delivered to her mother in a solemn and tender manner.

We then looked over the vast, expanding mountains- her mother loved the mountains- as the sun was shining light over the entire earth. We all thought about our memories and our mothers. A wind came in and the weather turned unexpectedly cold. Ash from the stove was swirling and blowing around us- a snowstorm of burnt love letters, photographs, and mother's day card floating, assuredly, up into heaven.

We got back in the car, shared one last view with her mom, and drove home.

The Stairway to Hell Valley

Now that the weather's changing, for the better naturally, I have decided to incor- porate as many hikes into the weekends as I possibly can. Today marked the start of these Taipei Tours. In the coming weeks, I will be inviting my friends out to join me on a hike up in Tienmu, and since we may possibly have a large number coming with us, I decided to head out beforehand and scope out the scenery. And in this preparation, I was met with beauty, danger, and the weirdest place in Taiwan.

I began the day with a drive over to Tienmu- the little America of Taipei- known for its expansive ex-pat community, boutique shopping, and as a coveted resource to purchase American candies like Reese's Peanut Buttercups and Butterfingers. But today, my compass remained focused away from these calorie counters and instead on vertical heights and better views.


At the top of Tienmu circle, there is the entrance to the Tienmu Old Trail. The beginning to the trail is excessively strenuous to those who hate stairs. Although I didn't count them, you begin by climbing straight up a mountain, traversing over thousands of steps of stairs; a nearly impossible feat had I not been attending the gym and working out on the Stair-master. The stairs climbed ferociously past jungled homes and mountain-terraced gardens. At times, the staircase seemed to move along in impossible dimensions, fraying out in fascinating waves and curls, sending one off in dizzy spells certain to throw you off balance and incidentally, off the mountainside.


A short respite was welcomed, before more stairs.


Finally, at the top of the mountain, I came across a long, cylindrical black tube running down the mountain side. The sound of rushing water could be heard within its mysterious innards. This long black tube was the culmination of the Grass Mountain Waterworks. Disease was a common problem for Japanese forces occupying Penghu Islands, during the Sino-Japanese Wars, and while building a framework of interconnecting crossroads throughout Taiwan. To prevent the further spread of disease, and to protect Japanese Nationals living in Taiwan, the Japanese Government set up a public health system in 1895 involving running water and sewage. Eventually, the need for tap water grew so high, the Japanese Administration could not meet the population's needs. Therefore, in 1928, the Grass Mountain Waterworks project, in front of which I was standing, was implemented. It delivered 28,800 cubic meters of water from Yangmingshan to 150,000 people in Taipei per day.


Where the trail and the pipeline met, the roads divided. One way was a continuation of stairs to the Taipei Cultural University. The other way was the more scenic, and ironically, more dangerous of the two routes. Naturally, I chose this pathway.

While this route offers scenic vistas comparable to an early autumn's hike in the Berkshires, this jungle has one thing eastern Massachusetts does not: the Macaque monkey. An endemic in Taiwan, these monkeys live generally in areas under 3,000 meters above sea level. They are most active at dawn and dusk, and seeing as my trek was in the middle of the day, I made no encounter with them. But not to fear, I will have a second chance as I plan to take my friends up at the start of dawn to find the monkeys.


Some may find this mission to be a bit foolhardy, as the Macaque are known to attack tourists with their teeth and claws, steal food or expensive electronics, and make life a little more tiresome after climbing all those damn stairs. I am told that as long as I do not stare, or stop to feed them, I will be fine. I intend to follow the rules on this one!


After passing an oddly placed restaurant on the middle of the trail, complete with two dogs and an enormous hog, I reached the end of the trail. Having arrived at a paved road, with a map only in Chinese, I was a bit confused on where to go. Fortunately, a very kind woman offered me guidance. She informed me I could go either way- the first brought me to the Taipei Culture University while the other sent me to the backside of Yangmingshan. At first I crawled up the steep road to the University where I grabbed a second lunch (I was hungry after all that work), found a Catholic Church designed in far eastern decor, decided the University area was boring and returned back to go the other way. This way was much more interesting because the pathway followed along side a natural hot spring river. I followed the steaming brook, and the sulfurous fumes, until I finally reached my destination- the base of Yangminshan. I caught a bus and rode it back down the mountain to the MRT, and took a train up to Xinbeitou.


I had been to Xinbeitou once before, during the winter, to experience the public outdoor hot spring. This time, my destination was along the same lines, but entirely different. I was headed for the source.


Along the central park, past the public library, the hot spring museum, and the public hot spring, up the hill and down a side street not well marked, I came across the strangest, and eeriest place I have been to yet in Taiwan- Hell Valley. Hell Valley is the hot spring source where a foul and odoriferous natural spring comes gushing up through a sulfur gas hole from the volcanic fires below. The spring ejects 2,000 CMD of water at a near boiling temperature of between 80 degrees and 100 degrees Celsius. Although it is clearly too hot to swim in, that doesn't stop locals from coming to boil their eggs in the water! It is a very acidic geothermal pool with a pH of between 1.2 and 1.6, allowing it to easily corrode metals and buildings. As a Melanterite Spring, or more commonly known as a Green Sulfur Spring, it exists in only one other place in the entire world.


Hell Valley covers an area of about 3,500 square feet. The valley is, we shall call it what is is, the crater of a volcano that was formed when it sunk prior to an eruption. Fortunately, today, the residual heat within the crater is not strong enough to set off another kaboom. Instead, it makes for a piping hot source for hot, and surprisingly enough, radioactive springs. The small traces of Radium found in Hell Valley give the hot springs it feeds a recreational and rehabilitating (as some claim) effect.


And when my time with with Hell Valley came to a close, I decided it was time to put that radioactive magic to work on my very tired feet. I walked further down stream, to where the boiling hot water had cooled down quite a bit, stopped by a noodle shop and ordered a bowl of beef noodles to go, strolled down to the running green sulfur water, took off my shoes, rolled up my pants, and I dipped my aching feet into the rejuvenating hot spring waters rushing past me just as the sun was beginning to set in the distant horizon.

Now when I dug my chopsticks into my slippery noodles and reminded myself I was cleansing my feet in a radioactive river coming straight from a volcanic crater, I had to check myself and ask, "Can life really get any better than this?"


From a man who finds himself asking that question more and more each day, your friend, Michael.

A Potter's Life

I have picked up several new hobbies while I have been over here- Chinese, teaching, Asian beer drinking, British English, Chinese Calligraphy, and Asian beer drinking. But perhaps the most secret of all hobbies was given away in the title of this post- my pottery.

Having never taken a class in pottery, I thought I might give it a go. My sister is the potter of the family,- her works are on display in my home in Byfield, MA- so I thought maybe there might be a bit of that visual artistic gene dancing somewhere in my fingertips as well.

For Christmas, I brought two of my friends to a town called Inge, famous for its decorative and illustrious pottery. We boarded the train at Taipei Main Station and for mere pocket change, we were there in less than thirty minutes. The day was dismal and gray, but our spirits were high as we made our way down a small ally to the local pottery store.

During the week, the place is fairly empty so you can make three items and keep one or pay for the others. On the weekend however, when we arrived, you can only make two and keep one or pay for the other. Well, when I sat down at the wheel, I felt the creative juices flow out of my brain and into the clay. I stayed focused, and interested. I built illustrious vases and bowls and dishes. The owner noticed how intrigued I was by my work and he therefore gave me more and more clay to build as much as I wanted. It was a terrific experience.

After we sculpted our designs with our hands, it was off to the decorating table where one could add design after design onto one's cup or bowl. If you wanted to write a message- go for it. If you wanted to add on clay accessories- that was great too! Anything you wanted was available to you.

The first item I made was a cup from with one can drink tea. However, I found a traditional handle to be just too tacky and Western. I wanted to keep the design simple and Eastern which, of course, has no handle. However, here in lies a problem- with no handle, one burns one hand. I therefore decided to reinvent the Asian Tea Cup by adding nodes around the cup to rest your palm and your finger tips. In case one can't determine where to put one's fingers, as though it weren't obvious enough, I labeled Chinese Characters to direct the lost soul's gripping function.

My second creation is of a pig. I created a candy dish and, at the center is a humbling pig waiting to be discovered by the hand that reaches to deep. A gentle reminder to the gluttons of the party!

My last creation was conceived and produced at Sun Moon Lake. In a previous post, I portrayed the creation sans color. Here is the final product. As a reminder, the characters written on this bowl translates to "My there be enough left from this harvest to start another." Translated to it's western counterpart, "May there always be food in this bowl." The bowl is decorated with a Sun and a Moon symbolizing the location at which it was made followed by the dates.

The story ends sadly, though. On our elated return to Inge to pick up our pottery, a friend of mine was disappointed to discover the shop where we made our pottery had lost her pottery. While disappointing, the shop did manage to salvage the cup she made for her father. After picking our pottery, we made our way over to a restaurant for some delicious noodles. But this was an interesting restaurant because after paying a deposit at the beginning of the meal, you can decide if you want to keep your dish or not. See as I had just moved into my new apartment and had no dish ware, I deemed this to be an excellent souvenir of an equally excellent day.

So with that, your Frederick Hurten Rhead of Inge, Michael.

A Few Gentle Reminders

After a certain amount of time living abroad, you acclimate to your bizarre surroundings. The large, burping women on the subway don't offend you and the dare devil scooter-men racing along the sidewalks don't set your heart to over drive. In fact, as much as it scares me to say it, I am beginning to feel at home in Taiwan.

For instance, my Chinese is no where near the level it should be for having lived here nine months. But in all honesty, it's not terrible for someone who hasn't been taking Chinese classes. I can go to stores and inquire or bargain about prices. I can ask for no sugar in several types of tea. I can even hold easy conversations about family, hobbies, and relationships. I have a great deal of work to do, but it is satisfying to know when push comes to shove, I can get what I want in Taiwan's native (or is it psued0-imperial?) language.

But as comfortable as I may feel, there are times when I am kindly rejected from my serenity and spat back onto the unforgiving pavement of reality. And that reality is simply this- I am still in Taiwan, and Taiwan is not America.

About two weeks ago, I briefly stepped away from my school to order some tea. As soon as I had emerged through the front door, I happened upon two older gentleman clearly displeased with one another. Scowls turned to verbal assaults which then in turn went to punches thrown at each other. I quickly stepped to the side as these two men took turns walloping one other with their fists. At this point, a group of spectators formed around the onlookers with beaming curiosity. Fighting and wrestling through the large crowd, the fight broke out onto the street with on-coming traffic screeching to a halt or swerving to miss them.

I turned to an onlooker, who happened to be the lao ban, or shopkeeper, of the store in front of which they were fighting, and asked whether or not we should call the police. She looked at me and shook her head and that was that. As a foreigner who could do little more than ask these two men if they would like their noodles hot or cold, I could not interfere in their feuding. Realizing this, I left the scene and went about buying that tea which brought me outside in the first place.

I walked a short distance down the road to my usual haunt- Kool Tea- flirted with the young, attractive lady who always works there, paid for my tea and began my walk back to the school. All in all, this formulaic process took only five minutes or so. When I got back to the store where the fight had broken out, I was greeted by a very interesting surprise. Nobody had bothered to call the police, because I knew there was a police station only a two minute walk down the road. Instead, there were two young girls separating these two ogres apart.

I sat down with my student after this episode and told him that in the United States, if a fight were to break out in a crowd of people, the law enforcement would be on it very quickly. My student smiled and said, "Not here!" I asked if it had anything to do with shame culture versus guilt culture, or saving face, or managing disputes independently, or cultural differences concerning fighting. My 16 year old student informed me that it was none of those things. "The reason no one called the police," he said, "is because the police are cowards! They would be afraid to do anything!"

My second parable of nine month culture shock comes in the form of weather. In New England, there is no such thing as spring. One day it is freezing and snowing, the next it is sunny and warm. Here, that phenomenon appears to be the same, but at a higher extreme. Last weekend, I went to bed in layers of pajamas covered in layers of blankets. The next night I was practically naked due to the 85 degree scorching heat and humidity. Naturally, there is a difference between a May summer and a July summer. In one weekend, thought, it seemed as if we jumped from March to August in a single sleep.

The citizens of Taipei also noticed this unusual hot spell and decided to join me for a hike on Sunday- all two and a half million of them. Interested in hiking and hot springs, I made my way to Yangmingshan National Park and was greeted by stop and go traffic the entire way. I swear that all the traffic problems of Taipei were transplanted onto the mountain that day as people decided to park their cars on the side of the road and walk up the mountain because they would get there faster. This, of course, did not improve driving conditions. But once the main crowds were left behind and I made my way to more remote locations in the park, I was at once greeted by fresh air, stinky sulfur fumes, and vast mountain landscapes. I returned to Beitou where I decided to veer away from the resorts and go for the public hot spring experience this time. Not as relaxing, but equally entertaining, these springs are a great location for friends of both sexes to relax, relate, and enjoy the mystic powers of the hot spring.

And before I sign off this time, I have exciting news for all of you. Inspired by my daring adventures in The Philippines, I have booked my next vacation. From June 15th to June 30th, I will be backpacking, scuba diving, and experiencing the splendors, riches, and culinary delicacies of South East Asia's favorite travel destination- Thailand. Of course, more on that trip in a few months.

So with open and sincere understanding of where I am, your existentially cognizant, socially perceptive, and culturally attuned lost, little boy of Taipei, Michael.