Taiwan - Eats Shoots & Leaves

Half the world seems to be in Taiwan this month. (We reckon the other half is in Brazil.) Mary counts at least three groups of friends on her side in Taiwan at the same time as us. I count four groups, including Ronald and WZ who were seated right in front of us on our flight to Taipei.

It was our first time on Scoot. We didn't know Scoot planes were refurbished ex-SQ models. That meant, crucially, decent leg room. We got through customs, collected our baggage and got into a waiting taxi. The trip to Hansome Business Hotel (endorsed enthusiastically by a colleague who enjoyed his stay there just last month) just minutes from the Ximen shopping district set us back by NT$1,100. No rooms were available at half past six in the morning. We left our baggage in the hotel, refueled at MacDonald's and set off for Maokong, a scenic area on the southeastern outskirts of Taipei.

Mary and her mother loved the gondola ride up to Maokong Station, a journey which took us through a succession of crests and valleys which took us from 24 metres above sea level to a modest 300 metres. The glass bottom injected a tiny dose of faux thrill, although Mary prefers nerve-jangling feet-dangling without the glass. However, the adrenaline leveled off into a slow and steady tedium after the first crest.

Below: through the looking glass, commercially milking the cat dry in Maokong and a panoramic view of comparative popular densities.

The name Maokong literally translated from Mandarin into "no cats", but the origins of this name goes beyond the lack of a feline presence here. The name is actually a Mandarin homonym for a Taiwanese word describing the many spring-scoured potholes in the area. Maokong is known for its tea houses, most of which are ranged along a winding hillside left and right of the gondola station. Many of these offer expansive views back towards downtown Taipei. The cultivation of tea in the area began in the Qing period, and was intensified during the Japanese occupation. Popular recreation entered the picture gradually when the tea industry was revived after a brief hiatus caused by wartime exigencies in the Pacific War.

We turned left upon exiting Maokong Station and made our way towards the Big Teapot (大茶壺), one of the tea-houses feted for its views. It was a pleasant ten-minute stroll, punctuated by the sights and sounds of the abundant suburban wildlife in the vicinity. There weren't a lot of people around at ten in the morning, and even the little food stalls along the way were only just starting the day's business.

At the Big Teapot, the tea we chose arrived in a golden bag of dark dried leaves. We were subsequently treated, on our sheepish request, to a demonstration by a staff member of how to make tea from these crumbly black bits. Growing up with tea-bags makes you forget they contain tea leaves.

I then left to take the short walk to Silver Stream Falls (银河瀑布), a reported two-hour return journey from Maokong Station. (At the junction upon exiting the station, walk straight until you see the sign for Zhanghu Trail branching off to the left; follow this uphill and you will arrive at yet another crossroad, take the left, which is signposted, towards the Falls.) The trail led mostly downhill, and the final bit just before the waterfall led down an almost vertical flight of slippery, moss-covered steps hewn from the rock. Thankfully railings have also been installed.

The falls tumbled down a cliff, right next to a cave temple built right into the rock. I had been lucky, as rain from the previous day ensured that the waterfall hadn't thinned out to a wispy oblivion (usual on the dryer days). There was nothing fancy about the cave temple though, only plain functional concrete. I ventured into the bare interior of the temple and behind the falls. Where it hit the ground a faint rainbow gleamed hesitantly.

I read that the vicinity was actually used as a weapons store by anti-Japanese fighters from a little over a century ago, when the area was crawling with these guerrillas. They chose the right place. Dense forest cover and a profusion of steep-sided valleys conspired to make this the perfect guerrilla base. In fact, had not the trail to the falls been so cleanly laid and signposted, it would seem to end abruptly on the edge of a precipice.

So it was back to the Big Teapot where Mary and her mother waited patiently for me. Our lunch of tea-flavoured braised beancurd, fried pumpkin with salted egg, stir-fried sweet potato leaves and four seasons bean with peanuts and soy sauce combined two frequently opposed adjectives - sumptuous and healthy. We returned to Ximen to check in, and only reluctantly roused ourselves from a comfortable lethargy a couple of hours after.

That evening we looked for dinner in the Ximen district. We stumbled on it at Hot-star, where we purchased two large slices of chicken schnitzels. It was more fried skin and dough than meat, and the junk food alarm set in after a few greasy bites. Desserts, which we again stumbled across, was an equally sinful affair - snow ice with cut fruits and ice-cream, doused in a generous serving of condensed milk.

We were delighted to be back in the Taiwan most familiar to outside eyes - a traveler's haven of milk and honey, both literally and figuratively. If you ever doubt that, just count the number of bubble tea outlets within the Ximen square mile.