White hot summer, Taipei.

Another reason I was lucky to snag my husband: he agrees that travel is not an excuse to dress down, but a reason to dress up.

White V-neck T-Shirt H&M, White Bangkok sunglasses, Navy Blue H&M shorts, white Muji espadrilles, Rooftop's Life @ Taiwan tote from Eslite.

to Taipei.

I would really like to write a little about my new home city, Hsinchu, but with our schedules filled with apartment hunting and settling in at new jobs, we haven't had much chance for exploration. And, to be fair, I guess the problem is compounded by the fact that we seem to slip up to Taipei whenever we have some time off. Which is, I guess, one of the best things about Hsinchu-- it's only a quick half an hour trip away from Taipei. This makes a day or an evening in the big city a very easy outing.

And so we embarked on such a trip yesterday, with only two things in mind: shopping and museum going. We stopped first at Eslite, a massive department store set in the shadow of 101. Though the Eslite bookstore itself is incredible, we spent more time slowly working through the other levels of design items. After a quick stop at a disappointingly small Muji, and some time spent caught in a tropical storm, we headed to the Taipei Fine Arts museum to see a show of Gaultier clothing.

Taipei is a really exciting city right now, but it's not just because it has become such an international center. It's partly because Taiwan is developing such a unique identity, and designers and artists are finding so many exciting ways to explore it. While it was awesome being able to see the Gaultier show and browse among Japanese design items, it was even more exciting to find a creative bag by a Taiwanese designer, and to see a local artist's video installation that reflected the island we're living on. So while we may, in a sense, have the world available just a short train trip away, right now I'm even more excited to have Taiwan there too.

A late last night in Taipei.

Our departure: 9:30 AM from Taoyuan International Airport.
Our plan: to spend our last night in Taipei, hanging out, eating, catching a few hours sleep in a love hotel, then grabbing an early breakfast, and heading to the airport at 6AM.
Our results: a few hurdles, but it all worked out in the end...

21:00-- Having caught the HSR in Hsinchu, we arrive in Taipei early enough to catch the city still awake. We stow our luggage in the train station lockers, and take the MRT into the Ximen. In this hip shopping neighbourhood, we browse for shoes and cardigans, and join the crowds at Ay Chung for a bowl of noodles.

23:00-- After meeting up with a friend, we duck into a small restaurant for a small dinner. I opt for the braised chicken on rice.

24:00-- We walk to the nearby Red Theatre Square and order some drinks. Located behind the historic Red Theatre, the square is a night-time neighbourhood of gay bars, shops, and restaurants where friends gather at tables under lantern light.

2:00-- Saying goodbye to our friend, we head back to the area around the train station to find a love hotel. Since we don't need a full night's accomodation, a love hotel is perfect-- they're willing to rent a room out for only two or three hours (the name making sense yet?). We ask around at a few spots we know, but everyone is booked up. After scouring the neighbourhood, we're realizing our luck might have run out. We start to wonder if there are any 24-hour Starbucks in the city.

2:30-- Luckily, we'd noticed a few love hotels while we were wandering around Ximen, so we grabbed a cab and headed back there. It felt bizarre to be on the streets of Ximen so late at night-- the small lanes that had earlier been packed with crowds were now totally deserted. We took the elevator up to one love hotel, and the doors opened to a darkened cavern strewn with rubble-- we quickly pressed the 'door close' button, and headed back downstairs. Luckily the hotel nextdoor was still open, and we got a suspiciously cheap room for two hours. The room is tiny-- it feels as if it were built around the bed-- and the walls are lined with mirrors. Eek. We're exhuasted, so who cares.

4:15-- The alarm goes off, and against our protests we get out of bed and take a quick shower. One thing helping us wake up-- we're heading for a really good breakfast. We hop in a cab with a friendly driver, and after a little confusion, manage to explain to him where we want to go.

4:45-- He drops us off at Yungho Soy Bean Milk and Porridge King, which, luckily, is in fact open 24 hours. Unlike in the morning, the place is quiet-- a fraction of the usual staff, and only a few tables of students eating. We order two bowls of warm soy milk, a steamer of shaolingbao, a donut for Bordeaux, and some dan bin for me. Not a bad final meal in Taiwan.

5:15-- Finished, we catch a taxi to the train station, track down our luggage, and then walk to catch an airport bus. As we drive down to Taoyuan in the breaking light, we both doze off a little...

Keeping dry in Taipei.

Our rainy Sunday was not an isolated cloudburst; Cape Town is still trapped under a low ceiling of cloud cover and steady drizzle. But after living in Asia, really, this is nothing. No one does rain like Asia.

We had quite a few experiences of being trapped by a sudden downpour. Like the walk home from work in Bangkok, where Bordeaux and I had to just give up on the idea of trying to stay dry, and ran home, sloshing through knee-high puddles. Or when we were visiting Phnom Penh and got caught in a downpour; luckily we were trapped inside Chocolate, a little cafe selling delicious baked goods and warm lattes. Or the first day of our road trip in Northern Thailand, where less than half an hour out of Chiang Mai we had to pull over to seek cover.

Through all of these incedents, for whatever clever reason, Bordeaux and I were generally without an umbrella. Most often this meant we had to wait it out, or we just got soaked.

Once, however, this ended a little differently. We were in Taipei, and had just visited the National Palace Museum. And just as we were walking through their gardens, the sky opened up and it began to pour. We got trapped, rather unconveniently, under the eaves outside of the restrooms. The rain had no sign of stopping, and we could have been stuck there for much longer, but a Taiwanese couple spotted us, and handed us one of their umbrellas. We tried to co-ordinate getting to the next spot dry with them, where we could give them back their umbrella. But no, they explained, we could have the umbrella. I'd often experienced that people in Taiwan were friendlier than average, but this went beyond. And thanks to their generosity, we got home dry.

Virtual Taipei.

From February to September of this year, I lived without home internet. And at no point did I have a 'life without internet isn't so bad! what did I ever use that for in the first place?' sort of revelation. No, I missed it every day, and having it again (albeit at the slow, expensive, capped megabyte version available in SA) I only appreciate it all the more. Because really, cliche as the phrase sounds, it helps open up the world.

Like, for example, when Bordeaux and I started discussing the idea of going back to Taiwan. Within minutes, we were able to open up a half dozen webpages, blogs, and photo albums to get a sense of what life in Taipei would be like. Here's some of what we've found:

The New York Times offered a list of what to do over 36 Hours in Taipei. It is, of course, a very touristy list-- visiting the observation deck at Taipei 101, or spending $100 on dinner aren't likely to be part of our regular routine. But the list does at least highlight some of the the diverse attractions available in what must be the most underrated city in all of Asia-- and the writer does deserve points for taking a moment out of the high-spending schedule to enjoy a bowl of shaved ice at Ice Monster.

For more general info, the Rough Guide's pages on Taipei are rather useful. The Rough Guide Taiwan was in fact the same guide we used last time we were on the island, as it was clear from the author's writing that he had a real love of the island, and was committed to sharing its best features. More importantly, we found that he gave much more info on eating than the Lonely Planet Taiwan did.

We also scanned Robyn's Taiwan entries over at Eating Asia. She seems to have a gift for finding incredible meals wherever she goes, like the oven baked buns she sampled in Taipei, or the egg and tomato she supped on in Hsinchu. We may have been the ones who tipped her off to visiting Hsinchu, but when we make it back there, we'll be following her tips on where to go eat once we're there.

By far the best guide that I've found for eating in Taipei is at a hungry girl's guide to taipei, a blog of restaurant reviews from around the city. The reviews are descriptive, It also covers food trends (like the abundance of Frozen yogurt shops popping up around town).

And of course, there are my own entries on the island on this here blog. Look over my entries, and you'll see as my low expectations were continually blown away by Taiwan's incredible food, friendly people, and unique local style.

Anyone have any good web resources on the island? Or any other sites you go to when you need a little virtual vacation?

Breakfast shop.

Does the ratio of staff to dining space say something about a restaurant? For though the dining area (and the kitchen, for that matter) at this Taipei breakfast shop were minuscule, the staff numbers were huge. There were at least nine people manning this formica canteen- one woman dishing out ladles of fresh soymilk into plastic cups and bowls, and eight or so men in white sweat-tinted uniforms working elbow-to-elbow in the kitchen. One tended the scallion omelettes, one handled steamed breads and foot-long doughnuts, another three unloaded the bamboo steamers, and the rest busied themselves in all of the other myriad tasks of preparing a delicious Taiwanese breakfast.

Of the three daily meals, the one I enjoyed most in Taiwan was breakfast. It was entirely because of incredible breakfast shops like the above, where I sampled delicious morning treats. I ate shaolingbao, soupy pork filled dumplings that dripped (ok, exploded) when I bit into them; danbing, tasty rolled egg pancakes filled with bacon, tuna, or cheese and spring onions; and scallion omelettes, eaten in thin sesame seed bread. And all, of course, eaten with a glass of fresh, chilled soymilk.

A little more street-food in Taipei.

When Bordeaux introduced me to Taipei, we spent almost the entire weekend sampling xiaochi, Taiwan's little eats. Though most of our eating on this last trip was confined to full meals, we did manage to fit in a few smaller snacks.

While getting lost on the way to our hotel, we came across this man, who was toiling away at an outdoor bakery. I'm used to seeing street-side walks and grills, but this man actually had several ovens on his sidewalk corner. Tempted, we picked up one of his offerings. The crisp pastry broke away to reveal a tasty paste of ground white sesame seeds.

After some shopping later that evening, we passed a grill stand offering some of Taipei's famous sausages. While not exactly pretty to look at, they were delicious- surprisingly spicy, and laced with a strong garlic aroma.

The next afternoon, we came across a stand stacked with lopsided pancakes. Though I was familiar with these treats, I knew them primarily as dessert- filled with redbean, or Thai custard. But here, they also came in a variety of savory flavors. We picked up one filled with tuna. Though Bordeaux was put off by the slightly sweet pancake and salty tuna, I rather liked the unusual combination.

A High-Speed Weekend in Taipei.

Since my birthday fell on a weekday this year (a weekday spent with twelve screaming and sobbing children, as a note), Bordeaux decided to take me away for the weekend before. We decided to go to Taipei, for some shopping, excellent food, and a little sightseeing. I work until noon on Saturdays, but that wasn’t going to get in our way- we were doing this weekend high speed.

The acceleration began as soon as my Saturday class ended, as we zipped over to the nearby HSR (High-Speed Rail) Station. Where Hsinchu’s old train station looks like it belongs in the English countryside of children’s storybook, the HSR Station is firmly rooted in the cutting-edge present. A sleek shell of steel and glass, it looked almost more like an airport than a train station. Within an hour of Bordeaux buying our tickets, our train burst onto the platform, and we stepped in. The doors closed, and the train seemed to instantly pick up speed- thrusting us through rice-paddies, mountain tunnels, sprawling suburbs, and into downtown Taipei.

Our first stop was Ximen, a hip neighborhood of independent shops and funky cafes. After refueling on coffee, we checked out the incredible galleries and boutique shopping at the market at the Red House. Housed in and around an historic brick building, the market included vendors selling hand-made ties, t-shirts with modern Taiwanese graphics, and stationary printed with cute cartoon characters. We headed out in the evening for more shopping- including an exciting stop at Ikea (we don’t have one in Bangkok)- and a delicious dinner of Shanghainese food.

The speed picked up the next morning, when we headed to Taipei 101. The tallest building in the world (at the time of writing), Taipei 101 also has the fastest elevators in the world. After glancing around the high-end shopping mall below, we stepped into the elevators, which rocketed up to the 89th floor in an unbelievable 40 seconds.

The view from the top was rather hazy, but that somehow only added to our sense of height- the edge of the city seemed to disappear beyond skyscrapers and green peaks into white fog. We touristed up the experience as much as we could- listened to the audio tour, send postcards from the top, and took lots of photos- did everything but have our photos taken hugging the blue-screen 101.

After a quick lunch, we boarded the HSR for our trip back to Hsinchu- both so wiped out, that we fell asleep almost as soon as we hit our seats.

Hakkanese lunch-box.

Searching for lunch in downtown Taipei, Bordeaux and I scanned the offerings on a street lined with local fast-food restaurants. Ignoring the sushi shops and shwarma joints, we picked a spot that specialized in Hakkanese-style lunchboxes. Stepping into the cramped interior, we had the strange sense of almost being back in Beipu. The dimly-lit room was decorated to look like a rural teahouse, with wooden walls, roughly hewn tables, and glowing paper lanterns. Our lunchboxes were set in front of us, and we could examine what goes into Hakkanese fast-food: we each had a slightly caramelized chicken leg, a pile of slightly-oily egg noodles, and some fatty pork. If you think that sounds rather heavy- you’re completely right. As tasty as it was, and as hungry as we had been when we sat down, neither of us could finish our lunch. And we could barely touch our dessert- a glutinous rice dumpling, peaked in white sugar. Interestingly, we’d felt the same after out lunch in Beipu. So effectively, they managed to create not just the atmosphere of a rural Hakkanese lunch- but the feeling as well.

Along the avenues and alleyways of Taipei.

This past weekend, in advance of my upcoming 25th, Bordeaux took me to Taipei. Most of our time was spent reveling in the high-tech, futuristic wonders of the city (more on that later). However, while meandering along city streets and alleyways, we also took in the more unusual charms of the city.

Some sights evoked the older charms of the city, like this incredible tea shop. I'd love to take some of those massive green enamel urns home...

Some sights were just strange- like this woman briskly walking a full grown pig on a leash. I should point out that this is the second time since I arrived in Taiwan that I've seen a woman walking a pig on a leash.

Perhaps most intriguing of all was this small pineapple pizza set in front of a Pizza Hut. Not advertising, but in fact a personal-pan offering to the gods, wreathed with smoke from a cardboard-cup incense urn.

Just One Touch.

Beauty parlor window in Ximending, Taipei.

Taiwan Treats: WOW Frog Eggs.

I'm really not one for novelty drinks or treats sold on any gross-out qualities. Maybe it was the silliness of the concept, or the fun graphics of the toad leaving a trail of bubble eggs. Or maybe it was that the drink itself- a lemony lime juice with chunks of lemon jelly (i.e.- the frog eggs)- was actually really tasty, and a nicely refreshing treat to help cool off from the crowds of the Guangzhou night market. But whatever it was, WOW Frog Eggs totally won me over.

36 Hours of Eating Taipei.

In advance of our visit, I attempted to research Taiwanese food. Whether it was because most Taiwanese dishes are still classified as Chinese, or whether it was because there simply hasn't been much interest on the subject in the English language press, I wasn't able to find out much. I did learn, however, that Taiwan is well known for its xiaochi, its 'little eats'. So upon our arrival we set out to sample these little eats. To do so, we passed up on big meals or restaurant menus. Instead, we spent our 36 hours in Taipei among night markets and noodle stands.

Not to be deterred by any weariness from our flight, we began our search for a local meal immediately, and after dropping off our bags we headed out to the Guangzhou night market. Among the rustling tiles of mah jong tables and the whirring gears of claw machines, we searched for our dinner. In the end, we had a bit of dumpling overload: we had expected to get beef soup with pork dumplings, but instead got dumpling soup with pork dumplings. No matter- the dumplings were tasty, and the deep rusty herb-flavored broth was sufficiently exotic to signal to my stomach that we were in new territory.

Before heading out for a morning pilgrimage to a nearby temple, we stopped at a simple breakfast shop. There, we ordered two plates of danbing. A choice of tuna, cheese, or bacon is grilled with a scrambled egg, and rolled up in a thin pancake. It was splashed with sticky sauce, and served on wax paper in a plastic basket. Taken with a glass of warm soymilk, this deceptively simple breakfast offered the perfect kickstart for the day.

Midday saw our arrival in Ximending, a hip youth-oriented neighborhood of t-shirt shops and sunglass stands. Following the crowds, we stepped into line at Ay-Chung Flour Rice Noodle, where we were served a viscous noodle soup in green plastic bowls. Garnished with peanut sauce and a fresh cilantro leaves, it made a tasty lunch eaten standing up.

Seeking refuge from an afternoon downpour, we ducked into Dante Coffee, a willfully generic Taiwanese chain. Though the decor was bland and the coffee just above mediocre, our tea-time snack, a Portuguese egg-tart, was surprisingly good. It was taller and deeper than most I've had, which meant that there was more buttery crust and more room for rich custard.

We travelled our farthest for dinner, which we took at the massive Shillin night market. I had expected something with the borders and definition of Bangkok's Chatuchak, but Shillin seemed to spread its web of toy stands and clothing boutiques over a confusing tangle of alleys and streets. In between the health elixirs and the racks of neon cargo shorts, there were stands offering more types of food than could be imagined- not just noodles and dumplings, but Japanese salad rolls, Indian chai, and Californian burritos. Out of reverence for Taiwan, we stuck largely to more local fare. Between a cup of almond milk and a last glass of cranberry juice, we tasted baked pork buns, grilled whole squid, and barbecued spring onion in a bacon wrapper. Filled up, and with tastebuds satisfied, we squeezed into the crowds of teenagers and were jostled to the exit.

Taiwan Treats: Papaya Milk.

I had originally planned on starting my summer of writing from Taiwan with a post on the visual overload of arriving in Taipei- the view of a jagged patchwork of rice paddies cut away by churning teal waters as our plane turned sharply over the island on its way down to the runway; the mix of exotic herbs and ancient flavors in the air, contrasting with the oddly anonymous spaces of the city; or our first night dining out in a frenetic evening market. But, in the true spirit of the everyday exoticism of this blog, I decided to focus on something small: Papaya Milk, the first drink I had upon arriving in Taipei. Sold in a grade-school style milk box, Papaya Milk has the perfect rich and creamy flavor of just-blended ripe fruit. And the splashy all-orange graphics only help to make it all the more appealing.