Late in the twentieth century, my friend met a Taiwanese student whilst at University and had kept in touch ever since. This culminated in today’s trip, the opportunity to experience Taipei through the lens of a local. Our guide picked us up outside our motel and told us we were headed north to Shifen. Located in the mountains, Shifen is known for its rainforests and its celebration of lanterns.
Our four cylinder car struggled up the steep mountain, not helped by my weight in the backseat. Snaking up the hill the combination of altitude and the constant changing of direction left me somewhat lightheaded. This was followed by a bout of claustrophobia, brought on by a two kilometre tunnel through the mountain. At about this point I was wishing that I had setup camp in a Family Mart, surrounded by coffee, prepackaged foodstuffs and reliable airconditioning. At least the traffic was flowing and the scenery was becoming greener by the minute.
Before we tackled the hoardes of tourists we walked over the river on an old rickety suspension bridge. Two steps into the journey I bailed, I couldn’t face my two biggest fears simultaneously – heights and poorly maintained bridges. At least my knocking knees provided warmth while waiting for our party to cross the bridge and return. This time was spent getting familiar with the layout of the small town.
We decided it would be a waste of time to come all this way and not let a lantern go. These lanterns have a storied history, used in wartime as a signalling device, they also symbolise the release of bad luck, the sending of wishes to the heavens and a sign of peace, happiness and prosperity. Over the years this has morphed into a tidy money spinner for the tourist operators in Shifen who send up that many lanterns there is a need for air traffic control.
We are ushered to the middle of a railroad track and given a paintbrush and some blackpaint. Working for a rail company we are trained to not go anywhere near a rail line without the necessary protection. At least if something happened today there would be twenty or so tourists on either side to slow down the train and reduce the severity of my injuries.
Our canvas is a multi coloured lantern with each side representing an area of one’s life – money, health, career etc. We each took turns painting our deepest thoughts and desires onto each side. My friends wished for happiness while I prayed for sound aerodynamics. Our Taiwanese friend gave us a crash course in some local handwriting, my attempt was more akin to a drunken tourist’s ill-chosen tattoo, the meaning of which is open to interpretation. The final side we filled with animal drawings. Squint and you may be able to make out a sheep, a dog suffering malnutrition and a poorly drawn kangaroo.
The moment of truth had arrived. A short delay while the tourist operator fumbles around in his pocket for his cigarette lighter. We have ignition. Judging by the absence of hair on his arms he is an old hat at this launch sequence. He forces us to pose for some photos, we are being instructed to make silly gestures corresponding with the sides of the lantern. We count backwards before he releases our handiwork and we are overcome with emotion. This must be what it is like when a child leaves home for the first time? They grow go up so fast!
Our friend takes us to a local restaurant where she ordered a number of local specialities. Beef noodles, pig intestines, sweet potato shoots, braised pork and rice as well as some pork shoulder and ginger. Other than the intestines everything was enjoyable. I couldn’t tell whether I was chewing on a garden hose that had been neglected in the summer heat or the pork intestine. Thankfully it didn’t have any hint of that metallic taste, though a hint of some kind of taste would have been better than nothing. The clear winner was the beef noodle soup, an absolute delight. Counting down the days until sweet potato shoots become a mainstream salad item on tables around the world.
Fuelled up, we set off on a hike to the local waterfall. Somebody should have told me that there was another suspension bridge along the way, no mention was made of this on the information map. I didn’t take too kindly to my friend jumping up and down on the bridge in front of me. After some choice swear words I made my point clear and I managed to make it to the other side. The waterfall itself was impressive, the noise created from the mass of water drowned out the drone of the tourist masses.
Heading back to the car we see a local farmer struggling to put out a lantern that was blown off course and now posing a threat to his livelihood. Without my glasses I can’t identify a sheep or dog from a distance. Fingers crossed we don’t get a call from the local Fire Investigation Squad in the coming days.
Unbeknownst to me there were plans afoot to stop at another tourism magnet on the way back to Taipei, the Taiwan Coal Mining Museum. As the grandson of a coal miner I wasn’t all that keen to relive my family’s personal history of lung disease and chronic dermatitis. However, I was outvoted and I had little energy to fight the outcome. Let’s hope there isn’t a test at the end?
The tour guide gave us a brief history of the coal mining activities in this region in mostly her local tongue. Our friend was kind (and skillful enough) to translate on the fly. We were then herded towards a tunnel opening, a dank reminder that acted like smelling salts, jolting me awake. As it was locked up it gave the impression of being decommissioned in the 1960s, so I was getting prepared to get back in the car and experience traffic chaos, Taiwanese style. However it wasn’t to be, someone had found the key, unlocked the gate and we were headed towards the tunnel and into the abyss.
We were told to watch our footing as it was wet and muddy in places. I didn’t care where my feet were landing as I was more concerned about the low hanging steel beams, the poor ventilation and a bat sighting. I’m sure my travel insurance doesn’t cover me for Hendra Virus. We eventually make it through the obstacle course of terror only to find what initially appears to be a toy train, ready for our patronage. At this point I am certain that they are going to send us underground and see if we can extend the life of the mine given the current price of coal. This made the suspension bridge from earlier feel like “my happy place”.
The three of us cram into the last carriage on this train. The screams of an unlubricated track were probably ignored by our driver, an old lady who would have been pushing eighty years. Her hearing would have failed her many years ago, likely a victim of industrial deafness. There was no time to relax, the windowless carriage was inviting a stray branch to tear flesh from your arm.
Five minutes later the train comes to a halt and we are told to get out and stretch our legs prior to the return journey. At this point I am walking like a baby giraffe, my leg muscles have been tangled due to the constant vibration. Whilst the train does a small loop to right its direction, I have enough time to say a brief prayer. My organs were lotto balls in the middle of the weekly draw on the return trip.
It wasn’t long before our car was swallowed by the peak hour traffic, the lack of movement felt as if my backseat window had a Taipei cityscape pasted on the inside. Given the hour it was easier for all involved to catch a train back to our motel from her District. The sweetner, her partner who was a chef, had already started preparations on a feast for two strangers he had never met (including one that she had only met today). We stopped in at a shopping centre attached to a petrol station for some high-end bakery treats and some drinks, our small contribution to tonight’s activities.
We were greeted with a table which could have fed my family for Christmas, New Years and Easter. Duck and pancakes for Peking Duck, noodles, a hotpot containing an ocean of floating meats, a vegetable dish, tofu and various sauces. Please tell me it’s not culturally insensitive to leave any food? My meal was washed down with a bottle of grass jelly tea which I bought earlier. She didn’t lie when she said her partner had a sweet tooth, but she lied about the grass jelly tea being refreshing.
Not long after the final mouthful was swallowed we left. They had accepted an invitation at a friends house for a Mahjong night. It was 10:30pm and I had no idea how they could stay awake for another four hours? We headed to the train station but were slowed by a series of garbage trucks. Unlike Australia where the bins are placed on the side of the road, residents of Taipei have to carry the rubbish down to the bin where it is loaded into the truck. If you miss your window, your rubbish must pile up? Multiple people in lifts in pyjamas with heaving bags of rubbish on a Wednesday night was something that they don’t mention in the tourist brochures. The system must work as it is one of the cleanest places I have visited.
The morning after our lantern launch I received an early morning phonecall to tell me that my Grandma had passed away at the age of 98. Given her age it wasn’t unexpected but it was still a shock to hear. She had told me not to come home if something happened to her. Maybe she may have squeezed a couple more weeks out if I had written something more appropriate on the side of our lantern?
We celebrated her life with a custard tart.
