These are catch-up notes, from Tue Oct 7 in Kaohsiung, through Hualien and back to Taipei. I've held off because I've been overwhelmed by natural beauty, short on time, fell asleep exhausted, and was at times angry. I've forgotten some stuff, but here are nuggets I want to keep.
After writing on the bank of the Love River at the Green Bay beerhouse, there was a major thunderstorm about 3am. My room was facing away from the wind, so the glass was clear. I saw a few bolts clearly strike down into the city, one perhaps half-a-mile away.
The "Southern Link" trainride from Kaohsiung to Hualien was astounding. It goes inland to cut across the Linpian delta, then south to reach and parallel the coast. Lots of farmland, aquaculture, orchards, industry. The section between Linpian and Fangshan is particularly lovely, running south along backsand beaches, palm trees, mountains on the other side.
Then the train cuts inland, following the Fang Hsi (Feng Lin?) River, cutting tunnels through mountains. Amazing, I won't even try to find the words.
Emerges onto the east coast at Dawu. Beach sands are white, and now the mountains rise on the other side of the train. Heading north, near Taitung the track changes from surf & mountain to a valley between the inland mountains and the coastal rift. Lush green mountains on both sides, clouds covering the tops of both inland and coastal mountains, miles and miles of prime farmland. Lots of hot springs to the inland side, but I never experienced any this trip.
The coastal mountains trail down, and you're at Hualien. A SantaCruzian feel, a beachfront town, lots of tourists coming here as base for different attractions. Comfortable.
I had difficulty orienting with the mountains and train station to my west, and the city and beach to the east. Reminded me of how long it took me to internalize Hong Kong's geography, with the mountain to the south, ocean to the north. Seems like it shouldn't have been a problem, but for me, it was.
Taroko Gorge -- my mind couldn't keep up, to do it justice. Water rushes down from the mountains and wears away rock... that's the basic principle.
But this rock is special. It's some of the oldest anywhere. Undersea volcanic eruptions, compressed under massive weight for millions of years, forming high-density marble. Layers hundreds, thousands of feet deep. Pushed up from under the ocean to mountain tops, a few small earthquakes each year on the coastal plate.
Then the rain water beating down, wearing it away. The grade is steep -- a rise of one feet for every six -- so falling water has high velocity when it runs down the hills. Still, even with that steepness, the heavy pounding wears away only five millimeters every year. Takes a century to erode a foot of marble. And these marble-lined chasms are hundreds of feet tall in most places, over a thousand feet in some. That's patience beyond my scale of imagining.
The marble is immovable, the water, irresistable. Once there's any beginning of a channel formed, this is the weaker part which will carry more water. The channels are astoundingly narrow for their height. The rate of erosion is so slow, so focused, that it cuts straight down, rarely sideways. I've never seen anything like it.
And as a side-effect, Hualien is just awash in marble. Sidewalks, buildings, statuary, even the freeform seats at the bus stops -- large hunks of gorgeous, cool marble. It's dirt cheap.
I went on a tour bus with 16 people: a Taiwanese family hosting a French couple, a California/Taiwan couple, a father & son on business from Boston, two sisters from Taipei, three sisters from London. The tour guide spoke heavily-accented Mandarin which I couldn't parse, and he probably didn't need to use the loudspeaker inside the minibus. His driving scared me a little too, enough so that I decided to take the train back to Taipei. Afterwards, we foreigners went to a tourist bar on Linsen Lu. I left after a few hours, when they started singing Beatles Tunes.
Let me rant. Whenever I've used a tour group, there is social pressure to drink too much liquor and talk only about "back home". I could use a little shared perspective on understanding what we're seeing, but I haven't really gotten it when I've succumbed to hanging out with tourists. They cocoon, retreat into talking about what they're familiar with, to block out the present. Makes me angry, and I usually cut out.
I mean, listening to The Eagles is sick enough when you're in the US (they've been 'way overplayed for three decades already, give it a rest, wake up!), but there's something simply degenerate about embracing The Eagles when you have a few precious hours in another type of culture.
And food, too. When I see someone lunge at the French Fries, when the menu also holds "Fried Snail", I see someone with deep disabilities. I may have difficulty eating the snails, but I came all the way out here, I at least want to experience them.
People who describe themselves as "liberal" are usually deeply conservative, reactionary, and susceptible to authoritarianism. They're missing so much, and imposing such banality on the rest of us. And yes, I'm talking to that iPhone-Uber-Alles, Obamah's Witnesses groups too. They freak me out, they're such stupid, dangerous, judgmental little robots. They seek the comfort and reassurance only Hello Kitty truly provides.
Okay, I feel better now, a guy needs a little catharsis every now and then.... ;-)
A dawn walk through Hualien, watching the sunrise over the South Pacific. Lots of little signs of neighborhood life. People always willing to share a smile. Seeing the quirky, how they stand out from their crowd. I've got photos, and some Twitter Haiku, but won't try to pull it together here today.
The next day, a train ride from Hualien back to Taipei. Me, with my dual maps, watching for landmarks, consulting a compass. The first section is some of the most dramatic mountain-meets-ocean in the world, from Hualien to Suao. Railtrack and highway cross each other, hopscotch, bursting out of tunnels to a new and magnificently unexpected view, then suddenly back into blackness again. Passing Turtle Island at Beantown, waving hello. Inland for an hour, reprising the north shore and Jiushen, then into Taipei Main Railway Station.
I'm surprised at how much easier it is to navigate, in a place where I've already oriented myself. During the previous week I had stayed in four different cities, two days each, and each time it took awhile to get my bearings, was always working without known reference points. In returning to Taipei I just knew where I was, where I was going. Much easier. Funny what even a little experience will do.
In Taipei the last three days I've just been walking, walking, walking... trying to soak up as much of the neighborhoods as I can, reprising some places, crossing other places off my list, bidding some a sad "maybe next time".
I'm staying at the famous Grand Hotel. Got an online deal for a budget room, $500US for 3 nights. It's five-star, and amazing, but a little funky and anal-retentive. Signs everywhere: "don't slip in the tub", "don't climb here", "smoking forbidden", "don't wear sandals".
The Grand is the massive Chinese building on a hill northwest of town -- everybody who hits the airport sees it. It was built during KMT days, and reflects Mandarin glory. Said to be the largest Chinese-styled roof in the world. This was wear Chiang Kai-Shek hosted his foreign friends and business pals. It's physically beautiful, with large rooms and balconies, nested among hills and walking paths. But it does feel fifty years old, from A/C to elevators to outlets and even the smell. The Internet is a US$15 charge, steepest I've seen here, and worse it requires you to type in lengthy scrambled alphanumeric codes, and takes a few tries to succeed. Barbaric, in its way. But beautfiul.
Okay, I'm at least nominally caught up. Let me pack, shower, get outta here. I've got a few hours before I have to catch a plane.
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