TaiwanaBlog

Adieu, Taiwan

2010-09-13T09:25:00.001-07:00

This is it. The final entry in Taiwanablog. It culminates one hundred twenty six entries, three and a half years, and countless memories of living in Asia. It's also an impossibly difficult entry to write as what you read here is my final thought, my final say, my final story about Taiwan. It is my final goodbye to you.

I decided it was time to leave Taiwan about three months ago. I gave my job the requisite 3+ months notice, not realizing those three months were going to fly by. But they did and before long, I found myself in Taipei without a job and the days counting down to my flight off the island. It worked out pretty well that my last weekend was also my birthday, so a birthday party masked the difficult going away party.

The night began perfectly. I met Richard Jones and Steve Lambert, two very close friends, for a going away barbecue at our favorite all-you-can-eat-bbq restaurant. The drinks were flowing, the stories were being shared, and the camaraderie was in high spirits.

After we were well fed, it was then off to On Tap to celebrate the birthday. All my good friends were in attendance and we drank and celebrated 26 years of my life. My friends Yoyo and Jenna purchased a cake for me that had a picture of me on it, along with a naked body and an enormous penis sticking out of it. All I can say about that was it was interesting blowing out the candles!

They also prepared a farewell book for me where all my friends signed it and made a note of the good times we've shared over the last three years. The book was touching and will go with all my other treasured keepsakes that I have collected over the years. With that, the early birds returned home to retire while the rest of us took off to Roxy 99 for a canonical stopoff to any foreigner's night out. My nights began in Roxy 99 so I only saw it fitting for them to end there. And for those that know him, the rainbow guy made an appearance just for me (or I like to think so).

The next day was filled with last minute chores and meetings. I met some close friends of mine at a small dumpling restaurant for a goodbye dinner. They gave me a very funny t-shirt that said "lick here to add me as a friend" and an arrow points to my chest under the shirt. The lunch was divine and I saw some dragon dances outside, which was a goal of mine since I first arrived in Taiwan.

Later in the evening, I met some good friends, Steve, Mike, Yoyo, Jenna and Singing, for one last dinner at Din Tai Fung. I had long planned it that I would have a dinner here and then get on the bus to the airport, and that's what I did. I had all my bags with me. I arrived at 8.30pm, just like I used to do when I was a student and got to know all the waitstaff there. They sat us at the large table on the second floor where I used to have the Wednesday gatherings with the owner and his friends. We laughed and chatted about things as if we would always be around that table. They teased me because I ordered 3 baskets (30 dumplings) of Xiao Long Bao. We stuffed ourselves and spoke of plans to one day travel around the globe to see each other again.

Outside the restaurant, I said goodbye to the waitstaff I have come to know so well. I then said goodbye to Singing. I then said goodbye to Mike and Steve. I got into a taxi with Yoyo and Singing and we shared a cab to the bus station which was on the way to their house. On the way there, I joked that we couldn't start a conversation because there was no time to finish it. It was funny, but sad as it was also true.

We arrived at the bus station and unloaded my stuff. I gave Yoyo and Jenna a hug and said, "let's go to Roxy 99 next weekend!" They started to cry. I told them to get going or I would start to cry too. They got into the taxi and drove off. With that, I got on my bus which took me to the airport and early in the morning the plane took off and I left Taiwan behind me.

The island itself is behind me but its spirit is with me forever and always. She is a darling of an island, a secret tucked away in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It doesn't even cross the radar screen of most people, but to those that take the effort to get out there, they find something magical, real and intoxicating. I spent three and a half years in a place I only intended to spend one year in. Three and a half years and I made some of the most memorable experiences of my life.

I learned how to ride a motorcycle. I went whitewater rafting. I became momentarily addicted to the hot springs. I ate snake and pig's blood. I learned Mandarin. I taught English. I climbed the highest mountain in Northeast Asia, in the snow. I camped on a volcano. I swam with whale sharks. I watched a guy box a cobra. I rode the death railway. I bungee jumped off a building. I gambled in Macau. I ate dim sum in Hong Kong. I dove with Bull Sharks. I climbed the highest mountain in Southeast Asia and then rappelled down the cliff side. I saw gold waterfalls, giant bamboo, towering mountains, endless gorges, sweeping cliffs and dramatic oceans. I spent Chinese New Year with family. I got shot at by fireworks. I ate barbecue in Seoul. I drank expensive wine in Singapore. I hunted with an aboriginal blow dart. I dated a Taiwanese girl. I went to the top of the world's tallest building. I rode an elephant. I petted a tiger. I paint balled. I went surfing. I climbed mountains. I fractured my wrist. I drove my motorcycle around the island. I met some of the most amazing people I have ever known.

And this last part, the friends, they are probably the greatest contributing factors to my happiness in Taiwan. The people are Taiwan more than the cities and the mountains and the bike trips. The friends I have made are by far the most incredible people and I will miss them terribly. From the folks at my training group to the friends that bade me farewell, and all the crazy cats in between, you have made the last three years something to toast to.

So there you have it. Not much more to say now. Three and a half years. Taiwan, you were too good to me. I love you.

And you, my readers. I started this blog not really knowing what it was going to be or what would happen with it. To be honest, I started it so that I wouldn't have to keep writing those mass e-mails to everyone. In the end, it has become a time capsule, a written record of my life abroad. And you have been there, for all of it. Good and Bad. Thanks for reading what was for the most part unedited chicken scratch on the Internet. I hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

But the journey doesn't end here. I have an ambitious goal ahead of me- three months of traveling actually. And it's all being recorded on my new blog. You can read about it here at twoitchyfeet.wordpress.com. I'm looking forward to seeing you over there!

From your American-in-Taiwan, (maybe someday again, still looking for a Taiwanese wife!) Michael.

The Solo Bike Ride

2010-09-07T03:13:00.000-07:00

The grand trip. The epic journey from North to South. The final voyage on my motor- cycle. It was to be five days with just my girl and me, all 200cc's of her, and long uninterrupted stretches of asphalt and dirt, through mountains and along coast. It was to rival my last motorcycle trip not in length, but in driving expertise as this trip was to be done almost entirely in the mountains. The only problem was I didn't get a move on until almost 2 days after my anticipated start.
　　
The trip started out in disaster. My good friend Mike was to join me on this ride, but some schedule mishaps at work prevented him from coming along. Instead, we hung out on Sunday and went out to lunch in this famous Soymilk restaurant in Yonghe. Apparently this restaurant, which is famous for Soymilks, Xiao Long Baos and other small eats, influenced an entire food genre that has avalanched across China. In fact, most Soymilk restaurants now call themselves the Yonghe Soymilk Store in honor of this famous institution.

The lunch was nice, but it did put me a day behind. I was determined to take off early the following day. Before I left on my trip, I got online to say hello to my parents. I was speaking with my dad and we were talking about a birthday present for my mom. We came to the conclusion that we would buy her this spiffy new touchscreen laptop that you can only get in Taiwan. This, however, would be a full day task. I got on my bike and drove down to the computer store where I purchased the new toy. I then had to bring it to an Acer center for them to change the computer into English. After dropping it off, I went to lunch and then returned back to pick it up. I finally brought it over to the FedEx office to ship back to the USA. The ordeal was lengthy and I didn't get on the road until 4.30pm.
　
I took a different route through the back roads to Pingling (which took me through this lovely little village I had never been to) and then over to Yilan. I arrived in Jiaoxi just as the sun was setting and contemplated on whether or not I should check into a hotel. I decided to keep on driving.
　
Haphazardly, I took a wrong turn and started driving into the mountains. During the day this is a precarious route to take and seeing it was already pushing late into the evening, it was not somewhere I wanted to be. I turned around and got resituated on the coast road and before long, I was winding my way down the East Coast. I will be honest, I've driven this route in both the day and night, and I far prefer the night. Moonlit turns along cliffsides crashing into the sea, cool breezes wafting in from the ocean, twists and turns in the mystery of the darkness made this a very awesome ride.

I pulled into Hualien and went straight to sleep after a long day of driving around. I also had an early day the next day and I wanted to be rested for my long trip into the mountains. It didn't matter, though, as I woke up much later than anticipated and didn't get on the road until 10am. Fortunately, the road was clear and the ride through the mountains was bright and sunny. The entire affair was in good order. I continued along the same route as last only in reverse order. Again, I approached the highest road in Taiwan and coasted through the European style castles down into Puli.

From Puli, I continued along to Sun Moon Lake where I decided to stay for the evening. The clouds rolled in as I sat along the waterside and ate some aboriginal boar and drank some Taiwan Beer. I went to sleep early in the most comfortable bed I have ever stayed in (actually, funny enough it was the same hotel I stayed in when I first came to Sun Moon Lake years ago) and slept soundly.

I woke up early the next day and took off for a long day of driving. My ultimate goal was to travel from Sun Moon Lake to Tainan while stopping for some touring in Alishan. It was an ambitious goal, but waking up at 6am put me in the running. The first surprise I got was when I took a road up the backside of Yushan! The road wove back and forth providing stunning panoramics of Taiwan's most iconic peak.

Continuing on, it was a straight shot into Alishan National Park. It had been a longtime goal of mine to make it to Alishan and I was so delighted to have finally arrived! I paid the park entrance fee and parked my bike. I went up to the Alishan Train Station and booked my ticket for the Hogwarts Train. In a quaint station made of pine, an old locomotive arrived carrying with it antique wood carriages.

The train took us through the mountains to where the old sacred tree used to stand. Today, it has fallen and has started to decompose. Continuing on past the end of the line, the trail goes through some magnificent Red Cypress trees. Some of these trees are almost 2,000 years old and reign supreme in this old growth.

One unique location was a tree that had died and was reborn three times! The first time the tree grew up, died and fell down. A seed landed on the tree and the sapling took the nutrients from the roots of the dead tree. This tree then continued to survive for hundreds of years when it too passed away. At this time, a new seed came along and again started using the roots from the first and second growth. Remaining are all three trees and a very interesting story.

After the little walk, I sat down at a nice little restaurant and got some lunch. I had some famous Alishan Tea and then was back off through the sea of clouds. I zoomed down the mountain side and connected with route three. The road took me straight down through more precarious mountain passes until I reached Tainan at about 5pm.

In Tainan, I met up with my friend Mike who was supposed to join me on the trip in the first place. He took the bus down and we met a few of his friends that were teaching in the city. We checked out some of my favorite temples from last time and then met his buddy for some dinner and drinks. Afterward, we hit the town and went to a fun little night club. The momentum of the evening was disrupted a bit when they stopped the music and played a massive tournament of Rock, Paper, Scissors for thirty minutes.

Late in the evening, we retired as I was waking up at 10am the next day to continue my ride down to Kiaoshiung to visit a friend. I woke up on time, fortunately, only to be presented with a typhoon pouring down outside. I knew I had made it this far and I wasn't going to let a little rain ruin the rest of my trip, so I went to 7/11 and purchased five ponchos. I covered myself in plastic to the point that I was probably preserving my freshness all too well, and then I was off. At first I was doing quite well and was remaining fairly dry. But when you drive a motorcycle in a typhoon, you are going to get wet. And after an hour on the bike, I was soaking wet as were all my change of clothes in my bag.

I arrived in Kiaohsiung a little late and soaking wet from head to toe. No matter, my friend was happy to see me and off we went to this excellent little seaside restaurant to eat some great food and watch the waves come crashing in. It was by far one of the coolest restaurants I had been to in Taiwan! The typhoon was really picking up speed and at this point, the restaurant lost power. Without any electricity, they decided to close down for the day. The owner of the restaurant
gave us a ride out of there as it was pretty far out of the way and, well, there was a typhoon.

He dropped us off at the movie theaters where we tried to dry out a little more by catching a film. We ordered some hot drinks and enjoyed the movie for a bit. Before long, it was time for my friend to head home and for me to get on the bus back to Taipei. I sent my motorcycle back to Taipei by bus and I took a five star luxury liner overnight. Early in the morning, I found myself back in sunny Taipei, out of the typhoon's reach and checked into a short stay hotel where I freshened up and caught a short nap. From the final road tripper around Taiwan, Michael.

Murphey's Law

2010-08-23T00:48:00.001-07:00

Murphey's Law states that whatever can go wrong will go wrong. This weekend served that mantra perfectly, but still resulted in an excellent time had by all. The ride was to be my first of two major bike trips around Taiwan- our goal was to leave Taipei on Friday afternoon and drive down to Taichung, cross over the island on the cross island highway and then back up to Taipei from Hualien. An ambitious plan to say the least even for two experienced motorcyclists like Steve and me.

Steve got out of work early on Friday and I had the day off, so our plan was to get out of Taipei by 3.30pm and down to Taichung by nightfall. I showed up at Steve's apartment with all my gear ready to go. Steve just returned from a two week holiday from the UK so he hadn't touched his bike in sometime. As a result, the battery was dead and, being the only bike in existence not to have a kick start, required me to push him down the road while he popped the clutch in first gear getting the bike to start. It worked well on the first go and we were off.

Shortly into the bike ride, Steve pulled over and I followed suit. He showed me that the brake handle on his bike was broken and that he needed to get it repaired before we left. I agreed with him and told him we needed to get gas ASAP as my bike was on empty. There was a station en route to our local mechanic and we stopped in. I topped off and then took off only to notice Steve was not with me. He turned off his bike, as he should have, when he got gas but couldn't get it started again. I got behind him and must have pushed it ten times and still no luck. We pushed the bike over to a mechanic's shop across the street from the gas station and asked him for a jump start. That's when Sherlocke here (Steve) noticed that the bike wasn't actually turned on. I almost killed him considering how many times I pushed that damn bike in the summer heat. Well, as luck would have it, we pushed the bike, got it going, and off to our mechanic's we went.

We got to the mechanics and, while the handle was broken, it was not crucial to fix it right away. Instead, the mechanic suggested we replace his brake fluid to ensure its proper use. He told us it would be about 30 minutes to change it, so we went to a local canteen and grabbed some fried rice while we waited. When we got back, Sherman (our long lost friend who went to China) made a surprise return. We chatted graciously and happily and, being almost 6pm, we informed him we were driving down to Taichung that night and had to get going.

Driving through Taipei took the most time, but once we got on route 3 proper, we were in open stretches 0f untamed, uninterrupted road. It turned dark quickly, but the warm summer night and the wind against our faces left us with a spirited heart and an bounce in our drive.

We decided to stop off in Fongyuan instead of Taichung because it was more conducive to our route. After checking into a hotel, we went out to a local bar called the Office for a few drinks. Just as we sat down to order our drinks, I received a phone call from a teacher that just arrived saying that the school was not at the aiport to pick him up. I talked him through what to do and the crisis was averted. I returned to my seat to see Steve chatting up a waitress who seemed very interested in him.

Before I had time to say something to ruin all his chances, I received another phone call from another teacher saying that her visa was denied and she was due to get on a plane that same day. I spent about an hour on the phone with various people at twelve o'clock at night trying to sort out her situation. Fortunately, it all came together and we got her to Taiwan without issue. Meanwhile, I finally returned back to Steve (who was on his third beer by now while I had hardly even touched mine) and with some more flirting we retired for the evening.

We woke up early the following morning for a long day of driving ahead of us. We hopped on our bikes and took off for the Cross Central Highway. The sky was clear, the road was pleasant, and nothing stood in our way between us and Hualien. Nothing, that is, except maybe a massive landslide wiping out the entire road. After about an hour into our ride, there was a checkpost and police blocking the road. They informed us that a large landslide had taken out a massive section of the road and that there was no way around it. If we wanted to get to Hualien, we had to find another way.

This was a major blow to our plan. We were hoping to get into Hualien around 5.30pm at the latest but with the detour, we were looking at 9.30pm at the earliest. We had to return back toward Fongyuan and then down top Puli in the central part of Taiwan, which is only moments away from Sun Moon Lake.

After Puli, we drove up north along route fourteen which is, by far, the most bizzare road I have ever seen in Taiwan. Basically, this road travels through a re-creation of European castles in the middle of a farmland. These castles are enormous and are straight out of Bavaria. The road continues on for a bit of time and stretches up to become Taiwan's highest road at 3,225 meters high.

The view at the top was simply outstanding and bordered on the verge of phenomenal. During the winter, you can take this route most of the way and admire the snow capped peaks of the central cordillera.

I also learned something about motorcycles up here. Basically, motorbikes, as with most engines, have carburators that mix the gasoline with the oxygen to form the combustion. At high altitudes, there is less oxygen and this can affect the torque of some bikes. Unfortunately, my bike happened to be one of those bikes and the ensuing drive became an absolute sluggish nightmare. Anything about 2,500 meters, apparently, really affects my motorbike.

Fortunately, after the highest road in Taiwan, it's all downhill so the momentum helps out tremendously. We reached Taroko Gorge National Park at nightfall and I have to say it's crazy creepy driving through the gorge in the pitch black. It's borderline insane when it's raining, as it started to do as we emerged from the first elongated tunnel. But once we were out of the gorge, it was a straight, dry shot to Hualien where we arrived and found a nice clean place for a real bargain.

Steve and I then got ready for one of the best nights out I have ever had in Taiwan. We began with a visit to my favorite pub in Hualien that has a quaint little outdoor bar to it. When the outdoor part closed off and we had to move inside, we decided to move the party out to another location.

As we left the bar, we noticed some flashing lights and decided to check it out. It was a bit of a night club (albeit a small one) with a police car stationed outside. We decided this is where the party HAD to be, so we made a note to return back here later.

We checked out this old fashioned Karaoke pub that had live karaoke. One of the waitresses came over and chatted with us for a little bit. She urged one of us to go up and sing, but I informed her the only song I knew in Chinese was Zhir Yo, and that I know minimally at best. That was a mistake because my song came up next and before I knew it, I was singing a Chinese Karaoke pop song in a real local bar with a bunch of Taiwanese. It was pretty well received, none the less, as the crowd even joined along singing with me.

Steve and I then decided to check the club that was being busted by the police earlier. We showed up and the police were gone. We paid our entry and went into the bar. We sat down next to this Taiwanese guy who took an immediate interest in two foreign guys sitting next to him. I used my Chinese and we hit it off right away. Before I knew it, he was ordering us shots of tequila, which I hate, and we sat there and toasted to him.

Before long, it became quite apparent why this place was broken up earlier by the cops. It included a PG-13 strip show which is a serious deal in Taiwan! Essentially, a girl went to the middle of the dance floor in a sexy bathing suit and danced. Once she pulled me up to dance with her for a bit and feeling the groove I enduldged her for about five seconds before I returned to my seat. It was a good thing too because then they got this other guy on stage and stripped him down to his underwear. (Apparently it was his birthday and the dancer was a friend of his so it was all in good fun).

I have actually seen these shows at other places in Taiwan and believe it or not, they are actually family appropriate. They are in restaurants all over the island and I would not mind bringing my mother to them. However, seeing as this was in a club, it was probably a bit more risque than most others.

We hung out there for a while and I met the birthday boy in the bathroom. We talked for a bit and asked him where else we could go to continue the night. By now, it was about 1am and this place was thinning out. He directed Steve and me to a local night club called Queency and a short taxi drive later, we were there.

When we walked in, we were treated like kings. A group of friends immediately came over to me and wisked me away to their private booth. There they gave me free whiskey and beer to celebrate the evening. Some great songs came on and suddenly we were on the dance floor leading charge. It was as if a hollywood movie star just walked in and were given the royal treatment.

By the time we emerged from the club, it was very early in the morning and the sun was in full shine. Steve and I looked at each other and we both agreed that we were going to have to take the late checkout. We returned back to our rooms and passed out for the evening. We woke up at 2pm and checked out. We went for breakfast at this small little waffle shop to get some food and assess our hangovers. My head and stomache were functioning at about 80% which was pretty good but the truth is I was incredibly exhausted. I made the decision that I was in no condition to make the motorcycle trip back to Taipei.

Steve, tired as well, decided he would make the trip back that day. I took the train and returned back to Taipei in a sweet, sleepy haze. A week later, I returned back to Hualien by train and met my friend Brian. The two of us hopped on our bikes and made the awesome ride along the coastal route back up to Taipei in record time. Before long, we were back in Taipei sipping on tea and chewing on dumplings.

From your Murphey's Law Enforcement, Michael.

The Temples of Tainan

2010-08-15T23:05:00.001-07:00

Tainan, the old capital of Taiwan, is a city of temples, mystery and and historical sites unlike anywhere else in Taiwan. Exploring the old district of Tainan, secrets and treasures are held at every bend. Burning incense wafts out onto the streets from religious temples and prayer rituals. It is a stunning location with architecture to match even the finest Chinese temples in Beijing. Albeit the scale is not as grandiose, but the craftsmanship, artwork, history and intricate details rank up there with the world's finest.

I hopped on a bus late on Thursday night as I took Friday off for a bit of exploration. The drive down to Tainan is a long one, pushing on four hours. But the five star luxury bus, complete with your own television, makes this ride much easier. Getting in late to Tainan, I decided to check into a cheap hotel right across the street from the bus station. I was tired and didn't feel like searching for accomodation late in the evening. I retired with the first place I found with hopes of waking up early the next day.

I got up the following morning and went to the train station where they have a scooter rental shop behind it. I rented a small 50cc scooter to help me get around town to see the sites. Being more of a motorcycle man, it was quite the experience to drive around on the 50cc. They might be small, but they sure can move!

My first stop was at the Chikan Towers, Tainan's seminal tourist destination. Built by the Dutch in the 17th century, it served as the central administrative office. During this occupation, the Hans Chinese came to call it the "Tower of the Red-Haired Barbarians", fitting for the western powers inhabiting the dweeling. Today, on the tower's front lawn, there is a bronze statue depicting a Dutch soldier (wildly out of proportion) handing control over to the Chinese.

The towers are also famous for the nine tables carried by turtles surrounding the tower. It is believed that these massive stones were produced elsewhere and transferred to the towers.

Behind the Chikan towers is an often overlooked temple. It's such a shame too, as it's the oldest Matzu temple in Tainan. It is small, but the art and decorations speak great worth to it. At the entrance to the to tmeple are large columns.

At the top of the columns, savages are depicted holding up the ceiling. This is in contrast to the lovely painted tiles adorning the walls in the entrance.

Inside, you are hit immediately by the strong embers of incense and antique treasures identifying this as a masterful temple. One particular art piece that struck me was the massive tiger. It is a sculpture of a tiger that is incorporated into a mural, giving the impression that the tiger is emerging off the landscape and into the temple itself. It is a unique and memorable piece of work.

Not far from the oldest Matzu temple is the largest Matzu temple. You could explore this temple for hours and still not come across every last bit it has to offer. But the coolest thing about this temple is not the temple itself but the street it's located on. This street is called fortune teller's alley because of all the old astrologers that live here. If you speak Chinese and are into the sort of thing, then come on down and tempt fate!

Exploring temples can be exhausting work. After these bits of history, I decided it was time to check out another part of Tainan- Anping. This is the oldest part of Tainan and holds some splendors for those willing to make the 3km journey out there. For those travelling by scooter, of course, it is just a quick and painless shoot over there!

Anping is a port town on the Eastern side of Tainan. It is home to the old Dutch fort where the Dutch first set up shop. There is a newly constructed watch tower at the top of the fort offering nice panoramic views of the city.

Below the fort is an old street selling some famous and traditional Chinese snacks and treats. The most famous is an old dried fruit and candy shop that has been selling their dried fruits since the Qing Dynasty. I arrived at this no-nonsense, no frill shop (I think it looks the same now as it did when it first opened, and probably contains some of the original dried fruit) and was surprised to see the hords of people lined up to make their sweet purchases.

The shop is split into two components. The front has shelves with large glass jars in it where you can order your dried fruits by the kilogram- a wholesale option. It's a lovely, oldfashioned way to enter the shop. In the back is where the business takes place. The individual fruits are partitioned out in small bags and you can buy a bag of fruits for NT$50. I purchased some dried Kiwi, Strawberry and Pineapple. As I was checking out, I asked the shopkeep if he had any recommendations. He had an open bag of dried sweet plum and gave me a free sample. I plopped one into my mouth and the sensation overjoyed me. Essentially, you place the sweet and sour dried fruit, no larger than a gumball, into your mouth and you suck on it. Eventually, nothing is left except the pit in the middle which you throw away. It was so good, I bought three more bags right away!

After the dried fruit shop, I returned back to my hotel and washed up for the night. I then went to a very famous restaurant called "Slack Season Noodle Shop". This noodle shop was open before the turn of the century and is famous for serving up cheap and delicious bowls of Danzi Noodles. The food is prepared at the entrance to the restaurant with all the ingredients laid out in plain view.

The tables are small and close to the floor to you have to sit on the small wooden stools reminiscent of tree stumps. The noodles are delicious and have a combination of the freshest ingredients. It is topped off with a single prawn, which I discarded as I prefer not to eat seafood!

After dinner, I hit the pubs and bars for some late night fun before going back to bed. The next day I caught the bus back to Taipei and was home in time for a fun Saturday night out with friends! From the magical history tour bus to Tainan, Michael!

Paintballing

2010-08-08T03:22:00.001-07:00

About a month ago, my friend Jeff invited me to go paint- balling with him. At the time, I figured it was a good idea. I would be able to get outdoors, after all, and shoot him all day long. No one was kind enough to inform me that paintballing is extremely painful and will leave you covered with bruises all over your body.

The day started early (as do all my adventures with Jeff like river tracing and surfing) with a nice Dan Bing breakfast. I prefer the zhwa bing variety, but I am in the minority amongst foreigners on that one. With a full belly, we rode our bikes up to the paintballing location and geared up.

In our full army uniforms and our guns in hand, we marched out into the bush. Being my first time paintballing, it was reminiscent of hiking out in the bush in Vietnam as it was a hot and steamy day in the jungle! When we arrived at the battlefield, we decided to play a game of capture the flag. As mentioned already, I would rather shoot Jeff all day than capture a flag so I was delighted to learn that I was not on his team and I could set my sights honestly! All's fair in friendship and paintballing.

We were given time to survey the surrounding area and plan our attack. We clearly had the defensive advantage with more areas to protect our flag, but would make the offensive aspect of our strategy somewhat more challenging. Nevertheless, we took our positions and the General blew his whistle.

With that, the paintballs started flying. You could hear them wizz past you like angry bees looking for the kill. One hit my head leaving a strealk of pink paint, like blood, across my hair. At least I hope it was paint!

The attack was full on now, but with seconds remaining we were able to maintain our position and hold the deep. The whistle was blown and the first war game ended in a stalemate. We took a break as another battle waged on before we returned to the field and played again. We took the tougher side and, sadly, this game did not go so well. I was shot again and had to retire to the "land of the dead" as I watched the opposing team advance on our fort and capture our flag. A victory for them, perhaps, but I got to shoot Jeff all day, which was a victory for me.

After the second game, we returned to the HQ and had a big BBQ celebration before the afternoon games started. Unfortunately, I had to meet some people in the afternoon, so I was honorably discharged and went home.

On my way back, I imagined how fun it would be to ride my motorcycle with a paintball gun and shoot all the pedestrians as they walked by. From your 5 Star General of the Paint, Michael.

Signs of the Times Part 3

2010-08-03T04:46:00.001-07:00

This is the third and final installment of Signs of the Times. Over the last three years, I have brought you humorous signs found around Taiwan in all their grammatically incoherent humor. I hope that this installment doesn't disappoint.

And no paini either! What the picture doesn't show is that the bridge is only about 15 feet high!

Just when you thought it was safe to back in the water.

Tourists come from far and wide to see the magnificent Shed of Taiwan!

Did you know that Starbucks sued his company for logo infringement. Starbucks lost.

Tree Frogs sure are a pain in the taipeianus!

Even the hiking posts are mocking you, fool!

Monumental

2010-07-31T22:14:00.001-07:00

After visiting the Martyr's Shrine, in occured to me that I haven't written up a proper entry on the monuments in Taipei. At the risk of absolutely boring you to death with this, I'll keep it short and brief.

This is the Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall. It was recently changed to freedom hall and Chiang Kai Shek was covered up by kites. This was done because many Taiwanese still consider him to be a brutal dictator responsible for the murders of thousands of Taiwanese.

This is the Dr. Sun Yat Sen Memorial Hall. Basically, this guy created Modern China (but not communist China).

That's about it. Sorry to bother you. Mike.

Goodbye Old Friend

2010-07-21T00:01:00.001-07:00

Shoes are your finest comp- anions. They see everything you see, but from ground level making them your least pretentious bit of clothing. They bear your weight daily and take hard poundings during exercise and hiking. Yet they give 100% all the time and make sure that, in the end, you always get to where you want to go.

A friend that takes this type of abuse surely can't last long. The average life span of a pair of sneakers is about 6 m0nths. When I arrived in Taiwan, I purchased a pair of Nike Cross Trainers (probably rip offs) after I absentmindedly left my old ones at a hostel in Hualien. I did not replace these sneakers for almost three years.

These shoes saw a lot with me- they climbed volcanoes in the Philippines and went clubbing in Kuala Lumpur. The toured the sights of Hong Kong and jumped off a tower with me in Macau. Needless to say, wherever I went, these babies were not too far behind, just below me.

So maybe that's why they looked they way they did in the end- rabid old hobo shoes hanging on to dear life by, well, a shoe string! The sole almost completely tore away, the shoe laces were unravelling at the speed of light, and the color resembled the darkest earth tones man could imagine.

So it is with fitting aplomb that I commend these vessels of feet, these tokens of traffic, these carriers along carpets, and bid them adieu. To you, the finest shoes I have ever had, always remember I believed in you long after most people implored me to throw you away. Of all my shoes past and all my shoes yet to come, I don't think I shall ever have a better pair.

From the guy too lazy to buy a new pair of shoes for at least 2 and a half years, Mike.

Free Falling

2010-07-18T23:48:00.001-07:00

6 seconds. Imagine falling through the air for six seconds after starting out only 233 meters above the ground. 6 seconds with your heart in your feet and the wind accelerating past you at 32.2 feet per second squared. 6 seconds of death defying, whirlie-birding, stomach twisting, adrenaline rushing free falling sure enough to send any skeptic for a last minute repentance.

In the kingdom of extreme sports, Bungee jumping reigns supreme; and when it comes to doing something extreme, it's worth overdoing the extreme. In Macau, there is the worlds highest commercial bungee jump off the Macau Tower. Taller than the Eiffel Tower and the Space Needle, this is the granddaddy of jumping from high places- the colossus of columns, the titan of tumbling, the behemoth of bungee.

I arrived in Macau on the Red Eye from Taipei. My friend was working in The Venetian Casino and it was up to me to get over to see her. I took the free shuttle bus provided and was at the airport in a short five minute ride. I found the lounge bar she was working at (she was part of the lucky draw that night) and parked myself down for a few drinks while waiting for her to come out. In a few moments, she appeared and we caught up briefly about her new and exciting life in Macau. Apparently she gets free McDonald's food every day. When she got off work, I went to settle my tab but discovered all was on the house as I was friends with the ambassador of the casino! Already I felt like I won the jackpot!

The following day, I was due to meet up with my buddy from Hong Kong and his friend to do the big leap. Some crossed wires (and the fact that I didn't have a working cell phone) unfortunately meant that they did the jump while I waited for them in the lobby. Oh well! We finally caught up with each other after their jump and went out to a great little Portuguese restaurant called Francisco's. Although this place was a little out of the way, they had excellent food, Sangria, and a perfect little atmosphere to kick the night off well.

After dinner with a whole chicken, steak, sangria, espresso, and Grappa in our stomachs, it was time to hit the casino! We got The Venetian and found the lowest limit blackjack table we could find (I think it was US$25 dollars minimum bet) and prepared for a night of winning. I used all the tricks of the trade my dad taught me in black jack and, along with my two friends, we all came out in the black (or should I say in the black jack)! With everyone up about US$50 bucks, we called it quits and moved the party into the bar where we met my other friend who just got off work.

Our winnings went back into paying for the drinks, food and cigars as we lived the high life of high rollers for one great evening. With our winnings now firmly invested in our evening's entertainment, we reflected in the fact that, yes indeed, the house always wins. My friends took the ferry back to Honkers and I retired for the night to prepare for the bungee jump the following day.

I woke with surprisingly little effects from the night before, although I was a bit tired. My friend stayed in bed while I took a cab over to the tower across town. I bought my ticket and boarded the elevator to the top floor. Once I got up there, I checked in. Because I know a very smart and beautiful girl working for the company, I got a 30% discount! I made sure to get the pictures an videos as a thanks to the company and her generosity (and as a great souvenir for myself)!

After purchasing the ticket, I went and got suited up. The day was crystal clear and as such, there were a lot of a jumpers in queue. The wait to jump was about 2 hours and a lot goes through your mind in those two hours- what am I doing here? Why am I jumping? As you see all the people thrown over the edge, you really have to question your own sanity.

Finally, my turn came up. I was the last to jump in a small group of five. It's very surreal to watch people being tossed off a ledge like that. Nevertheless, this was very real. The jumping specialist chained my feet together, so I had to inch my way to the jumping platform. I felt like a prisoner being brought to his hanging execution. My heart was really pumping and I didn't make the same mistake you always see in the movies- I DIDN'T look down. In my head, there was a very big, loud voice screaming at me, "Michael, what the **** are you doing! Get the **** away from this ***** edge your ****** lunatic!!!" Pardon my french, but that little voice was really freaking out.

I finally reached the edge with every inch long step I took. The unhooked the safety harness leaving me only with the bungee cable. When they dropped the cable, the weight of it almost pulled me right off the tower. Then, before I could change my mind the countdown started.

5... Ok still time, very far away

4... I like even numbers, this is ok

3... Umm, don't you think you're counting a bit to fast?

2... Forget what I said about even numbers, I hate them, go back to 5!

1... This is the worst idea I have ever had!

Geronimo...

It took every ounce of will power to lean forward and fall off that ledge. The first two seconds I really felt like I was going to die. My knees turned to jelly, my heart was pounding faster than it ever has, the world was spinning around me, my stomach was in my throat, it was one of the worst feelings I have ever had- a feeling where you completely not in control and you are plummeting to your doom. It's also very silent at first which is tremendously eerie. But soon you start to hear the familiar sound of wind rushing past you and the deceleration slows as you reach maximum velocity. You get a handle on your environment and situation and before you long actually find yourself enjoying it. When you come to terms with the bungee, it's amazing how the worst feeling in the world quickly becomes the best feeling in the world.

Before long, you feel the tension of the bungee cord tighten and you know that the ride is almost over. The cord bounces back up where you remove the cord and they slowly lower you to the ground. When doing an extreme sport like this, scientists day that your brain floods with dopamine, the same chemical released during sex, leaving you with an immense sensation of euphoria. This is true- I couldn't stop smiling and laughing the entire way down.

For the rest of the night, I was on cloud nine. I joined the elite ranks of bungee jumpers anonymous and faced a great fear of falling off a building. It's a liberating, intoxicating sensation, and apparently it's also addictive. That's why I'm looking at other bungee jumps around the world, including one place in Indonesia where you bungee off a motorcycle.

From your free falling, whirlie birding, life betting bloke of Macau, Mike. Oh and here's a movie for you to watch!

The Martyrs Shrine

2010-07-15T05:24:00.001-07:00

They say most New Yorkers never see the Statue of Liberty even though they have lived in the the city their entire lives. Well, I have done that with a particular location in Taipei- no not Taipei 101 or Snake Alley (I checked those off my list in the first week). For three years I had not visited the Martyr's Shrine. It was something I always wanted to do but never got around to it. It finally got to the point that I would save the visit for the end of my time in Taiwan. And with D-day not too far off, I decided it was worth a visit.

I hopped on my motorcycle and drove up past the grand hotel and American Club to find the entrance to the shrine. The entrance is guarded by two guards in pristine, white uniforms with a deadpan face of seriousness. I waited a good five minutes before I saw one blink.

After the entrance, the was a long walk to the next entrance to the shrine. Once there, however, you were overtaken by the silence and solemnity of the occasion. Lovely orchids greeted you while two more guards waited patiently on the opposite end- just as serious and a lot less touristy.

The Martyr's holds the remains the those died in the revolution in Taiwan. It holds military and civilian martyrs who fought bravely for the island's independence. Here they rest peacefully and as generations come to pay their respects and swear to uphold the ideals for which they gave their lives for.

The Martyr's Shrine may not be on many people's tourist list (and is in fact not in many toursit literature as it's a bit out of the way to get to), but to those who make the extra effort, even if it takes them three years to do it, they will be rewarded with a true treasure in Taipei.

From your better late than never guy, Mike.

Back in the Hive

2010-07-08T04:25:00.000-07:00

In February, I put my life at risk for your benefit when I went to the Yuanshui Beehive Fireworks just outside of Tainan. I posted some very lovely videos of my time there and you all agreed I was certifiably insane. What shocked you even more was to know that these videos didn't present the worst of it. Therefore, I give to you for the first time ever, the world premier of the Yanshui Fongpao, aka The Beehive Fireworks!

Summer Fun

2010-06-25T20:21:00.001-07:00

Ah, the summer months in Taiwan are officially upon us! For what could be one of the worst springs weather wise in Taipei, Summer has really made up for it rather well! The days have been hot, humid, sunny and full of happiness and friends, just the way I like it!

This summer has seen many many many beach days. There are two main beaches in northern Taiwan that beckons foreigners to their sandy edges quite regularly: Baishawan and Fulong. Of course there are many other excellent beaches in Taiwan, but these two seem to be the favorites.

Getting out to Fulong is a rather long trip- about 1.5 hours if the traffic is reasonable. The ride is a summery, windy, hilly, array of fun and excitement. It takes us through Pingxi village with the old lantern festival, down into rice paddies, and out to the ocean.

Fulong beach is a fun, clean and modern beach in Taiwan. It comes with resort type changing rooms and showers. The last time we were there, we were present for the Summer Music Festival. The music was just ok, so we spent the majority of time lounging on the sand. While we were there, a movie was being filmed. It must have been some sort of Avant Garde type film, since it pretty much consisted of a goat wearing a poncho with a sign written in Chinese saying "Where are you?" It does not seem like a film I would like to go see.

Alternatively, Baishawan is another excellent beach I go to often. Last time we went, my good friend Yoyo borrowed her father's car and drove four of us up to the beach. It was a bright sunny day when we got there (except Yoyo ran a red light and got a ticket for it) and the beach was crowded with day trippers from Taipei.

We got a nice spot under a tent, and then lounged around before going for a swim. After a nice day swimming around, we enjoyed the quiet journey back into Taipei. Although I have driven that road many times, it was nice to take the car this time. I got to sit back and relax and watch the scenery go by. I don't get to do that often on the motorcycle as I am constantly on guard.

These are lovely summers with lovely people. I hope the good times continue on, even if we can't always be with each other.

From the guy who stretches right up and touches the sky, Michael.

Here's to You, Pa!

2010-06-25T20:20:00.000-07:00

Home can be a funny thing when you have been away for so long. The rearranging of the furniture, the new guests, the removal of shrubs, pools and trees, the addition of a garden, the repainting of a shed- all these things can really pull the rug out from underneath you when you're expecting certain things to stay they way they have always been. But even underneath all those changes, all those evolutions of your past, there will always be a sweet memory of comfort and belonging.

After Richard's Wedding in Taidong, I received a phone call that my last grandparent's health was failing. These things are tough, but being on the other side of the world makes them just that more difficult. I booked a flight home and was back in Boston 30 hours later, only to find out I missed my chance to say goodbye 12 hours earlier. I miss my grandfather, but I don't regret missing the chance to say goodbye. My relationship with him was not based on a goodbye. It was based on the last 25 years of being together, when I would spend the week with him as a child; when I would show him my new magic tricks and learn the good ones for his float in the July 4th parade; when he gave me my first car ever; when I would go down 2-3 times a week in high school and college to mow the law and sit and talk with him and my grandmother. I don't regret a minute of my time spent with him, and my time abroad was inspired by his love of travel and encouragement to see the world. So while I was not there for the one second at the end, I was there for the other 25 years and those are the things I think about when he comes to mind, those are the thing's I'll miss.

But in his great ways, he did one more thing for me- he got me home to see my nephew Mmamoon. The last time I saw Moons, he was just a month old and he slept quietly in my arms. Over the next year and a half he grew up not knowing who I was and that pained me greatly. But being able to see him at 1 and half years old was the greatest gift I had all year long- he was a joy in my life like none other. My grandfather brought me back to see my nephew so I could spend two wonderful weeks with him. Thanks Pa!

The two weeks home were bittersweet. Like I said- the new changes to the layout of my house was difficult. Returning back to my grandparent's home with no one there was difficult. But seeing the smile on Mmamoon's face the minute I walked in the door was one of the happiest moments of my life.

I relearned what it meant to play soccer out side. The sandbox was rebuilt for him and it was much deeper this time. We took ice cream trips (even though he couldn't even begin to comprehend how awesome the cold thing in his hand was right then and there). I went back to my pizza restaurant, my academy, my Maj Drag, to see my friends in Boston from high school and college, and all the things that define as American Mike and not Taiwan Mike. But I brought new things to the table too- I took my sister and her husband to a Taiwanese restaurant in China Town, my parents to a Dim Sum restaurant that, quite honestly, rivaled some of the fare in Honkers, and even ate at my sister's new restaurant!

The trip was an emotional slide between death and life, and all of us caught between. But like all my trips home, the greatest part was spending time with my family. My relationship with my sister and her family and my parents is something I will treasure. We were all living under one house, and while that can be stressful at times, it was really nice to see the old kitchen alive again with laughter and stories. I love my family very much and I look forward to spending time with them in the years to comes. So even as things change- no more pool, no more tree, no more bedroom- and as the faces around the dinner table come and go, some things stay the same. I have changed too- I have seen a great deal and tried many new things. My parents see me differently- they see me now as a young man that has spread his wings. Sometimes I fly high, sometimes I fly low, but in the end, I'll always fly home.

From the son in the Delta, Mike.

The Wedding in the Tropics

2010-06-06T07:52:00.001-07:00

Just after my holiday over to Malaysia, I had a great little weekend down to Taidong to celebrate the wedding of my good friend Richard Jones and his lovely bride Jo. The weekend was an excellent celebration where many friends came together to honor these two and toast to their happy new life.

The weekend really started in Taipei. On Saturday morning, about thirty foreigners congregated in Songshan Airport in Taipei prepping themselves for the ride down to Taidong. We took up the majority of the plane, or at least it felt that way, and after a short 45 minute flight we were landing in sunny, hot Taidong.

The group of us took the shuttle over to the hotel and all checked into our beautiful rooms. The afternoon was spent lying by the pool, swimming, bathing, and enjoying a generally lazy afternoon! The best men worked on their speech, the families took a swim, and the older unmarried enjoyed a beer, illegally, by the poolside.

After a splendid afternoon of doing nothing, we all returned to our apartments, showered, dressed and reconvened at the reception area for some pre-dinner drinks.

The set up was lovely and the dinner was quite nice. For those who have never been to a Taiwan wedding, the process is quite different from America. You sit at a massive table and waiters serve you about 12 courses of food (mostly seafood) and you sit and enjoy entertainment throughout the night. There are songs, dances, costume changes, jokes, stories, videos and much more. The evening is all about the bride and groom entertaining the guests more than it is about the guests coming to celebrate the bride and groom.

After dinner, everyone met outside at a local bar across the street from the hotel for an after wedding party. All the old faces were there and the revelries went well into the wee hours of the morning.

Congratulations Richard and Jo! From your very own wedding crasher, Michael!

Kuala Lumpur

2010-05-21T02:30:00.004-07:00

Kuala Lumpur. The locals call it KL. So, it might not be all it's cracked up to be in terms of originality, it does get straight to the point. I arrived in KL quite early in the morning and found the hotel where Brian was staying at. After a few nights of bushwhacking it, I was happy to revive myself in fairly modern, comfortable hotel!

Naturally, I woke up well before Brian and decided to go out and grab a quick bite for breakfast. We were staying in Little India and the area was quite bustling for that early in the morning. I popped into a little shop and grabbed a traditional Indian breakfast full of sweet curries and pounded nan-like bread.

I returned back to the hotel and caught up with Brian. The two of us made our way down to China Town to explore and compare with Singapore's China Town. KL's China Town is a bit more "working class" and rough around the edges. Less tourism, less colorful paint and a lot more vendors.

Brian and I stopped into a local cafe that was straight out of the 1940s. The cafe came complete with saloon style swinging doors, dark wood tables topped off with polished marble, and ancient memorabilia hanging on the walls. We ordered some traditional Chinese snacks including some braised pork ribs, soups, and a unique dish called the top hat. Essentially, the top hat is a taco shell in the form of a deep bowl that is shaped like a top hat. The dish comes with fillings (similar to that of a taco) and you fill you top hat with cheese, beans, lettuce, sauce, and anything else you have on the table. The result was fun and delicious.

After our lunch, I decided I wanted to try a fish massage. This is when you stick your legs into a tank full of tiny minnows and they come up and eat the dead skin off your feet and legs. The feeling is very strange. It's as if you have tiny ants walking on your legs and they have suction cups attached to the bottom of the feet (sort of like those "human flies" that try to scale tall buildings in cartoons). I am not sure the health benefits of this, as I hear the water if very unsanitary (filled with dead skin and fish excrement) so I made sure a good long show was in order next time I was home!

After the fish spa, Brian and I went to the market to buy some souvenirs for friends and family. My purchase here was a traditional Song Kok, which is essentially a beautiful felt hat that traditional Malay men wear. It was a stunning piece of craftsmanship and a treasured artifact in my Asian collection!

After walking around all day, Brian and I sat down at a small restaurant for a beer and lunch and met a very nice Burmese waitress. She invited us to a party which we said we would join her for later that evening. But first, it was time to take a nap and get ready for the night!

The evening started out with, of all things, Wiener schnitzel and imported beer. A very strange way to begin, so let's just skip that. Onto better things- the Petronas Towers. We walked over to these two iconic towers made infamous by Sean Connery and Catherine Zeta-Jones in the film "Entrapment" to marvel at their evening beauty. Lit up, they towered over the rest of KL, radiating their prominence and asserting themselves as the very definition of Malaysia.

Leaving the towers, we made our way over to the party district and after walking down a road full of bars and nightclubs, I spotted one that looked like a lot of fun. There was an indoor dance area and an outside seating area. The club was called "Beach Club: or something like that (don't quite recall the name perfectly). Nevertheless, it looked jumping and just right to match our mellow or partying moods (whatever should come of it on the inside).

When we got inside, we discovered a very strange sight- there were a lot of single, foreign girls all standing around just waiting. It didn't take much powers of deduction to reason that these ladies were working girls looking to make a buck. After some dancing, Brian and I sat down at a table and a young Vietnamese girl took a strong interest in Brian (who has a girlfriend and is very faithful, I should mention). Brian had no idea how to react to this, an I just enjoyed watching the interaction between the two of them (particularly when she tried to take his hand)!

Brian resolved the situation by announcing he was going to go dance and leaving her alone with me. We awkwardly sat there for a few minutes, not saying a word (because, really, what was there to talk about?) before we both just walked away. After some more partying, I went upstairs to the bathroom for a short break. Coming out of the bathroom I went over to wash my hands. At this time, there was a very large African woman next to me that just turned to me and said, "Shoot me!"

I looked at her and said, "Excuse me?" to which she again responded, "Shoot me!"

It was then I realized that I had my camera on me and she wanted me to take a picture of her. I told her Okay and did. She said her name was Vivian and that I should go tell my friends I have met the famous Vivian and never to forget her. Well folks, here she is, and don't you forget it!

After the club, we met the waitress again for a few drinks at the party before retiring back home for some sleep! The next day, a bit hungover but not too bad, I took off in the scorching heat to photograph some of the old, colonial KL before Brian woke up and the two of us hitched a cab out the the airport and back home to sweet old Taipei.

From your friend of the Malaysians, Indians, Chinese, Vietnamese, British, American, Burmese, and Liberian all rolled up into one little city, Michael.

Heart of Darkness

2010-05-21T02:30:00.003-07:00

To the north of Kuala Lumpur lies a dark, legendary jungle. It is a land that frightening and exotic creatures call home. A place where the bush is so dense, light can't penetrate through the leaves and only the brave, strong, and smart survive. But provided you don't go too deep into the rain forest, even a half wit like me can enjoy the splendors of Taman Negara, Malaysia's premier jungle terrain.

Arriving in the jungle you take a three hour long jungle river cruise. This is a rustic long boat with the tops right next to the water's edge. The river snakes it's course through lush tropics, revealing now and again, the wildlife she so preciously harbors.

During the course of the boat ride, we came across Monkeys, Otters, Birds and Deer.

After arriving at the docks, I checked into my hotel and made my way to the jungle itself. The interpretive trail is a a medium long trek and requires no demanding physical prerequisites. However, just coming off a climb from Mt. Kinabalu, even the short elevation changes were not welcome in the slightest. But at short clearings, I was offered some magnificent vistas far over the canopy and deep into this mysterious, sacred land.

Then I met Taman Negara's most spotted wildlife- the leech. Any visitor to this rain forest will tell you that any protection you can take against leeches really ought to be taken. As I sat down to catch a breath of water, I wiped the sweat trickling down my neck. Then I came across a big, slimy, squishy thing stuck to my body. I thought it was odd that it wasn't coming off and I had to wonder what it was. Once I pulled it off, there was this big sucker with about a tablespoon worth of my blood in it writhing around in my hand. I through it away and continued on my journey absolutely disgusted. Lesson learned- avoid low lying swamp areas if you want to sit and rest.

Along the hike, however, I came across some interesting specimens. One tree, in particular, caught my eye. The roots of the tree we very large and protruded out of the ground. They resembled massive walls and formed conical curves into the trunk of the tree. It was explained to me that if you hit one of these roots with a stick, the resulting echo is loud and carries on for quite a while. Aboriginal families on the hunt use these trees to communicate with one another to announce where they are.

Another fascinating flora was the giant bamboo. Here I am standing below it to give it scale.

After my hike, I returned back to my cabin. I showered, ate dinner and then joined up with a tour to go on a night safari. We all piled onto the back of this pick up truck (a bit primitive) and we were driven into a Palm Oil Tree Plantation. The clear night sky, the warm air rushing past me, the ominously illuminated palm trees that surrounded the secluded dirt road made me relaxed and at ease. But I was also on the seat of my pants ready to catch a glimpse of the possibly game we might see.

The safari ended with some pretty reasonable sighting. We saw leopard cats, barn owls, and pythons that, had we been anywhere outside of the truck, would have swallowed us whole. As an added bonus, I got to eat some of the palm tree nuts to taste the oil. It was very high in fiber and that is all I have to say about that.

The following day began with my raison d'etre for coming to this park: the canopy walk. A canopy walk is a massively long, massively high up suspension bridge large enough for one person to cross at a time that hangs from the tree tops giving it's viewers pristine looks on the tops of trees. The canopy walk is 400 meters long and rises 40 meters about the ground at its highest point. It's a thrilling alternative to hiking through, or should I say on top of, the jungle.

After the canopy walk, I had one of the most memorable encounters in all my time in Asia. I left the main touristy area of the jungle and took a long boat with a local guide. The guide pulled the boat up to the river bank and we made our way to the top of a small hill. Here, there lived a local aboriginal village that welcomed foreigners to view their way of life. This was about as primitive as one could get- they wore traditional clothing, lived in Tiki Huts with no electricity or running water, and hunted and gathered all their food. The people were nomadic and their village is designed to be dismantled at the drop of a hat and moved elsewhere along the river.

Upon entering the village, we were met by two young boys (the remainder of the males were off hunting). The two boys demonstrated how to make a fire with only wood and bamboo (that's right, even more primitive than flint and tinder). We were informed that the boys were not considered men until they were able to start a fire. After a few failed attempts, the two lads got it going.

Afterwards, we got blow dart lessons! The blow dart guns were made out of long bamboo reeds and were probably twice the size of me. I held out the gun, aimed it at my target, and shot my dart straight and true. It was stunning how fast the darts whizzed off and how accurate their trajectory in fact was!

After blow dart lessons, we got to fraternize with the locals a bit before heading off. Returning back, I took a bus ride home to the train station and hopped on an overnight express back to Kuala Lumpur.

From The Horror! The Horror!, Michael.

Singapore Sling

2010-05-21T02:30:00.001-07:00

Known for being one of the cleanest cities in Asia, Singapore is a country that probably takes itself a little bit too seriously. But you can't fault them for that- as a former British colony they take after mom and pop. And after bushwhacking it for two days out in the middle of Borneo, it was nice to come back to Culture for a little bit.

I've always argued that when you've been to one city in Asia, you've been to them all. But in reality, each city has some quirks that identify it as a unique and incomparable concrete jungle. Singapore had that great ring to it that really set it apart as a hip, sophisticated place in Southeast Asia. For example, our hotel room had a great view of this half naked man on the hotel roof across the way from us.

One thing that I enjoy immensely in the city is the river life. To mozy along the Seine of Paris or cross the bridges of the Thames, or switch back between Buda and Pest along the Danube of Hungary, that is the true joy of a city. Taipei lacks this central congregation of a river life. Yes, there is a river that runs through the heart of it, but it is flanked by muddy shores and tall grass. Some excellent bike paths but essentially devoid of the European bistros that light up the evening air.

Singapore has a stellar river life. The river goes right into the financial heart of the city with dazzling outdoor cafes spotted alongside. The restaurants have hawkers trying to real you in to try their middle eastern cuisine or fresh seafood. My friend Brian and I decided on a nice little Sri Lankan restaurant set on the roof of a building. To one side was the river, to the other lit monuments set in the distance, and to the final side were Singapore's enormous skyscrapers that seemed close enough to reach out and grab. I ordered a tender skewered chicken that must had been marinating for weeks before they served it to me because it was the first time a piece of meat ever actually, and pardon the cliche, melted in my mouth.

After dinner, Brian and I went to this 1920's retro wine bar. Being a Tuesday night, it was dead and we had the place to ourselves. The live band was playing and we had a 40 foot tall wine rack all to ourselves. "40 feet!" I can hear you exclaim. "But Michael, what if you wanted a wine from the top?" I am so glad you asked that. A young bar maid would dress up as an angel and get hooked into a harness and pulley system. The harness would then whisk her away as if she was floating like a real angel to bring our wine back from the heavens. It was certainly an angelic moment.

The following day, after nursing our hangovers a bit (and still getting over our sore legs from climbing) we made our way down to Singapore's Chinatown. This area was a very important location to Brian and we spent the better part of the morning checking out the old streets. Today, the majority of the shops are pasteled over and sell tacky Chinese souvenirs. This didn't interest us much as we had all this stuff back in Taiwan.

The interesting part of Singapore's Chinatown was the Cultural Center which portrayed the daily life of the Chinese immigrant. It talked about why people left mainland China for a new life in Singapore, to the hardships endured by the newly arrived Chinese. The museum finished off with a restructured 19th century style home and shop that would be typical for working class family in Singapore. The conditions were like nothing I had ever seen.

I left Brian at this point and wandered over to Little India. This little quarter of Singapore contrasts starkly against the rest of the clean, ordered city. It was busy, noisy, messy, lively, exciting, thrilling, and dangerous all rolled into one.

I stopped and got an incredible lunch filled with delightful curries, nans, and creamed cheeses that were simply to die for. I've never been to India myself, but this is precisely how I imagine it.

After Little India, I got back to the hotel and met up with Brian. I just got in from the largest electronics market in Asia. I collected my things and bid farewell to him. He decided to stay an extra day while I chose to catch an overnight train up to the rain forest in Taman Negara. I caught a cab, went through customs caught a dinner for the ride, and fell asleep as Singapore rushed passed me and the Malaysian Peninsula arrived.

From your slingy, angel drinking, Sri Lankan Chicken or the city where you could eat off the streets, Michael.

Mt. Kinabalu- On Top of Borneo

2010-05-19T19:41:00.001-07:00

Imagine this: you wake up at 1am in the morning to climb the last stretch of the tallest mountain in Southeast Asia. The sun rises revealing one of the oldest jungles in the world much like a curtain giving way to the first act of a play. The view rivals that of astronauts looking on from space. You're 13,435 feet in the air sitting on the 20th tallest mountain in the world in terms of prominence. You have to ask yourself- how did you get up here? Well, that story starts about four months prior to this one. So please indulge me as I impress upon you some less than interesting back story to set the mood.

Since coming to Asia, I have developed an unhealthy obsession with life threatening pursuits. One extreme component to that is hiking mountains over 4,000 meters tall. My first attempt was on Jade Mountain in central Taiwan. Our climb was dangerously interrupted when we found ourselves in a bit of a snow squall at the top and had to turn back. Inclement weather aside, I knew mountaineering would be a hobby of mine while residing in Asia.

A quick search showed that the tallest mountain in South East Asia is Mount Kinabalu in Borneo, Malaysia. At this height, it was a prize that had to be bagged. I sent out a message to my friends and told them that in four months time I was to fly out to Malaysia to tackle this beast and wanted to find out who would join me. Two friends heard the call and signed up along side. Two of us hit the gym every day preparing for the arduous climb that laid ahead.

We arrived in Kota Kinabalu, the undisputed capital of Borneo that boast nothing more than an interesting seaside market with waterside restaurants and lazy street strolls. The city, though small and relatively lifeless, reminded me of a Manila that was kept up slightly better. When a nasty storm rolled in, we took refuge in a small "rain forest" cafe for some light lunch. When the rain passed, the cool air and swirling cloud patterns made for a comfortable stroll along the beach front, down to through the market and finally a pleasant rest along the waterfront at a seaside bar. The night retired early as we had a big day ahead of us.

At 6am, we were up and getting ready. Our ride picked us up from our stay in Kota Kinabalu for a two hour long ride through winding mountain roads in the Kinabalu national park. The road climbed into clouds, into sun, into the jungle until the behemoth appeared. Soaring high above anything else around it, Mt. Kinabalu's unmistakable peak jutted out from the earth like an immovable giant devoted to his final resting spot. We braked at a small market for a breakfast of cakes and noodles while we mentally prepared ourselves for the climb ahead.

About 30 minutes later, we arrived at the park entrance to Mt. Kinabalu and registered like good responsible hikers. Starting at about 1,500 meters high, we still had over 2 vertical kilometers of hiking ahead of us so it came at bit of a surprise when our friend who hadn't been working out shot out like a bullet ahead of us. But for every action there is a reaction and about 10 minutes into the climb, he hit a wall (for his part, he did much better going down than me)!

The climb up was long and surprisingly steep. In comparison to Jade Mountain in Taiwan, which has a nice switchback trail system, Mt. Kinabalu was a straight up StairMaster buster of a trail with boulders to climb galore.

The trail was riddled with interesting flora and fauna, some unique only to Mt. Kinabalu. As one of the most biologically diversified ecosystems in the world, I was in a naturalist's playpen with many vibrant aviary species, flora and fauna, and my favorite, lichen (I know, I am so interesting). But the most interesting plant species we came across had to be the pitcher plant which acts quite like a Venus fly trap in that it catches it's prey in it's jaws and then releases an acidic acid to digest the insect within.

Around three PM on the first day, we reached base camp which is called Laban Rata. Surprisingly, this was an amazing accommodation with working bathrooms and showers, a three stay quality lodge with buffet dining and a magnificent lodge overlooking the land below. It reminded me of being in an old time lodge in a New England Ski resort- it was absolutely lovely. After dinner, the three of us sat on the porch viewing the sunset where we met a very good, new friend. His name was Matias from Argentina and he was out travelling in Asia on his own. We were above the clouds at this point, so we were looking out over a see of white, making out shapes in the cloud from the top looking down. There were dogs, star ship cruisers, and other delightful shapes in the stratosphere that night. It was again an early night because of the dreadfully tiring climb up to the top and because were were starting our climb the next day at 1am in the morning.

It's amazing how quickly 1am comes when you're climbing a mountain. But in the excitement of ascending to the top of the world, you aren't too groggy at that time. We woke up, had some porridge and grains to give us energy for a rather high climb ahead of us. As we donned our warmest winter clothes (preparing for near freezing temperatures so close to the equator), strapped our torches to our heads, we were on our way.

The first things you notice at this high in the middle of the jungle are the stars. Coming from a densely populated city in the Taiwan, you aren't privilege to see the stars often, so being able to watch Orion's belt circling above you brings you back to a time of childhood, when you grew up on the small suburban street far away from the bustle of the city and the stars were as common a neighbor as the family living next door.

The hike soon turned from lush tropical to what could only be described as the surface of the moon. It was a barren rock landscape that seemed to run on forever. The air was thin, the night was dark and the temperatures were cold- needless to say it was not an simple stroll. At one point, I will admit that I the thin air took it's toll. One more step felt like it was going to push me down the mountainside. I stopped, breathed slowly and drank some water. After about five minutes I regained my composure and pressed on up the mountain.

Rejoining my friends, we made the final scramble up the last few steps only to find that there was only one other person at the top of the world with us- Matias!

Over the far end of the horizon, the faintest tint of light barely separated the edge of the earth from the sky. The sun was still about an hour away from making an appearance, leaving the found of us on the tip top of the summit to take in the dazzling sky show and the sense of accomplishment that we climbed Southeast Asia's highest mountain.

Before long, the quiet light slowly intensified, like God was gently turning on the dimmer light over Borneo. Jagged clouds formed in the distance and smaller peaks were taking form along the ground. As the dark images eschewed themselves, our sense of height really made itself clear- we were looking down from space.

As we began our descent, the dark barren wasteland of the climb up revealed itself to be a rocky playground, a moonscape of indescribable formations that seemed out of this world. It was sharp and ragged at its finer details, but also flowing and smooth in a grander sense. The mountain revealed herself to be striking and staunch, everything we had hoped.

Before climbing this behemoth, we had a decision to make on how we wanted to get down. I suggested something called the Via Feratta, or Iron Road, to get down and my friends immediately jumped at the opportunity with me. The Via Feratta is a essentially an obstacle course that goes down a cliff side starting at 3,800 meters high (which, for those of you keeping score at home, officially makes it the worlds tallest Via Ferrata).

Imagine this, you're in a harness, hooked onto some wires (barely) and shimmying your way down a vertical cliff side above a tens of thousands foot free fall. The adrenaline is pumping as one wrong move would give you the fright of a lifetime. The obstacle course took us along ridges, over the world's highest suspension bridge (that's right, if you want to see the world's highest, you have a bit of a climb ahead of you), down straight edges, through jungles, over rocks, and everywhere in between. All the while, there is a massive free fall between you and the ground 3 vertical kilometers below you. At least you would have plenty of time during the fall to review your improper footing and determine just where you went wrong.

At the conclusion of the Via Ferrata, we regrouped for lunch at the "resort" and began our long trek down the mountain side to civilization. For those that think going down is easier than going up- you are dead wrong. I have never been in so much pain in my entire life as I was going down that mountain side- there must have been at least ten differently succinct pains running through my body. But persevere I did and in five short hours I made it back. We received our certificates of completion, slept for the two hour car ride back to Kota Kinabalu, got some delicious dinner at a local canteen and finished it off with a foot massage at a local shop to heal our aching feet/calves/thighs.

From your acrobatic swinger high above the clouds in the land of Borneo- Michael.

A Photoessay of Motorcycle Trips

2010-04-18T07:37:00.001-07:00

I would like to share with you some photography taken on some recent motorcycle trips taken throughout my last few months in Taiwan. And yes, photo essay is just another term for "I'm too lazy to write anything". Enjoy!

A View from the Top of Pingxi

Fish Market near Toucheng

Jessica and Katelin Practice Kungfu near Kwan Yin Dripping Water Cave

Jessica and Katelin break for Lunch at the Graffiti Wall

Katelin Looking Out over the Pacific Ocean from Jinshan

A Wedding at the Golden Waterfall

Steve Contemplates his Life's Direction While Looking Really Cool

Steve Looking out Over Baishawan Beach

A Sea of Clouds Settles over Northern Taipei

The Northern Cross Island Highway

2010-03-23T20:11:00.000-07:00

Taiwan is crossed by three main arteries from East to West. On my major bike ride around the island, I did the entire Southern Cross Island Highway and half of the Central Cross Island Highway, but I did not even touch the Northern Cross Island Highway. I had been planning to do the Northern with my friend Steve on a weekend trip only to find out he already did it... in a day! Not to be outdone by my good friend/ arch nemesis, I decided I would have to take off for the Northern as well.

I woke up early on a Saturday morning and put all my essentials into one basket. I got my atlas of Taiwan, water, locks, rain jacket, gloves, helmet, snacks and a hunger for the open road. I went downstairs to the local Taiwanese breakfast joint near my house and ordered my Zwa Bing and hot tea, per usual before a bike trip. I chatted briefly with the shop keep about what I was intending on doing that day, and like all Taiwanese, she thought I was crazy. I'm used to that by now.

Well, the sun was coming out and I put on my gear, revved up my bike and headed south toward Xindian. I followed route 110 down to Sanxia, which is a quaint and delightful little drive if I have ever seen one! After reaching Sanxia, it was a quick turn over to route 3 and finally route 7 and the start of the Northern Cross Island Highway.

Immediately starting out, there is an offramp that goes into a nature park. It seems to follow the river a bit and had I more time, I would probably explore that pathway. But continue on the road I did and my views weren't spoiled by that missed turnoff. The river waves and the road turns around bends and cliff sides, climbing through small towns before entering the mountains completely.

The Northern Cross Island highway begins in Dasi, not far from Taoyuan really and a great day trip for those interested. Home to some quaint old streets and traditional Taiwanese snacks, this was a delightful starting point to my journey into the tip of the central cordillera. Dasi is also quite close to Chiang Kai Shek's burial place, and momument sprawling with visitors and tourists alike. Going past this little momento of presidents gone by, the traffic let up tremendously leaving me on a small, one lane road in Taiwan. Hardly a highway by any stretch of the imagination.

At this point, you are squarely in the mountain range of central Taiwan, and there is no turning back. Here and there, the trip is paused for a roadside picture or a little hut with food. My favorite picture spot was at this enormous purple bridge, just next to an antique, pedestrian red suspension bridge. Shortly after, I too found a nice little hut on the side of the road worthy of stopping for a baozi and fried rice.

The afternoon saw no rain and plenty of sunshine. The air was dry and cool, a nice change for Taiwan indeed! The road went high and low, left and right, upside down and inside out before finally stretching out into Ilan. At this point I was basically home free as I have driven to Ilan on many occasion before. After take a break to rest my sore butt, I climbed back on and drove back into the rolling mountains and tea plantations of Pingling.

A full, 6-8 hour bike ride at least (with minimal stopping) but one that should not be passed up by any motorcyclist living in the Taipei area. A simple, elegant and entertaining ride with little technical difficulties. From your man in the clouds, biker of the North, Michael.

Tuesdays On the House

2010-03-17T19:51:00.001-07:00

While taking Chinese lessons two hours every day Monday through Friday, I found spending time with friends during the week a rare occurrence. Maybe a late evening here or there, or the occasional typhoon day allotted some moments to meet up. But it wasn't until I finally stopped studying full time that I found a more balanced schedule to study, work, exercise, and be with friends.

One special day of the week for me is Tuesday night, when two friends of mine, Jessica and Katelin, join me at my apartment to watch the most recent episode of House, MD. I am not much of a TV watcher and this is in fact the only show I watch, so it's nice to share this common interest with two good friends.

Well, the midseason pause came up and without a new show to occupy our interests each week, we decided that we should go out and try a different restaurant instead. Our culinary explorations took us to new and exciting eateries throughout town. We have frequented the posh and ultra hip People Restaurant and Lounge where you need to stick your hand in a hole to open the door. We have had the famous noodles of a Tainan noodle maker. We have dined in some traditional "little eats" restaurants around town, including the one near my apartment, Din Tai Fung, and most recently a Dim Sum restaurant close to the colorful combat zone (for Dr. Jessica). And last Tuesday night we stayed in and failed miserably at trying to make our own dumplings from scratch!

This Tuesday will mark the final dining excursion of this intrepid trio as Jessica will be heading for colder climates back in NYC. We intend to embark on a small bike ride to the tea plantations just south of the city in Maokong. With Tea Fried Rice, the best tofu you could ever hope for and views of downtown Taipei that are unmatched, it will be a fitting sendoff and proper finale to our Tuesday night gatherings.

From your Tuesday night fatso, Michael.

The Beehive Rockets

2010-03-04T07:24:00.001-08:00

Ever year on the Lantern Festival in a small town just north of Tainan called Yanshuei, local residents pour into the streets to fire rockets. No, this isn't a centuries old feud or a localized war zone, it's just an ancient remedy for healing the blues. In modern times, the celebration is used to ring in the final days of the Chinese New Year celebration. In Taipei, sky lanterns are released into the heavens while in Yanshuei it's a free-for-all rocket extravaganza bound to wake up the neighbors. In the next city over.

Eight intrepid volunteers, not quite understanding what we were in for, congregated at 7.30am outside Taipei Main Station on a Sunday morning ready to board a bus that would take us to the other side of the island. Coffees in hand, The China Post folded squarely under our arms, we hopped aboard and set forth on a five hour bus ride to Yanshuei. We arrived in the town just a little after noon, with still enough time to explore this unique village.

Yanshuei's fortunate proximity to Taiwan's former capital, Tainan, allows this village to boast some truly extraordinary architectural relics. We were able to tour some splendid homes, venerable temples, and one unique and antiquated "old street".

This old street was a short but windy stretch of cobblestone street lined with wooden structures dating back hundreds of years. Some were opened to the public with old fashioned Chinese goods decorating the inner halls. The highlight was a still functioning blacksmith that was out on the street producing his wares for onlookers to witness.

Around the corner was a unique structure- a mansion house of sorts made entirely of wood. The layout of the grounds reminded us of a wooden temple. Inside housed some contemporary and classical Chinese art which made for a rather surreal experience.

The city itself was lined with quaint old buidlings mixed with modern ones, making for some rather pleasant strolls around town. The temple of Guan Gong was perhaps the most densely populated with worshippers coming from all walks of life to pray. The temple was decorated with bright, warm colors, while heavy looming incense burned through the air.

But the lighthearted strolls through the city were suddenly halted with a preminisence of things to come- a rare glimpse into what was to be displayed later in the evening. As we were walking, we noticed a group of people bunching into a tented area taking pictures and murmuring amongst themselves. We walked up to the crowed and peered into the canopied structure: inside we finally saw our first Beehive Rocket Structure.

As far as beehive rockets go, this one would be considered small to medium sized. It's height was about one "me" and a half, and it's length was roughly equivalent to that of a car. It had about 15 or 20 rows of little rockets stacked neatly next to one another. All in all, there were thousands of rockets on this contraption. All we could do was look at this and say, they're gonna shoot those at us? What?

Oh, right, did I forget to mention that the rockets are shot at the crowds rather than up in the sky? That's an important detail and I think it should be mentiond. Yes, these little puppies are lit on the tail end and then go buzzing into the jumping spectators and burn, srape and explode all over the crowd. That is why we were instructed to bring safety equipment with us.

As the sun was setting and the festivities were starting, we returned back to the bus to don our evening armor. We had to wear a non flammable winter jacket (in 90 degree heat no less), a full faced helmet with a towel fastened around our neck, gloves, long pants, and shoes. Not a millimeter of skin was exposed. Dressed like knights, we strolled into the starting gates where waterfalls of fireworks were raining down. My friend and I danced back and forth through what was probably melted iron as far as we knew, until finally the first bee hive rocket appeared.

As the fuse was lit, everyone started jumping up and down. Initially I thought this was to prevent rockets from hitting you head on. (For some strange reason when rockets are being fired at you, your initial reaction is to jump up and down.) But actually, the jumping is part of the history of the festival. In years gone by, namely in the middle ages, southern Taiwan was struck with the plague. With no proper medicine to handle the epidemic, the local townspeople resorted to explosives. In what I can only imagine to be a primitive display of bombs going off around the locals, the idea was to jump up and down and shake out the bad spirits causing the plague. Evidently the ritual was a success and the bad spirits are warded off annually with loud noises and TNT.

Well, the festival began. Not knowing what was going on, and thousands of Taiwanese jumping around me, I had no choice but to jump along with them. And without warning, along came the rockets. They whizzed by me, sounding like a firefly pumped up on amphetamines and PCP. On rather frequent instances, the rocket would land on you and, what do rockets do? They explode! So, you would be standing there, crammed in with jumping Asians, dressed in full winter gear in the summer heat being bombarded by rockets exploding all around you. It was easy to lose your orientation and just wonder how you got in the predicament you were in. Realization soon came upon you that retreat was impossible.

After a minute or so of this barrage, the crowd went on the move. Essentially the crowd would parade through the streets and anticipating shop keeps would bring out their beehive rocket cages and fire upon the crowd. After some aimless parading, the mob came to a halt. At this point, people set off loud firecrackers in the streets while the firework waterfalls went off in two separate locations. It's as if they were corralling us into a ranch like cattle. Well, after about fifteen minutes of these boomers going off, a silence fell upon a crowd. And then, with much suspense, an enormous garage door opened slowly and the darkly lit room inside did not reveal what was in store. The crowd watch on in hushed anticipation, as if King Kong himself were to come storming out and wreak havoc on the streets. But the reality was much worse.

From the depth of the shadows emerged a contraption so large, so complex, it put all notions of previous beehive fireworks to shame. There, parting the crowd in two, stood a beehive firework box the size of a mac truck, loaded with tens of thousands of rockets aim directly at us. Being only about ten feet away from the behemoth I knew I was in for a dangerously close encounter with the beast. If this thing couldn't ward off the bad spirits, I don't know what could.

What followed was a good twenty minutes of continued rockets flying, bouncing, exploding and all of the above all around you. This puppy was the reason my body was covered in bruises and burns when the night was out. It finished with an impressive firework display of setting off even larger rockets into the night sky. After a good half hour of this, and drenched in sweat, we decided a recuperation period was needed to nurse the wounds inflicted by this behemoth. Speaking of injury, perhaps the most interesting was one rocket found it's way up into my friend's helmet and burnt a little hole in his hair!

At this time, we met up with another friend who wisely slept in and took a train down to meet us. We put on our gear, caught back up with the parade, and jumped with the best of them. The remaining rocket cages ranged in sizes from a refrigerator to a compact car; but each one placed one hell of a punch. It should be noted in the photos that some of our clothing obtained small burned holes. One interesting anecdote was came after a particularly close encounter with a set of rockets. As I was walking away, my friend started patting the back of my head. I asked him what he was doing and he said my back was on fire. I told him to continue putting it out. As he was doing this, someone was behind him patting him on the head too. Turns out he was on fire as well!

The night was a complete riot of an evening. It was like bombs were going off at every turn. Sometimes fireworks would misfire and explode in the street, and those really smart when they hit next to you. Ambulances were going off all night, and we stopped counting after ten. But I think the most remarkable aspect of the evening was that, in a town with such historical old buildings all made of wood, it's a wonder that it hasn't burned down yet.

From your plauge shaking, pyro blasting, fire smoking beehive rocket knight of Yanshuei, Michael.

The Year of the Tiger

2010-03-02T06:11:00.000-08:00

It is effect- ively my third Chinese New Year here in Taiwan. It also marked probably the worst week of weather I have ever seen. First- everybody didn't have to work this week except me. Second- everybody left Taipei so I was stuck in this city by myself. And third- It was nothing but downpours of rain, constantly, 24 hours a day, every day of the week. It was the Perfect Storm.

But the cold weather outside wasn't indicative of the warmth celebrated with my family for the second year in a row over in Banciao. I met up with Yuhsin's sister, her parents, brother and sister-in-law and their new daughter Jacqueline, and her two neices whom I absolutely adore. The evening started nice enough- I arrived just in time for dinner. On the menu was the whole fish (which is not eaten) white carrots, jellyfish, chinese coldcuts like sausage and fisheggs, bamboo and turnip soup, etc. I tried it all and they were delicious.

After dinner, we retired to the living room where we played a dice and punishment game. (Taiwanese love punishments! Basically, you can't just "lose" a game, you have to be punished as well.) The game was played simply, there were a set of die underneath a bowl and only one person knew the number underneath. The rest of the group had to guess numbers and whoever guessed the number was punished. Basically, if you won, you really lost! For the punishment, there was a box with a number of compartments- think ice tray. Then on top of this ice-tray like box was a paper covering. You poked through the paper and inside the compartment was a piece of paper containing your punishment. The punishments consisted of varying degrees of tourture- including giving massages, pushups, and smelling baby diapers.

After the punishment game, we broke out the karaoke. I impressed everyone which my only Chinese song I can karaoke which is called "Freedom" in Chinese. There was also a deck of card so we played some card games and I dazzled the youngsters with my magic tricks.

Chinese New Year culminates about 15 days after the new year celebration with the Lantern Festival. Every year, Sun Yat Sen Memorial Hall and City Hall host a number of lantern sculptures to ring in the new year. This year the theme was, of course, the tiger and the lantern sculptures resprestend that.

In the center of the sculpture gardens is a giant tiger which lights up, spins and goes along with music. The tiger, cartoonish in nature, is giving the thumbs up. When first conceived, however, the angles on the hand were a bit misleading and it appeared that instead of the tiger giving a thumbs up, it looked like it was flipping the bird. As an event for families, the sculpture was of course revised.

Alas, thus culminates my third Chinese New Year in Taiwan. I have to say, this was probably the best one yet. Although, it could have been made better had my cousins Stevie and Yuhsin, and their daughter Tia come as well. From your rrrrrrrroooooooooaaaaaaarrrrrrr, Michael.

Charlie and the Dumpling Factory

2010-02-26T22:59:00.001-08:00

When you think of the signature voice, you think of Frank Sinatra. When you think of signature cigars, you don't think too far from Havana. Now, when you think of signature Chinese cuisine, if your in Asia, think Din Tai Fung. I have written numerous posts about the quality and scrumptious taste of their dishes, so I don't need to get into that in too much detail. Instead, today I got a first hand glimpse of the behind the scene magic that goes into each and every dumpling.

I arrived at the primary store in Taipei and met up with the owner of the company. Along with two other American girls (relatives of the owner) and the CEO of Burger King (bizarre, I know), we piled into his private car and were chaufeurred over to the central kitchen in Yonghe, about 30 minutes away.

Upon arriving at the central kitchen, we were promptly shown into the small temple in the office where we briefly prayed, in Chinese called "bai bai". After which, we donned masks, hairnets, boots, and smocks that made us look like we were being prepared for a tour of a nuclear facility rather than a food factory.

Our first stop was the dumpling room. Actually, the first stop was the disinfecting room leading into the dumpling room. Only two people were allowed into this room which was essentially a giant vaccum cleaner followed by a sink adjacent to a disinfectant pool. If we weren't clean already, we were now!

We then entered into the dumpling room where we saw the doughs rolled and the meats packed. It was like watching a dream come true, seeing all these dumplings at once.

After that it was over to the noodle room. The owner doesn't trust other noodle makers to make his noodles for him, so he makes his own!

Here are some more shots from around the factory, including shipping, basket storring, meet preparation, EVA Airline preparation, and specialty prep.

A man who believes in cleanliness was present all day. The factory had more cleanliness regulations than you could imagine and you can rest easy knowing you are getting the cleanest, freshest food possible when eating at Din Tai Fung. From your golden ticket holder, Michael.

Surfin' Bird

2010-02-18T16:50:00.001-08:00

I have never surfed before, but I have wanted to try it for a long time. Taiwan is home to some of the best surf in the world and as a result, boasts some really excellent surfing communities all around the island. For those in Taipei, there is no better day trip for surfers than to Ilan on the western coast.

The timing was right before a typhoon which always guarantees large breaks. But for someone's first time on a board, this was perhaps not such a good thing. I went with three Taiwanese buddies of mine down to Ilan at 7am in the morning. We got to a little surf shop and rented our boards. I seem to be out of touch with surfer lingo and have no idea what nicknames surfers use to call their boards, but it was gnarly.

We got down to the beach and I got a five minute introduction on how to use my board, in Chinese, before I was sent off to tackle the waves. I decided that it was best to approach this day in stages. I have been boogey boarding before, so I thought I should spend my first set riding the waves in on my stomach. It was tough at first catching a break and timing it just right to allow me to ride the wave in all the way, but it wasn't long before I got the hang ten of it.

My next time out I decided that it would be a good idea to try and stand up. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. Each time I tried to hoist myself up on my surfboard, I immediately fell off into the ocean. But not to worry, I collected my board and tried, tried again. About my hundreth attempt I finally got up on the board, rode for about two seconds and fell off. I figured now I was ready to take it off the beach and into the ocean. Just kidding, I really did surf!

We took a short break and played a pick up game of volleyball with some other surfers before going back out into the ocean. It was at this time that some guy walked by missing an entire eyeball, and instead geisers of blood were gushing out of ocular socket. Turns out he was hit in the head by another surfer and that was about time I decided to retire from the great sport.

After leaving the beach, we went into town to get some good beach food before we dashed off back home. From your bird, bird, bird, bird is the word oh well a oh well a did you know about the word, surfin bird, Michael.

The Underground River

2010-02-09T21:00:00.001-08:00

I just recently returned back from my third encounter with the Phili- ppines. My first take on the country was in Legazpi, where I swam with whale sharks, camped on one of the world's most dangerous volcanoes and explored the black sand beaches of Santo Domingo. My second trip took me to the ancient rice terraces of Banaue where I was offered a rare glimpse into traditional Filipino life, with some villages only accessible by a two hour hike in the jungle. My third and most recent journey took me to Palawan, an island in the southwest part of the Philipines, which contains a UNESCO World Heritage site known as the Subterranean River. Quite simply it is an 8.2 kilometer long river that runs underground and empties into the ocean. But I am getting ahead of myself.

I arrived early in the morning in Manilla- 3.00am to be precise. By the time I got through customs and raced through Manilla in my taxi (Manila after 3.00am is a very interesting place to be), it was already almost 5am before I plopped down in my hotel. It was a late start the next day, but I got through my work and before long, evening had arrived and I had a date with a friend.

I took a taxi over to Burgos Street where I met a friend of mine. She is the girlfriend of my friend here in Taiwan, but she is currently living in Manila. We had a few drinks at this nice little open air bar before we had some tasty Filipino barbecue. Afterward, she took me to a bar recommended by our mutual friends in Taipei, and offered me this warning- don't buy any of the girls drinks. Fair warning, I thought, but why was it necessary? Necessary, because she took me to a go-go bar where half naked women dance on a stage and, if the price is right, you can take bar fine her for the evening. I required my friend to stay by my side for the entire evening to keep up appearances that she was "with" me to prevent any of the girls coming over to ask for a drink commission. What can I say, I'm a shy guy. The plan worked and despite the seedy environment, it was actually a really fun night of bar hopping and catching up.

The next day, I took the afternoon off and spent some time around the old Spanish fort in downtown Manila. I have to say- this quarter of the city has completely refurbished my impression of Manila. I began by exploring the fort which is the original part of Manila. From here you could see where the city developed its roots.

The fort itself is a unique antiquity, an anachronistic Spanish citadel in a modern Southeast Asian city. The fort came complete with large, blasting cannons, dungeons, historical buildings, and a modern golf course. That's right, should you fancy the back nine after some historical touring, you can hit up the golf course which winds its way through the moats and barracks of living history.

One of the most interesting components of this of this area was the vantage point it provided of surrounding Manila. Manila is a city of extremes with the amazingly rich and the destitute living side by side. From here, I could see the skyscrapers of the wealthy nestled within the slums of Manila.

After the fort, I shot over to one of the more famous Cathedrals in Manila called San Augustin Church. The artwork in this monastery-now-museum and the religious relics preserved here rival any of the artwork I have seen lavishly displayed in Europe. The craftsmanship of the pieces, the architecture of the church and the overall design of the grounds were truly inspiring.
Unfortunately, I didn't have much more than 30 minutes to linger as I had a plane to catch and this was one flight I was not intending to miss. You see, this flight would result in the final destination I had wanted to visit since first planning my trip to the Philippines three years ago.

My flight, after a 30 minute delay, arrived in Peurto Princesa, Palawan- a long sliver of an island located in the southwest hemisphere of The Philippines. Coming out of the airport, I took a tricycle to my hotel, and then off to dinner at a surprisingly fancy restaurant by suggestion of my driver. However, I am glad I did as this place is actually constructed out on the ocean and connected to land by a long gangplank. The menu served up fine Filipino and western meals and you could top it all down with buko- a young coconut with a hole cut through the top and a straw inserted so you could get at the sweet waters inside.

The following morning was an early one for me. After my complimentary Filipino breakfast of sweet pork, I made my way to the bus station. Today, Palawan is quickly becoming a popular tourist destination and so the most popular method of getting to the underground river is by planned guide. I think this takes the fun out of the adventure and I had no intention of taking a guided tour. Once at the bus station (actually, more like a field in a jungle) I found out that the next jeepney to the Underground River was departing at noon. Seeing it was 8.30am, and a bus was leaving at 9am, I figured that was the best way to go.

When the bus arrived, surprisingly on time, I had two options- I could ride on the roof with the cargo or be seated inside the bus on one of the hard wooden benches. Seeing as I didn't have any sun screen with me, I optioned for the inside. I plopped down next to a window, ensuring a breeze would come my way, and waited patiently for the bus driver to take off.

At about 9.45, we finally pulled out of the station to a restaurant across the street. The bus driver and crew all got off the bus, loaded cold drinks onto the bus, enjoyed a beer themselves, and then hopped back on. Only again to drive across the street and into the gas station to fill up. It was starting to get ridiculous. But the Filipinos on board were patient enough. In fact, there I was stashed into this bus complete with all sorts of locals. Families traveling back from the "city", children taking live chickens back to the farm, all walks of life.

The bus is known as a Christmas Tree Bus because of all the things that are packed on top of it, resembling a Christmas Tree. During the ride, "ornaments" from the xmas tree kept falling off and the bus would have to stop, pick it up, pack it up, and continue on. I was dreading this bus ride a bit because were taking what was known as the "abortion road"- a road so bumpy and unpaved that it was nicknamed as such for the free abortions it resulted in. I always thought this was a funny name considering The Philippines is so intensely Catholic. I was relieved to discover that this road was recently paved, making what should have only been a 9o minute drive into a four hour tour with my new family.

I arrive at around 1pm in Sabang- the harbouring port and jumping off point for the Underground River. I spent a few minutes lounging on the white sand beaches watching the waves roll in, sipping on my coconut juice straight from a coconut itself. It wasn't long before I got my permit and took off for the river. There are two ways to get there- you can either hire a boat or hike over there. Seeing as I was in no hurry, despite the very long bus ride there, I opted for the hike instead. It was a little bit difficult finding the trail head and at one point, I had to recruit a local family to paddle me through the mangroves to the start of the trail.

I finally made it to the Jungle Trail route and began my final leg to this promised destination. It was a two hour hike along the ocean side, through the jungle and up mountanious terrain. But the greatest part was the end when you had to traverse this rickety old platform through this maze of sharp, jagged rock. At the bottom, it let out to the mouth of the cave where I waited for a boat to come.

I joined a group of Filipinos who quickly became my good friends! We got into the boat and our tour guide paddled us into the cave. We went in about 2 kilometers and experienced the most amazing underground river in Asia. This cave was home to bats, stalagmites and stalagtites in the shape of religious personage, and some of the most awe-inspiring cavernous areas I have ever seen. I was really surprised at how large it was inside, and how wide the river was. It took me some time to realize that I was on a boat, underground!

We came out of the cave thus finishing our tour. I got the contact information of my new friends and we still keep in touch about our journey to the Underground River. But we soon parted ways and before we knew it, I was stuck two hours away from the pier, bloody tired and in no mood to hike back. I paid a longboatman 200 pesos to stow me away on one of his ferries back, which he did and I met some more very nice people. In fact, I met one nice guy that was a talent manager in the Philippines. I think he gave my contact information to one of his friends because I got an e-mail a few days later saying hello!

When I got back to Sabang, I found out that there were no more busses or jeepneys back to Puerto Princesa leaving me stranded in Sabang. Obviously, this was not good! Fortunately, there were lots of tour groups hanging around and after some begging, I was able to hitch a ride back with one, again meeting some really great people along the way. One common sentiment all my new friends that day shared was- they couldn't believe I was traveling alone. But I enjoy traveling alone as it really allows you to engage in conversation with lot's of people- meet the locals so to speak. Had I not gone alone that day, I would not have made such excellent friends!

Back in Puerto Princesa, I went out to eat at a local canteen called Kinabuch's. This restaurant has a lot of local and foreign specialies, but there were two things that caught my eyes! The first was a pint of draft San Miguel beer was only 35 pesos, or the equivalent of 75 cents! The second was their specialty- Ceviche Woodworm Mollusk. Essentially, this is a plate of long, raw woodworms served with a dish of vinegar.

With a strong stomach, I twirled one of the worms around my fork like past and dipped it into the vinegar. In doing so, it came unravelled and when I pulled it out, it was dangling down. I lifted it high above my head and tail end first, I lowered it into my mouth. It was terrible. It tasted like I was eating oolong noodles prepared with dirt. I washed down the worm with my cheap and necessary beer and then called it a night.

The following day I decided to do some island hopping. I got on the tour this time as tours were absolutely needed for the island hopping. We did some excellent snorkeling along a stunning coral reef, laid in the sand on white sand beaches, took up sun, swimming, bbqing and really just unwound as the sun and splash made for one of the nicest, most relaxing days I have had in a long time.

The prepared food was to die for, which is odd for the Filipino cuisine. There were green mangos, pork, fresh fish, plantanes, roasted eggplants- all served along the ocean front. Here you can see the food being prepared.

And here is the presentation!

Getting back to Peurto Princessa, I went to the local market where I was sure to purchase my favorite filipino snack- bananaque (fried sweet bananas), then hopped on a plane back to Manila where I caught a connecting flight back to Taipei.

It was a short weekend trip, but it was a great thing for the state of mind. From your river riding spelunker in Palawan, Michael.

One Hundredth Post

2010-02-07T18:12:00.001-08:00

This is my one hundredth post! It seems like only yesterday I arrived in Taiwan- an eager youth in his prime ready to tackle on the greatest curve balls Asia had in store for me. Now, almost three years later, I am reflecting on 100 vignettes that I have decided to share with you about my time in Taiwan.

I have never been one for clip shows, so I would like to give you some suggested reading instead. Here are my top ten favorite blog postings that I have made over the last third of a decade. Happy reading!

Bugs on the Teeth- Here in my first fews days in Taiwan, I found myself very lost on the streets of Taipei. It wasn't long before a friendly Taiwanese man came up to me and offered me a ride home. He plopped me on the back of his scooter and before long I was zooming around Taipei in my first ever scooter ride. I knew then I had to get me one of those babies!

One Squid, Two Squid- Ah, my first adventure down to Taroko National Park and Hualien. What an adventure! But the real fun came as the sun set and my friends, Kate and Tony, and I creatively spent the better part of an hour disposing of squids we never wanted. It should be noted that squid balls are processed calamari in the shape of a ball, not a mollusk's reproductive organ!

A Regular Thursda y Night- A war zone? Not quite but almost. I got to ring in the Chinese Lantern Festival with a bang, literally, as I went out into a free-for-all fireworks bash that shook buildings, set off fireworks and even sent some folks to the ER. As these videos show, there were some close calls!

Whitewater-Ho! We saved the lives of these whitewater rafters and it was almost as if we got shafted for doing so. Well, at least I got the whole thing on video. Please forgive my shaking video taping, it was half capturing the event half heroic deeds!

The Good Concert- I spent one marvelous weekend with World Vision, the company for which I taught English Private Lessons, down in Sun Moon Lake. We toured aboriginal villages, explored butterfly gardens and the lake itself, and I even gave a speech at the benefit concert itself. But the best part was the private tour of the organic tea farm!

The Bridge on the River Kwai- History and excitement abounded for me on my first trip to Thailand! While it was difficult to choose one specific part of that amazing two week journey into the land of smiles, I decided on my time in Kanchanaburi where I posed with tigers, rode elephants, and saw the death railway. If you have time, be sure to check out my other posts on Thailand too!

The Crazy Lady Returns- I don't think any story I have quite compares to the strangeness and creepiness of the Crazy Lady on my balcony. I also don't think anyone quite sums up Taiwan's quirkiness quite like her as well! I have to say, though, thanks for the dinner!

The Rice Te rraces of Banaue- There is nothing I love more than vacationing in the Philippines. I love the people, the scenery, and increasinly Manilla. Here I took off to the 2,000 year old rice terraces on the northern edge of the country. Truly my favorite place to be.

The Din Tai Fung Club- I don't think I will take away a greater memory than all the joy, happiness and dumplings I have had at Din Tai Fung. I have made strong and lasting friends at this restaurant and I hope to maintain these friends for all my life to come.

A Man and His Mortorcycle Part 4- I don't think I can say with utmost certainty that I preferred any leg of my motorcycle trip around the island more than another part, but when push comes to shove, the trip over the mountains on the Southern Cross Island was like nothing I have ever seen before. A trip of a lifetime!

Here's to another 100 posts that comprise the big and small moments making up what I call my life on this island. From your David Letterman counting down in the Far East, Michael.

Pam Does Asia!

2010-01-31T03:53:00.001-08:00

Where to begin! Seriously, I have no idea. I have always prided myself on packing in as much as I could into a vacation, but when my mom visited me in November, 2009, I think I really outdid myself. We both spent the entire vacation eating eating eating and traveling traveling traveling. Enough so that the latter outdid the former and we came away from the two weeks lighter than going into them. Well, there's no way to cover EVERYTHING we did in this fortnight, so it's best to hit the highlights!

After viewing some of the necessary components to Taiwan, like Taipei 101 and the golden mountains of Jioufen and Jinguashi, I decided it was time to introduce my mom to some of, not all of, the tea in China. After a day at the zoo seeing the pandas, we took a taxi up a mountain side into the Maokong Tea Houses. I took her to my favorite restaurant, Da Cha Hu, or Big Teapot, which boasts fine tea, excellent cuisine, and stunning views of downtown taipei from a mountainside.

We ordered a local brew, to compliment our foods. While we waited for our meals to arrive, I introduced my mom to the delicate art of pao cha, or brewing tea. After some sips of this intoxicating blend, our first course arrived- tea fried rice! An absolutely mindblowing combination of dried tea leaves and fried rice, this is something that has never been tasted before or since. The second course was some tofu braised nicely in a brown sauce. The tofu was simply terrific- it was like eating diced cream. A nice side order or greens grown in the restaurant's own yard before the main course- the San Bei Ji which translates to Three Cups Chicken. The chicken is served in a sizzling hot plate mixed with herbs, spices, tea, and more ingredients than I could pick out.

Our second culinary treat came just a few days later at a familiar yet special restaurant- Din Tai Fung. This was extra special because my uncle, who was living in Taichung at the time, came up with his wife Clare to join us for dinner. And what made it even more special was that we had reservations to dine with the owner of Din Tai Fung himself.

The evening was a smash! We all sat around the table wining and dining on scrumptious Xiao Long Bao, shrimp Xiao Mai, hot and sour soup, chicken soup, and so much more. The finest array of Chinese food in all of Asia, with the finest company in all the world. After, the owner invited my Uncle and his wife, along with my mother and me, back to his place for a digestif. We sat around the living room, eating imported hams and cookies from Japan, sweet delicious fruits from the mountains of Taiwan, and rich wine from the heart of Bordeaux.

The following day, I took my family to the national palace museum after a delicious greasy bread breakfast. We spent the morning and early afternoon browsing some of the finest examples of chinese art and literature in the world, kept safe during the communist revolution in China. But our time at the museum was short lived as my mother and I had a plane to catch to Honkey town!

That night, as a birthday gift to my mom, we boarded a plane and took off for three days to Hong Kong. We arrived late at night, so after getting in from the airport, we decided it was best to head straight to bed. The next day was an early rise as we took the Star Ferry from Kowloon to Central for some Dim Sum at my favorite little dim sum restaurant. A bit out of the way, but worth it. Then it was up the Peak Tram to the top of Victoria Peak. We were the on a particularly clear day, so all of Victoria Harbor and Kowloon was in fine view. We took a stroll around the mountain (about three kilometers) and then sat for a late afernoon drink on the lookout peak.

Then, it was back up to the flying wok at nighttime for some stunning views of the harbor at night. We took a taxi back down the mountain side, got over to the Kowloon side, and set up shop along the harbor to watch the Symphony of lights where they light up the buildings and synchronize them to music on the central side.

The following day, a little bird called out to us- Macau! Macau! So we hopped on the ferry and took a boat over to Macau for the day. Just our luck that we arrived at the same time as the Macau Grand Prix- it was a thrill to watch the high speed cars zooming through the narrow little streets in this old Portuguese settlement. (Speaking of which, a lot of the signage is still in Portugese and Chinese, with no English translation!)

Our first stop was a quick walk through the Grand Lisboa hotel and Casino to see the high rollers. Then it was onto the old portugese historic district, where it felt like I was transported back to my days in Europe. We ate tasty custard pastries and dined on spicy portugese cuisine.

The highlight was to see the ruins of St. Paul's cathedral and the old fort. From a distance, it looks like the cathedral still stands in all her beauty. But, as one approaches, one notices that only the front facade it left. Still, one can explore the ruins and even enter the old crypt!

After the fort and lunch, we decided it was time to head to Venice! That's right, we went to one of Macau's newest and most impressive casinos, the Venetian! Walking inside is like taking a trip to Italy. Golden idols, studded chandeliers, escalating spiral staircases- it was all too much! But the certainly outdid themselves with the indoor gondola rides with authentic gondaliers!

With that, it was time to say good-bye to Macau and head back to Hong Kong for some more fun. My mom and I had some great dinner and a few drinks before heading back to bed. The following day, we explored the 10,000 Buddah's Monastery and took an open aired bus tour of the city! Had some more dim sum, and then took a plane back to Taiwan for week two of our trip! That's right, that was all only in one week, and I skipped out on a lot of things like the night market in Keelung where my mom tried sugar cane juice and had her first baozi, or the historical searches through Sun Ya Sen and Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Halls, or even over to the ultra hip shopping district of Ximending!

Week two started with a high-speed train ride down to Taichung to meet with my Uncle Donnie and Clare. They picked us up bright and early at the train station and we took a car to one of the more attractive locations around Taiwan- Puli. Known for it's wistful mountains and sunny weather, this was not a day to disappoint.

We started our tour with an introduction to the an old fashioned winery where, sadly, they no longer produced wine. Some of the highlights included:

The Ten Commandments of Drinking (my personal favorite is number ten: "When feeling for another one means you are about to be drunk. Stop immediately."

The Drunk Simulator

After the brewery, we moved our way over to a paper factory where we learned the time honored tradition of paper making. Here, my mom got to make some of her own paper followed by producing a printing on the paper.

After that, it was over to the paper dome- a reinvented catholic church constructed entirely out of paper. It was a unique and leisurely afternoon at this "religious" site.

Returning back to Taichong, we had some delicious hot pot followed by a nice stroll around the city's night market.

Perhaps the best part of the evening was when my mom tried Chicken Butt, and actually enjoyed it!

The following morning, after a visit to the science museum, we hopped back on a train and were back in Taipei for dinner with Vivian (my cousin Yuhsin's sister) and her two daughters, Zoe and Lily. The dinner was just perfect.

However, we still had a full week of sightseeing ahead of us, with journeys to the Lin Family Garden, then up to Danshui along the pier, over to Yeliou to see the moon rocks, back to Din Tai fung for some lunch and shopping. However, I ensured that we set aside one day to visit the famous Taroko National Park.

We took a fast train down to Taroko and upon arriving, hired a taxi driver to tour us around the gorge. This ended up being an excellent option as it got us into the gorge quickly for a relatively good price. He took us to see some of the most spectacular sights along the trail, along with some unique stories about how he climbed the fascinating high trails or rocks that resembled King Kong or Jumping Fish. This was also a tremendous visit for me as some trails reopened that were originally closed that last few times I visited the park. This afforded me some fantastic views of mountains I had yet to witness.

After the Gorge, I took my mom into downtown Hualien to try some famous Bianshi, a type of wonton noodle mentioned before on my blog. I took her to the two best spots for this dish to compare and we unanimously agreed that the first, smaller shop was our favorite. While there, we met a nice couple who told us about a famous bakery to buy some great tasting tiramisu. So after a little shopping (we bought an engraved rock) we got some italian cake, boarded the train, and made our way back home.

Upon returning to Taiwan, we still had quite a bit of sightseeing to do. Our primary focus was on getting out to the moon rocks in Yeliou, where minus the gravity, is nothing short of an extra terrestrial experience.

After Yeliou, we also ensured a nice day trip to the aboriginal locations around Wulai, complete with Muaji, logging train rides, alpine gondola lifts, archery, and stunning waterfalls set among Taipei's rugged wilderness.

In the evening, we had a rather unique experience. I took my mom over to the Longshan Temple area where we explored the mysteries of snake alley. The temple itself was exotic and mysterious while the snake soup we dined on was equally exotic and mysterious. However, and I will agree with my mom on this, the soup itseld is putrid. I tried explaining that it wasn't the snake that tasted bad (as I have eaten snake before and quite enjoyed it) but rather the herbs the put into the broth.

After snake alley, it was a quick jump over to the Wisteria tea house where we joined a fine historic culture of Taiwanese cultural heroes as they performed the fine tea culture Taiwan is known for. This is a particularly important tea house as it is the location where former political dissidents met during Taiwan's White Terror.

The following morning, we had a day left of shopping to do. One of the items on our list was purchasing a new cage for Zeke. While at the pet shop, I got a strange call from a friend wondering where I was. I told her I was at the pet shop. Turns out she was on my balcony with a pot of Mash Potatoes (it seems like all my stories involve potatoes or women on my balcony). You see, I was to have a Thanksgiving Dinner on Sunday night, but she got the dates wrong and arrived a day early with her boyfriend.

Not to throw the night away, and since I knew they had no plans, I invite them out with my mom and me. That night we dined at a great little hole in the wall that has no menus, they just bring a set dish of traditional Taiwanese food. After dinner, we took a stroll through the famed night market up in Shilin before we settled in for some Shrimp Fishing up in Tienmu.

Our last day pretty relaxing, strolls around the city, some shopping, some KTV singing, and finally preparations for Thanksgiving dinner. That night, we had about 50 guests arrive at my apartment, all with food in hand, to celebrate this wonderful holiday with my mom and me. The next day, it was an early flight home back to the old US of A, where a loving husband was waiting for her to tell the tales of her mysterious journey to Asia.

And this was only just a snap shot of Asia- it doesn't include stories about our bus rides, going to my Chinese school and meeting my Chinese Professor, eating beef noodles and meeting the owner of the best beef noodle shop in town, going to Sababa, visiting the school where I used to teach, shopping at the fashionable Wufenpu clothes market, trying delicious japanese cookies, the ten thousand buddhas monastery, and oh so much more!!!

From your loving mother and dutiful son mountains, Michael.

The River Tracer

2010-01-28T21:35:00.001-08:00

On a cold summer's morning, on a car bound for nowhere,
I met up with my friends, we were all too tired to speak.
So we all took turns a-driving, up the mountain, in the jungle,
Till boredom overtook us, and I began to speak.

I said, "friends I've made a life, out of going river tracing,
And knowing how to get there, by the way the river glides.
And if you don't mind me saying, I can see you're not out tracing,
For a sip of your coffee, I'll give you some advice."

So they handed me a helmet, and life vest worth a-wearing,
Donned a wet suit, cause the river felt like ice.
And the river was deathly freezing, and my skin lost all complexion,
Said, "If you're gonna trace the river, boys, you gotta learn to trace it right."

You got to know when to step up, know when to jump down,
Know when to plow on through, or when to swim or run.
You never hike on dry land, when the river is a-callin',
There'll be time enough for hiking, when the tracing's done.

Well every tracer knows, that the secret to a good time,
Is lying in a waterway, and building up the oomph!
And then everyone stands up, except the person at the front,
And they go sliding down the water slide into the small lagoon.

You got to know when to turn right, know when to turn left,
Know when to jump off cliffs, or zip-line for fun.
You never say no to new stuff, like rappelling down a waterfall,
There'll be time to second guess yourself when the tracing's done.

And when we finished tracing, we went back to the cars,
Took off our wetsuits, and and piled them in a heap.
And somewhere in the jungle, the tracers had broke even,
Cause in the final stretch they found a source that they could keep.

You got to know when to go on (when to go on), know when to go home (when to go home),
Know when the source is found, or just another bend.
You got to go river tracing, with your bestest Taiwanese friends,
And have a lasting memory, at the journey's end.

Don't forget to check out our pictures from the trip: River Tracing in Yangmingshan!

From the gambling, river tracing, Kenny Rogers of Taiwan, Michael!

Oh, By The Way, I Went to Thailand Again

2010-01-26T17:48:00.000-08:00

That’s right, in Sept- ember, I returned back to the land of smiles, a sort of encore trip if you will. It was only a weekend travel, but I packed quite a bit into that short weekend. My primary focus was on ancient temples and the Khmer ruins of times gone past. With really just a day to explore, I decided to narrow my journey to Ayuthaya, Thailand’s former capital and royal history.

I arrived late into Bangkok, and no other country in the world accommodates late comers better than Thailand. In getting off the plane, I changed my TW dollars into Thai Baht, but with such little to change, I went over to an ATM to take out some more. I double checked- the machine had the PLUS mark on it necessary for a withdrawal, but alas nothing came out. I tried again, and once more, nothing.

I decided that, once I arrived in the city, I would use an internet station and SKYPE call my bank to figure out what was going on. I got into town, found a computer and made the call. They informed me that I can only take out US$60 at a time. At these ATMs, they only have increments of 1000 Baht, or US$33. Well, 2000 Baht was too much at US$60, so I was stuck taking out US$33 at a time- puttin

g in and taking out the ATM card over and over again.

I finally got my money and went over to my hotel- the PS guesthouse. It was recommended to me by a friend and, despite being in the heart of the red light district and girly bars/ massage parlors, it’s actually a very nice place to stay. It’s one of the cheapest, but the rooms are clean and spacious. I would say it is a hidden gem in Bangkok, except that it’s always full. Last time I came to Bangkok about a year and a half ago, it was booked months in advance. This time around, I was able to get it for Friday night, but not Saturday night.

Nevertheless, I got my room, went out for a quick drink at a nice relaxed bar, not a go-go bar, and then hit the sack. I was up early the next day, got a bite to eat, and then was on the bus out to Ayuthaya. I don’t really remember the 2-3 hour ride as I slept most of the way. I do, however, remember arriving in the town. At first glance it seemed like a regular, normal little town that really didn’t have much to offer a temple seeker. However, this charmed city is the mecca of ancient Khmer ruins.

It was about lunch time when I arrived, so I took a tuk-tuk to a floating restaurant along the riverside. The air was warm and the river drifted along silently. Every now and again, a boat drove by, bouncing the restaurant up and down as I sat there, blissfully eating my sweet and sour Chicken.

The tuk-tuk driver that brought me to the restaurant also offered to take me around to see the popular sights in Ayuthaya. The price he was offering was fair. The price that he quoted to take me to the restaurant was correct and he did so without problem. He also had a little notebook of native English speaker’s comments recommending the tour. So, going against everything I heard about tuk-tuk scams, I decided to go along. It was an excellent decision.

The first stop was to one of the more recognizable Wats in Ayuthaya. Still functioning with Monks in residence, I got a first hand glimpse into the ancient lifestyles of the divinity. The steps were monstrously high, with sagging brick walls concaving in on each side. At the top of the Wat stood a deep well, caged in, at about 30 to 40 feet. A light lit up this otherwise dark abyss, revealing hundreds, if not thousands, of wished upon coins.

What fascinated me most of all, however, was not this central well, but actually the practice on the walls and statues. Inside the apex of this Wat were carefully carved statues. For a small donation, you were given a little square of gold paper, no more than 4 cm by 4 cm. The idea was to peel off this gold paper from it’s waxy backing and then apply it to the statues and walls. A centuries old work in progress, the temple walls and statues were slowly changing into gold, as little gold tissue papers lit up the mysterious alter of the Wat.

After that, it was off to the elephant farm, where, as I am sure you can guess, I rode an elephant. I got my own elephant and we used him to tour some of the surround temples of the remaining Wat Maheyong in fields and jungle. A primitive and remote way to explore the ruins around the area. The most exciting part, however, was when the guide hopped off and invited me to sit upon the elephant’s neck. Swinging side to side and having no where to faithfully hold on in order to secure my grip, it often times felt like a struggle just to stay on this magnificent beast. Before long, however, I started to get the hang of the trolloping and swaggering, and suddenly the adventure wasn’t a struggle to see if I could hold on, but rather a test to see how fast we could make the elephant go. In the end, not so fast.

Following the elephant trek, we proceeded to one of the most sacred spots in all of Ayuthaya. Wat Phra Mahahat, built by King Borom Rachathirat in the 1300s, In Thai culture, it is very special when the historical relics become entwined with the natural elements. Nowhere is this more pronounced, so I have heard, than in Cambodia’s Angkor Wat. However, Ayuthaya has a bit of this to share with the public as well, with a special relic- the head of Buddha wrapped lovingly and exotically among the vines and roots of a local tree. This enveloped head rests among a more elaborate and complex collection of temples and ruins.

Next stop was a large and reclining Buddha. It was large…and reclining. Enough said. However, I did manage to pick up a nice, US$3 hand made hammock while I was there, which is now a corner piece on my balcony in Taipei.

Our final visit was to the holiest of holies, the royalist of royals, the ground zero of the Kingdom- Wat Phra Si Sanphet. To put it another way, of all the Charlie Browns in the world, this was the Charlie Browniest.

This site, now housing a new giant golden Buddha (the original, 16 meters high with a 250kg covering of gold, was melted down by the invading Burmese) served as the King’s Palace in the good old days. The Wats and temples still stand, presenting the onlooker with some exquisite examples of traditional royal scenery.

It wasn’t before long that the rain poured in, signaling it was time to return to Bangkok. I took the tuk-tuk ride back to the town center where I hopped on a bus, returning to my hotel. I booked a second night at a place down the road, went out for dinner at my beloved Cabbages and Condoms for their scrumptious chicken, and then called it a night.

I was up early the next morning and made my way over to Soi Ban Baht where I purchased the most plain looking monks bowl I could find. In terms of craftsmanship, it was not a spectacle to behold. But when struck, it made the most melodious ring, far more pleasing to the ear than any of the other monk bowls available. So I bought this 50 year old monk bowl antique and it now sits squarely in my living room, collecting change and alms for my next adventure.

From your temple seeking archeologist of land of smiles, Michael.

A Man and his Motorcycle Part 5 (The Finale!)

2009-12-27T01:21:00.001-08:00

The journey was in it's final stretches as I woke early in sleepy Taidong for the second time. Again, a quick shower, pre-packed the night before, and a quick helping of zhwabing and red tea, and I was off like before. Last time going down the East Coast, I took the coastal road with scenic cliffsides and ocean vistas. For my return, I decided to take an alternate route, through the valley between the central cordillera and the oceanside cliffs. And to be quite boring, this route was very boring minus a few notable exceptions.

The first was Taiwans very own stone hendge located suspiciously close to the the Tropic of Cancer. Built over 3,000 years ago, the two Saoba monoliths are collectively almost 23 tons in weight, reaching a maximum height of 575 cm, and span out 600 meters long and 400 meters wide. Today, these massive structures remain a great mystery as to who put them there and for what purpose.

There are two legends surrounding the origins of these monoliths, both of which bend truth with magic in mythical ways. The first, according to the displays at the site, indicate that the Amis people first settled the area. One day, a pouring rain came into the area, and so everyone picked up a wooden board to protect themselves. This is how the monoliths became known as the Saoba, or wooden board, Monoliths. I guess no one realized that this story doesn’t actually account for how the stones got there, nor does it make for a very good legends. “Gather round children, and I shall tell you the exciting tale of how our ancestors… stayed dry!”

The second rumor is much more interesting and much more devious. As the Saoba people made their homes, they would have to circle their structures and sing the ancestral prayers. If the lyrics were sung incorrectly, the perpetrator would be blown away by the wind and all would turn to stone. The enormous remaining monoliths are proof enough for me that it has happened at least once! I think that is why karaoke is so popular in Taiwan, because the words are written at the bottom of the screen to prevent such a catastrophe!

I continued back up the route with a short stop off at the famed hot springs in the valley. It was a great way to soak up before getting back on course. The scenery didn’t change much, the route just passed through boring after boring town, and I realized that I had made a mistake in going up this humdrum valley. Humdrum, that was, until I reached the Taiwan Sugar Factory!!! Sadly, though, it was not as much fun as you would expect. If I had a sugar factory, I would make secret passageways and cool slides and a giant sugar bowl where you can lick you arm and dip it in and then suckle on the sweet sweet goodness. This place was just a factory. It was neither fun nor open to the public.

Around 5 o’clock, I rolled into Hualien. I had some more of the delicious dumpling soup and fried pork steak soup noodles before I went to bed.

As I woke up, I hopped onto my motorcycle only to notice that the back tire was flat. Perfect, 7am on Sunday and no mechanics were opened. I asked my hotel front desk if they could help me, but they were no use. I then walked up to a small breakfast joint, ordered my usual, and then explained my predicament to them. They said they knew of one that was opened on Sunday but it wouldn’t be open for another hour or so. I thanked them very much and they instructed me to push my bike up to the restaurant from my hotel and return later.

This push was a momentus push for me. As I was rolling my bike along, I watched my mileage roll over the 1,000 mile mark. What serendipity, that of all places for me to reach 1,000 miles would be in Hualien, while rolling it down the street with a flat tire. I stopped push, applauded my accomplishment there in the street with a raucous clap, and then carried on.

The mechanic pulled out a long nail from my tire and replaced it with a new one. She was in perfect working condition and then I pressed on along the stunning coastal route between Hualien and Ilan.

Past Ilan, I retraced my steps along route 9 over Pingling, into Xindian, and finally back at Taipei by about 3 o’clock. It gave me enough time to meet up with Amber’s going away party as we said good bye to her for the next year where she will be in the United States studying to get her MBA.

From the man with no sugar high, just high on motorcycle fumes, Michael.

A Man and His Motorcycle Part 4

2009-12-21T19:48:00.000-08:00

There are three great cross island highways in Taiwan- the Northern, the Central, and the Southern. The Northern has yet to be attempted. I completed the second half of the central on my second day of the trip ending in Taroko National Park, and the Southern was about to be checked off my list.

With an early rise in Tainan, I hopped on my motorcycle and breezed toward the Southern Cross Island Highway. I was leaving some rainy weather behind me in Taipei, so I was a bit apprehensive about what was ahead of my, on a trip that would take me from sea level to almost 3,000 meters, back down to sea level. Weather did not appear to be on my side initially.

However, it wasn't long before I found myself admiring some of Taiwan's majestic hidden treasures. The first was this enormous temple no more than an hour into the journey.

The second was this lovely reservoir, ideal for a short stop to catch a picture.

After this, the clouds remained gray, the roads turned very windy, and the altitude began to climb. I was afforded a few stylistic, breathtaking shots before my path before my disappeared into the clouds.

It was a good two hour drive at this point through mist and fog. I had to drive slowly and carefully as the unprotected side of the road was a fall thousands of feet below and certain death at the end. The road narrowed, climbed, and the visibility declined until at times I had to follow the yellow line on the road.

Just as I had given up all hope, I arrived at Yakou tunnel, and the Southern Cross Island highways highest point at 8,960 feet. The sign read that this tunnel, big enough for only one car to fit through at a time, was sixty meters long, unlit, and had a 90 degree bend in the middle. An engineering flaw if I have ever heard of one. Nevertheless, I drove through, and recorded it in three parts below, and when I emerged from the other side, I was treated to the most amazing thing I have seen in Taiwan. (The film was actually four parts, but part three was just a blank screen in the middle of the tunnel, so I cut it from the blog).

And some photos of the spectacular view on the other side, the Southern Cross Island Highway's highest point.

It floored me that three hours up through this mountain ranged was spent entirely in the clouds could be ended so abruptly. The mountain I drove through served as a dam for the clouds- it held them back keeping the beauty and the sun squarely ahead of me. At times a strong wind would come and force some of the clouds to spill out of its natural cauldron, falling wistfully down the edge, over me, and disappearing into vapor.

I followed the trail ahead of me. The road was all down hill from this point on, so I turned off my motor and glided silently down the mountain. With the wind rushing and the sun shining, I was a happy man.

I followed the route until I arrived in a small town called Lidao. Lidao is an aboriginal village with some great Bunnan cuisine and some surprisingly famous kimchee. A small remote place, I had no idea that this little village would be the center of a unique coincidence about three hours later.

It wasn't long after this short stop that I arrived at the exit to the Southern Cross-Island highway. I arrived at a junction of sorts, and had to make a decision- should I drive about an hour South and spend the night again in Taidong, therefore having to retrace the route again tomorrow, or should I press North and hope to find a place to stay. The connundrum was answered not by the setting sun, but the reminder that I wanted to have some really tasty dumplings, so I set out for Taidong and my scrumptious dumpling house.

When I arrived in Taidong, I was checked into a very reasonably priced hotel and was shown to my room. When we walked in, my attendant turned on the television to show me I had cable, and he turned it to the Travel and Living channel. In doing so, a travel show was on called Fun Taiwan! and, of all places for the host to be at the moment he turned the TV on was in Lidao, where I was at no more than about three hours earlier.

With that coincidence in mind, I showered and went out to pick up my golden delicious dumplings down the road.

From your West to East coaster in less than a day, Michael.

A Man and His Motorcycle Part 3

2009-12-13T06:18:00.000-08:00

The next two days of my journey placed less of an emphasis on my riding and more of an emphasis on my sightseeing. Again, an early rise in Taidong was met with a sunny, bright day. I sat down for a breakfast at a little Taiwanese diner just outside of Taidong and took out my map. This next stretch looked like it was going to be a bit of a tricky ride.

My highway, according to my map, at one point stopped and crossed over the Western side of the island, leaving me to figure out how to get to the bottom of the island without having to drive to Tainan. I did notice that they were in the process of building a road completing the stretch of highway that was apparently missing, so I thought I would conduct a few research experiments on some back roads. My first attempt was down this one lane road along the seaside through tiki like huts, or shacks, which I was not aware actually existed in Taiwan. Or I could be imagining I saw them as I am recounting this trip at least four months after I took it. Never the less, it still had a very tropical island feel to it. Particularly when the paved road...

...gave way to a dirt road...

...and then the dirt road gave way to no road at all.

I pressed on until the path was completely washed out by a raging river, traversable only by an all terrain vehicle. Racing stripes on my 125cc motorcycle does not a Jeep make.

I had but no choice to continue on along the major highway, branching off down side roads in search of the Taiwan's equivalent to the North West Passage, the South East Highway!

At one pictureque moment, I pulled over to take some photos of the luscious greenery unfolding below me. As I sat there, I met some delightful cyclists that were biking around Taiwan. After the customary photo shoot, I asked them if there was a highway along the ocean that I could take. A few broken English and Chinese phrases later, I was able to catch a phrase here or there indicating that there was indeed a road. But I also caught some mention of a military base nearby as well, so naturally, my caution was piqued as I proceeded along my way.

Naturally, I found the road the bikers mentioned and sure enough, the entrance was guarded byt the military. Not wanting to be cause of international drama, that and a helicopter started circling my, I turned my bike around and booked it out of the full metal jacket. Once the helicopter started its retreat, no match for me, I snapped a shot of it for my records.

Alas, with the military blocking my only access to the East Coast, I had to go through some winding backroads across the island to my next destination, Kenting, with an approach from the Western side. I got into this little resort town, known for it's sandy beaches, fine weather, and Mexican Restaurants, took a shower and got what I consider to be the best ribs and bbq chicken on the Island only at Smokey Joes. I then spent the afternoon lounging around on the beach, watching the tide, swimming, drinking, and relaxing to the tunes on my ipod.

Extra points to anyone who recognizes this particularly pretty photograph...

Evening was met with a trip around the night market, some tasty Thai food, and a show. You have to love Taiwan and their shows, particularly in Kenting. Essentially, they have these shows that are advertised for the seedier crowd, but attract the fun loving teenage crowd. Essentially, you sit in a restaurant, and for about fifteen minutes, you are entertained by the stylings of "A Sexy Girl" a "Hot Guy" and a "Lady Boy". Maybe the sexy girl will come up to you and give you a quick lap dance or the hot guy will take your shirt and through it onto one of the rafters for you to climb after, or perhaps the lady boy will find the manliest guy in the room, take him up on stage, and embarress the hell out of him. It's important you realize this is NOT a seedy show at all, but a funny, carabaret or miniature burlesque. Leave it to Taiwan to take the only real x-rated content in the world and make in Disney friendly!

After dinner and show, I hit the hay for another early start. I was not particularly looking forward to this drive. When driving around Taiwan, it is sage advice to avoid the Western side. It is basically all city driving with stoplights and trucks and construction. It is not an enjoyable way to go. However, it did get me to Kiaoshung where a few items of note were encountered.

First, I reached 1,000 Kilomoters in this city.

This is what I saw at this historic landmark of my trip.

I know you feel a little disappointing, but don't worry, my 1,000 mile marker was satisfyingly interesting. You'll know what I mean when I get to it. While Kiaoshung may not have had a great introduction, it was nevertheless a really great city. I found it to be clean, vibrant and set up for tourism. It didn't hurt, either, that the city was also currently hosting the World Games. After going to the Olympics in Turino in 2006 and then missing them in Beijing in 2008, I figured this was an appropriate subsitute.

I wasn't sure what it was that I wanted to see, or where to go to see them, so I stopped in a local internet cafe and hopped online to see what events were taking place. Just my luck that water ski jumping was starting in about two hours on the lotus pond. I am never one to pass up an opportunity to see people crash into the water at high speeds, so I hopped on my bike and proceeded up to the Lotus Pond.

This pond, minus the event, was absolutely beautiful. First, I was surprised by there size of it. It was quite large for a Taiwanese city I thought, certainly we have nothing like it in Taipei! Second, there were temples and sculptures and floating gardens along the water in between shaded walking paths. It was just marvelous.

After a quick tour of these, I made my way over to the pavilion, bought my ticket, and sat down in the viewing booth for the jumps. The first couple of jumps were all very boring- very successful. I decided that I was also hungry and thought I could skip out on the jumps for a little bit. I followed the path around the games and then I came across this little table with light refreshments set out. I didn't see anybody collecting money, and after I saw a few people take them for free, I followed suit. I nice, I thought, for the Taiwanese to be handing out free refreshments. I continued along my walk only to come across a gated entrance. I passed two young Taiwanese lads, said hello and continued on my way. When I returned, I saw a sign on that gate indicating that I was in the Athlete's lounge and just mooched off their tables. Whoops, well, no one stopped me when I went in there on account of my fabulous athletic form I am sure.

I then got back to the grandstand and stayed put until I saw a crash. And boy did I see crashes. Enjoy.

At the end of the event, I packed everything up, got back on my high horse, and made way for Tainan, just a little further up the road. I got into town just as the sun was setting. I settled in for the night after a nice breakfast on this rooftop restaurant next to a lazy winding river. I had to get some early sleep because the next day was the start of my most ambitious drive to date, the South Cross Island Highway.

So until then, from your Taiwan Invading, family strip show attending, laugh at the athletes crashing into the water kind of guy, Michael.

A Man and His Motorcycle Part 2

2009-10-03T21:16:00.000-07:00

This leg of the journey was why I wanted to do this trip. A drive along the East Coast of Taiwan is considered to be one of the most prized rides of the whole island, commencing in Hualien (although, in reality, could start in Ilan) and finishing in Taidong. Contrasting drastically with the mountain road I was on the day before, this coastal road was mostly wide, straight and easy going. Surely, a day was all that was needed to get from top to bottom.

Waking up early in Hualien, I was relieved to see blue skies out over the ocean and to the south of me along my route. I packed up, hopped on board my bike, and took off. The sun was shining, the cool air was blowing in off the ocean and my happiness clocked in at maximum levels. The road, while winding at times, remained largely clean, sparsely trafficked, and beckoning. Because I had left early in the morning, there was a noticeable absence of tour buses, trucks and other cars on the path. I was alone with my thoughts, my bike, and my island. I was a man with his motorcycle.

It wasn't too far from my point of departure when I got my first glimpse of the beauties that stretched out before me. I had come around a sharp turn and decided to pull off into an over look. Below me was Nioushan (Cow Mountain) beach and a small cove of intricate delight. I puttered about before casting of for my next destination: Shihtiping. Less impressive than the curious Yeliou of the northern coast, this little outcrop provides unique glimpses of volcanic rocks eroded by wind, time and sea. After a brief viewing of the 1 kilometer outcropping, it was a straight shot to the tropics.

Taiwan, while considered to be a sub-tropic island, hosts many fascinating micro climates. Starting a day in Taipei, it takes a simple 45 minute train ride to leave the dark and gloom behind and find oneself in the sunnier times of Taichong. Crossing the tropic of Cancer is usually a sign of permanent fine weather ahead. Taiwan marks the Tropic of Cancer with an enormous white monolith, separating subtropics from tropics, or as I like to say, sunshine from better sunshine. But how many times can you say you have driven a motorcycle over a major lattitude? 10 times at least in my case. There is a great thrill to ride a bike back and forth over a major geographical (albeit imaginary) demarcation, so I had no qualms about riding my bike back and forth a few times for prolonged enjoyment!

Now continuing my trip, and being permanently in the tropics, I decided it was time to check out the caves of Basiandong. Pulling over just south of the Tropic of Cancer, I stormed up some stairs in the blazing heat to see the Caves of the Eight Immortals. The formation of these caves are quite interesting. Standing at over 150 meters above sea level, they were carved out by the ocean's tides. Tectonic uplift has now pushed them high above anymore hydro-related bashing. What's more stunning is the age of these caves. While I do not know when they were formed, archeological evidence has found prehistoric, stone-age artefacts (such as tools) dating back 30,000 years. This suggests the caves once harbored Taiwan's earliest inhabitants well after the caves rose from the frothy seas.

Coming out of the caves is a curious little turn off you won't find in the guide books. Driving along, I saw a sign for "Water Running Up" and couldn't shake the idea that is must be some type of illusion. So I pulled into the little park, plopped my bike over in the corner, and made my way to the small stream where the water was supposedly running up. It was a pretty dam good illusion. Enough that I ended up sitting there for the better part of an hour following the stream UP the hill around the corner, inspecting each little turn bump or anomoly until the water disappeared into the rocks. I was a regular Sherlock Holmes trying to determine why the law of physics did not apply to this particular locale. It was then I got the shuttering thought that perhaps I might indeed fall into a antigravity wormhole and with nothing to hold onto, hurdle out into the endless depths of space. Not particularly enjoying this thought experiment, I put my detective skills to rest, jumped back on my bike and made due for a very lovely place called Sansiantai.

With no connection (that I know of) to Basiandong, Sansiantai, or Three Immortals Platform, is a collection of three unique little islets of rocks with a pesky and obnoxious little bridge connecting them to the mainland. With eight absurd arches leading the way, one could spend some time on truly lovely platforms admiring Taiwan's rocky coastline. However, if it weren't for the exhausting 8 arches on the bridge, perhaps you wouldn't be so exhausted once you arrived at the end and not want to continue on. A little exploration was conducted and deserved, nonetheless, for such an invested arrival. But it wasn't long before I returned back to the start of the walk and sat down for some fried rice and a mango smoothie. Interestingly, it was I who became more of the sight seeing attraction than the three immortals because as I went up to get my bike, a young couple with a baby approached me. They threw the baby into my arms and immediately started to take my picture with it. No warning, no permission. It did cross my mind that this young couple, too distraught with the overwhelming responsibility of parenting, sought a better life for their young daughter with a young American biking around Taiwan. Fortunately, they did not leave me with their young (who was screaming and tearing as it was being held by this complete stranger) and took her back permitting me to go along my way.

My last stop before arriving in Taidong, my destination, was a place called Siaoyeliou, or a smaller version of the impressive Yeliou along the North coast already commented on in this blog. I found this place neither impressive nor memorable and of no comparison to it's big brother up north. Still worth a trip, though, if you're in town.

It was around 5pm when I rolled into Taidong, a quiet lazy city on the southeast part of Taiwan. The streets had no, or few, traffic lights and they were barely littered with cars. Buildings never towered higher than six stories and the citizens were tanned, broken locals of the beetlenut chewing variety. Although Taidong lacks the frenticity and class of Taipei, it contained a unique charm and a glimpse of traditional Taiwan life.

It also had the winner for the best Xiaolongbao on my trip, with a total rating of 7 out of 10. It lost points because the skin of the dumplings were too loose, the restaurant was a total mess and they used that gross putty to dam up the wholes in the dumpling. But these minor flaws paled in comparison to the tender pork, the savory juice and the scrumptious flavor. While the construction of the dumpling may not have been five stars, the friendly service (excellent family owned operation), nice venue (just across the street from a major temple gives this place an other worldy feel to it particularly when the prayers start) and tasty dumplings give the "imaginatively" titled "Taidong Soup Dumpling" restaurant the grand prize for my dumpling hunting in Taiwan.

After eating, I retired to an aboriginal hotel for a night of peaceful sleep. From your ocean sailing, gravity defying (literally), cave dwelling biker of the East Coast, Michael.

A Man and his Motorcycle Part 1

2009-08-08T09:16:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, July 19th, I set out with nothing more than a backpack stuffed with a few t-shirts, one pair of jeans and shorts, fresh sets of socks and underwear, a toothbrush, a hairbrush, an atlas of Taiwan's roads and, most importantly, intrepidity. For on that clear, hot morning, I loaded my bag onto my 125 CC Honda Wolf Motorcycle and took off for an eight day journey around the island. It was to be my first trip on my bike more than a few hours outside of Taipei, and with 1,820 kilometers of open road stretched ahead of me, there was little I could do but wonder- what did this journey have in store for me?

The first stretch of road took me to Ilan, just about two hours outside of Taipei along the East Coast. A simple drive to the Pingling mountains of Southern Taipei County, I arrived in small hot spring village of Jiaosi where I booked a hotel and decided to stay there for the night. That afternoon, I was meeting a group of friends of mine at an aboriginal Rain festival held at a park called Wulaokeng. Dotted with water slides, natural river rafting, pristine walkways, and summer fun, it was an enjoyable location to spend some time with friends on a hot summer afternoon.

The highlight of the celebration was a concert that included a well skilled drumming group from Korea. Their beats were rhythmically tight. It was an astonishing display of musical prowess, precise timing, and energetic perseverance. The Korean drumming group was accompanied by some eloquent, traditional Chinese dances.

Following the concert, my friends returned back to Taipei where I returned back to my hotel in Jaiosi. I stopped for some dumplings and a soup, but they were dry and relatively tasteless. I decided to make it a mission to try soup dumplings wherever I went on this trip and rank them. These dumplings were obviously last place. After dinner, I retired to bed for an early start the next day.

The first real leg of my journey began on the second day out of Ilan. It was an early morning, and the weather was acceptable. I veered off of the coastal route for some mid-island mountain driving. Going down route seven was an easy mountain road to follow for the most part. Sparsely traveled meant I had enormous lengths of excellent driving conditions all to myself. The road began by following a wide valley dotted with numerous cabbage farms. It was a unique blend of blue skies, rocky outcrops, and little green dots lining the road side.

It wasn't long before the farmlands were behind me and the road started to climb. In low gears, I was soon driving through a cold cloud as my elevation rose and rose. Before long, however, the cloud broke away and I was back in the sunlight of Taiwan's pristine weather. However, the scenery changed dramatically at this point. No longer was I in the tropical splendor of southeast Asia, but instead I was biking through some of Taiwan's lesser known alpine climates! It felt as if cool wind from the Alps were blowing against my face rather than typhoon-laced winds of the South Pacific.

Nevertheless, the surroundings were outstanding. Little stands occasionally set up along this road, particularly in the rural villages, were selling freshly picked peaches and plums that would explode on one bite. Then, you could suck out the very juices and embrace the fact that what your eating could not be any more natural, wild or organic even if you tried.

Before long, route seven linked up with route 8, which makes up the eastern corridor of the Central Cross Highway (one of three highways that crosses through the central of the island, the other two being the Northern Cross Highway and the Southern Cross Highway which made up a portion of my trip). This highway was outstanding. The road wound and turned, through clouds and sun, through forests and over cliffs. At times, there was nothing stopping you from making one wrong turn and plummeting into the gorge below. Tunnels were carved right through the rock faces, but these tunnels are not the tunnels we think of today that are nicely finished with concrete and lighting. These were like mining caves that had no smooth finish to them. They were dark as they had no lighting and they leaked with water constantly. Needless to say, driving through one of these tunnels required a calm demeanor and a keen sense so you wouldn't hit the very dark walls.

Eventually, the winding road took course along a very recognizable feature in Taiwan- Taroko Gorge. The majority of tourists start out in Hualien and drive up into the gorge. Not me, I was starting at its source- at its highest elevation where the gorge was youngest and least developed. It was a unique perspective, to watch this gorge deepen as the kilomoters flew past me.

Before long, I was in Taroko Gorge National Park proper, with which we are all very familiar from my previous posts. The river ran like a vein cut deep into the earth with massive waterfalls and tributaries contributing to its impressive glory. The weather turned a bit disagreeable at this point, so I pushed through most of the park quite quickly and into Hualien.

I stopped for some delectable wonton-esque soup called Bianshi. I am not sure how they improve upon it, but they do an excellent job with it. I think they put a little bit of vinegar in it, which explodes the flavor, so now I always add vinegar to all of my wonton experiences. I followed up with some soup dumplings but was again very disappointed.

I hit a local popular bar where I met some very delightful teachers from Korea, chatted with them for some bit, and then hit the sack for an early departure the next day.

From the cabbage farmer of Taiwan, Michael.

好久不見

2009-07-25T16:44:00.000-07:00

You'll have to forgive the absence. It's not that I didn't stop thinking about you, or forget that you love to check up on my life. It's merely that sometimes I get so fed up with these technological doodads, and working all day on them means spending an hour or two writing about my life is, quite honestly, the last thing I want to do. So, can you really blame me if, in my spare time, I want to slip away for a month or two?

Not only that, I have been quite busy. Work, while being on overload, has not been the most preoccupying component of my life at the moment. My Chinese classes take the winning spot for that role. Essentially, I went from a lovely old grandmother of a teacher that never gave homework, optional exams that carried no real weight and bought us dinner and presents on occasion to a teacher that assigns us homework every day (the horror!), administers daily quizzes and gives us tests that I am sure would challenge a native speaker. Upon leaving class, I am inundated in Chinese Characters. So, I am sorry, less time for you.

I am sure you're wondering about the weekends. Surely can't a compromise be reach in that department? Well, yes and no. For you see, about three months ago, when I stopped writing about Taiwan consistently, I purchased a new motorcycle after my previous one was so egregiously taken from my possession. In the past three months, I have racked up almost 4,000 kilometers on this new two-wheeler (mind you, I have no commute so this is all done on weekend trips), a feat which can only be accomplished if I have set aside a significant amount of time away from the computer.

The trips have been glorious. Mostly through winding country roads or along charming cliff sides. I have driven to the beach a few times and of course explored some of the stunning mountain tops. These trips have all been splendid, exhilarating, adventurous and fascinating, but not necessarily blog worthy. I have posted plenty on biking and hiking trips around Taipei and these recent months haven't necessarily stood out against my previous journeys.

Thus, I have taken a four pronged-approach in explaining my absence: too much computer time, excessive studying, a new motorcycle and trips not worthy of posting. However, good excuses often make for lousy apologies so I will make a deal with you. I will devote more time to writing if you devote more time to reading. Invite friends along- cook some popcorn and read some of the classic posts I have on my blog out loud to each other. I am sure you'll look crazy doing it, but the only person judging you will be the other person listening. And of course me.

From your out of touch blogger, with his sincerest regret, Michael.

Pimpin da Shrimpin

2009-05-01T08:25:00.000-07:00

In America, a first date might consist of something like this. The guy picks up the girl in his parents' Toyota Camry. He drives a little bit faster to show he's cool. They go to a dinner within budget. Most likely Italian. Probably the Olive Garden. Afterwards, they see a movie, hold hands, maybe a move is made, maybe not. Back by 11.

In Taiwan, it's a bit different. The guy picks the girl up on his scooter. He drives way too fast not to impress the girl but probably because he forgot she was on the back. He takes her to a place where you can fish for pre-caught shimp in an indoor pool. Then he makes her cook the caught shrimp on a nearby grill. They eat it together. She's home by 6pm. He gets drunk with friends.

Wait a minute, let's back up there for a minute... fish for shrimp in an indoor pool? Yes, the wonders of shrimp fishing. On Saturday night, a group of friends and I went up to the northern reaches of Taiwan to what can be described as a giant arena. Located within this arena are three man-made pools containing the elusive giant shrimp. These shrimp are pre-caught and stalked in these pools. You are given a rod, some liver as bait and two hours to catch as many shrimp as you possibly can.

Let's set the scene now. I was sitting on the side of a pool, with a Taiwan beer in hand. To one side of my friends was a young couple on a date. To the other side was a beer drinking yokel who obviously considers shrimp fishing to be a professional sport. His beer gut was an indication of years of practice.

We sat, with our bait in the water hoping to get a bite. I got a total of three bites the entire evening, resulting in one shrimp being caught. Obviously this was embarrassing as my friend, sitting next to me, caught six shrimp within the first thirty minutes. I tried to take some lessons from this shrimping expert, but the cause was lost.

Afterward, we threw the giant prawns on the grill and served them up to ourselves for a delicious evening dinner. Actually, I personally hate shrimp, so I didn't eat any. My good friend once put it this way, "I love shrimping. I can go there and fish all day. Drink beer. Be gross. Be a man." Yes, that about sums up the experience.

From your sailor of the high seas on an indoor pool who couldn't catch more than one pre-caught shrimp, Capt. Michael.

Yushan

2009-04-09T07:26:00.000-07:00

When one thinks of Taiwan, it's only natural to conjure an image of beautiful beaches, electri- fying cities, or maybe even a factory or two (made in taiwan, anyone?). So when I speak of snow and ice, for example along an alpine ridge, I am sure Taiwan would not be the first place you would guess. Nor with it probably be your tenth. Or really anywhere in the double digits placewise for that matter.

In the final week of March, six intrepid idiots decided to scale Northeast Asia's highest peak: Yushan, or, Jade Mountain. Clocking in at just shy of 4,000 meters, we were to test our spirit and endurance against the toughest of elements. Altitude sickness, landslides, freezing temperatures, and falling to an untimely death were all challenges stacked against us. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Our journey began in the small city of Chaiyi, home to chicken rice. Although I can't necessarily claim they invented this award winning combination, I will have to hand it over to them that they have just about perfected. We were picked up by a friend of a friend and taken to Chaiyi's most famous restaurant serving this dish. The chicken was succulent and served with a delicious brown sauce over freshly cooked rice. That same kindly man that picked us up pressured me to drink this traditional Taiwanese licquor called Gaoliang with him. But I was no fool- it was the foulest tasting alcohol ever known; perhards it's closest neighbor is Korean soju mixed with paint thinner. So it was no surprise that I had to pass, time and time again. After dinner and stacking up on snacks, we boarded a minivan and made the winding, three hour long journey to our base camp at the foot of Yushan.

The alarm went of at 5.30 am indicating an early morning wake up call. Already geared up in our hiking clothes, we proceeded into the main hall where breakfast was being served. A heart hiker's meal consisted of roasted nuts, porridge, ginger, cabbage and tofu. Enough to energize even the weakest hearts, if you ask me.

After breakfast, we geared up, registered at the park headquarters, debriefed on the 8.5 kilomoter trek and then took off on a slow but exhilirating pace. We began in a tropical climate with palm trees and monkeys in abundance. We were even greeted by this distant relative to the human race (though he was treated more like the blacksheep of the family).

The scenery was fantastic. Once we reached the temperate climate, Taiwan took on a different shape. Palm trees gave way to conifers the hot humidity dissipated into a cool, dry climate. The sun was shining against these massive mountain ranges shooting up around us. It was hard to imaging we were already 2,000 meters about sea level considering some of these mountains encapsulating us were still another 2,000 meters above us.

After a gruelling few hours, we finally reached our base camp at 3,500 meters above sea level. Here we would acclimitise to the altitude (thus preventing altitude sickness) and prepare for the assault on the summit in the morning. As we sat there and drank our ginger tea, we watched the sun set into the distance. The overwhelming beauty reminded me of the famous saying "Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. Red sky at night, sailor's delight." Well, with a sunset like that, we were bound for great weather the following day. How wrong I was. How wrong I was. Eventually the sun went down leaving something I have never seen in Taipei in all my years here: stars.

The problems began when we went to sleep. We settled down on what could be described as an elongated plank of wood. No pillows made it quite difficult to get comfortable while 30 other snoring Taiwanese made the rumbling snorts unbearable. Then came the headaches. Altitude sickness? I had hoped not. My friend developed the theory that the generator in the back was pumping higher concentrations of carbon monoxide into the cabin giving us the headaches. I had to agree with her because when I left the cabin to use the restroom, the headache went away.

Not quite ready to go back to bed (or lie endlessly awake in that gas chamber) I took a seat at the picnic table a decided to gaze some more at O'Rien's Belt. But what's this? It disappeared. That can't be, it was there before I went to bed. In fact, now all of the stars had disappeared. Well, this could mean only one dangerous truth- a cloud cover had rolled in. But what's more, that at 3,500 meters, we would be hiking in that cloud cover very soon.

With this disheartening realization, I went back to bed (as best I could). At 1.30 am, we were woken up by our aboriginal guides to begin what I like to call the day of a dozen pains.

After breakfast, and in pitch black, we began our treck for the last 500 meters. A much more intense degree of climbing assured us we would be at the top of the mountain by sunrise. A slow but arduous trek, we began to make progress. However, it wasn't long before our pace slowed and out rate of breathing picked up. Even now, heavy gulps of air seemed useless in providing enough oxygen. The air was thin, the body exhausted, and the prized summit seemed ever elusive. At one point I yawned so hard, I strained a jaw muscle. I have never met anyone that has experienced this (basically my jaw muscle cramps up when I yawn very hard) but it is very painful. It also seems to be doubly painful when it happens when you're climbing a mountain.

At 3,750 meters from the top, things took a drastic change for the worst when our alpine climate delivered us snow and ice. So now, I was gassed, exhausted, suffering from altitude sickness, cramping, and to top it off: freezing. Let me set the scene: we are along the edge of a cliff, in the middle of the dark, covered in ice and snow, scrambling up loose rocks 3,750 meters above sea level (with those palm trees and monkeys). We were being served insanity for breakfast. Eventually, the sun rose revealing that one wrong step would send us plummeting over the edge to our untimely death. This was not comforting as the loose rocks were giving way and the ice was undermining each step we took. I used to joke that, at 4,000 meters, Yushan was about half the size of Mt. Everest. Therefore, by climbing up the mountain and then climbing back down it would be like climbing Everest. What I didn't expect was, that with all the ice and snow, it would actually be like climbing Everest!

There have been a few times in my life where I wasn't sure if I would make it out alive- swimming with Bull Sharks in Thailand, camping on an active volcano in the Philippines. This was, by far, the closest meeting with the end I have thus encountered. It finally got to the point where our guide turned to us and said: ok, it's too dangerous, we need to turn around. Well, a whole host of emotions surged through me. Relief we were going back. Anger we didn't make it to the top. Excitement that I was in a situation that required us to "turn back". Blinding fear that I was in a situation that required us to "turn back". Slow and steady steps ensured we wouldn't fall over the edge as we paced our way back to the base of the mountain.

The return was long and tiresome. Our legs wanted to give out, but we pushed on. Eventually, we arrived back at the camp, greated by our bus and tour guides with delicious fruit and instant noodles, and made our long ride back to Taipei. From your mountaineering adventurer of certain death: Michael.

Korea Korea Korea!

2009-03-13T19:06:00.000-07:00

The weekend I had to sight-see kept me mainly in the vicinity of the Palace District. The tour began, actually, with my accommodations. Opting to forgo the traditional hotel or hostel, I went for the more traditional hanok style guest house. A hanok is an old traditional styled Korean house, one floor, and is the epitome of charming. Entering the wooden structure is like stepping back in in time. The sliding wooden doors are like an example of your imagination of the East. But the most unique aspect of a hanok was how it's heated. Going oldschool at this point, the structure is heated by gentle flames under the floor. Sounds a bit dangerous, but considering this structure has been around for some time, I figured the owner knew what he was doing. Not to mention there is no better feeling in the world than to wake up and step on a nice, warm wooden floor to send a shot of happiness and contentment through your entire body.

That warmth soon departed, however, when you stepped outside for the first time. The air as a great reminder that it was still winter in Korea and a warm jacke
I arrived just in time for the changing of the guard ceremony. A bit more pomp than the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in the United States, it was still an agreeable affair to behold. The ceremony began with a parade of the band and new soldiers to replace those currently on duty. Dressed in magnificent colors really offset these guards from the drab (though sunny) Korean winter.t and scarf were necessary components to enjoying the day. My first sight was not too far from my hanok. I bounded over, with the thrill of a tourist, to the largest palace complex in Seoul- Gyeongbok Palace. Built in the fifteenth century, this palace was the main residence of the King (or emporer... not sure here).

Following the ceremony, I entered the palace and was awed by the architectural masterpieces and craftmanship. Truly an astounding piece of heritage to be found in South Korea if I have ever seen it. The palace was dotted with traditional Korean heritage including the throne room with the royal throne, dish-shaped sun dials evidence of a strong astrological and scientific program in ancient Korea, lavish gardens and well cared for Korean buildings.

The most exciting part of the day, however, was when I got to dress up, for free, as a traditional Korean Guard. Putting on the royal colors, I wore the same robes used by the guards in the changing of the guard ceremony. Enjoy these pictures, but remember that's me in the outfit, not a cardboard cutout. Koreans wouldn't ruin their palace with that kind of schtick.

For all its magnificence, this palace is surprisingly not listed on the UNESCO World Heritage list. That distinction, in fact, goes to the smaller but equally impressive second palace five minutes down the road called Gyeongdeokgung.

Only acsessible via tour guide, this palace was like an abandoned oasis from it's monstrous brother down the road. Quaint yet impressive, this palace had quite a few features of worth. Most notably, this palace was the official palace for almost 200 years (I think...) when the main palace caught fire and required reconstruction (I guess those underfloor heaters aren't idiot proof). This means tat Gyeongdeokgung has more traditional architecture while Geyonbukgong has more recontruction. I assume this is why the little brother gets the emminent position as a world heritage site.

At the back of the palace is a secret garden with a quaint and almost magical feel to it.

After my royal tours, I strolled down along Insadong, the artistic and cultural center of Seoul and coincidentally right near the palaces. Good dinner, shopping, and tea houses made for a scrumptious and sophisticated afternoon.

Towards sunset, I found myself heading up the cable car to the N-Seoul Tower, previously known as the Seoul Tower and changed for whatever reason unknown. The view was bitterly cold but gave one an excellent appreciation of just how massive Seoul is. This view only encompasses one view of Seoul because the N-Seoul tower is in the middle of Seoul and the city stretches around it. So like I said, here is just a tasting of Seoul.

That night was an interesting night. Near insadong, I snacked on street snacks and tried different delicacies. The best was an ingenious creation of western cuisine, actually. One lady took a hotdog, placed it into a crepe-like pancake and stuffed it with coleslaw, mustard and ketchup. The sweet with the salty made it an excellent combination. The worst was the silk worm larvae. A bowl of larvae soaking in a sauce made the entire experience unappealing. But it was new and customary, and at this point I've had partially developed duck fetuses and bull testicles- how much could this hurt. The answer- alot. It was by far one of the worst tastes I have ever encountered. It tasted like an insect flew into my mouth and I was eating it against my will. This particulary dish comes highly unrecommended by me. I finished the night at a hof (Korean bar) in happening portion of town filled o the brim with energetic college students and business men looking to have a good time.

Sunday was less exciting. I boarded the MRT with the intention of heading to Suwon to see a fortress. But as luck would have it, I got on the wrong train and found myself in Incheon. Not to be dismayed, I decided to take a ferry to one of the Western islands. I popped into the tourist center for directions and they gave me a list of busses to take around Korea to get to my destination-Ganghwa. Three to four hours later, after a one hour ride already to Incheon, I finally arrived in Ganghwa ready to see some ancient tombs and a unique glimpse of North Korea.

I looked in my wallet and noticed I had only 5,000 Korean Won left which is really only less than five bucks. I went to the ATM, but the machine did not accept my card. I went to another machine and again was shot down. I had plenty of foreign currency, but it was Sunday and everything was closed. Essentially, I couldn't get what I needed to get. I returned back to the ticket counter, broken hearted, and with the money I had left purchased a ticket back to Seoul without seeing any of the things I had wanted to see.

When I returned back to Seoul, I treated myself to a nice BBQ dinner followed by a relaxing soak in a Sauna (a must try for anyone in Korea). In the Itaewon district, I went to this massive four story complex of a sauna. The basement with the pools were separated by gender. However, the top three floors, where you wore special pajamas, was open to both sexes to mingle and integrate. On these floors were dry saunas, restaurants, cafes, movie theaters, massages, bedrooms... you name it, they had it! It's a great place for families to come and just relax.

After the sauna, feeling holistically renewed, I made my way back to my Hanock and nestled into a deep slumber while the flames below gently rose and rocked me to sleep.

From your gamsa hamnida Korea guy, Michael.

A Little Heart and Seoul

2009-03-09T06:38:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday afternoon, my boss called me up on the phone and asked if I would like to go to Korea tomorrow. Without thinking it through, I replied with an affirmative. He then went to book the tickets as I thought about all the preparation I had to do in the next twenty four hours to prepare for this trip. Who would take care of my bird? When could I go pick up a guide? Where can I purchase some traveler's cheques? How will I make up for lost time at my Chinese Class. Eventually, it all worked out fine and I was on my way, twenty four hours later, to the land of Hanguel-speaking natives.

I won't bore you too much with the specifics of the first forty-eight hours. Essentially, my boss and I met with each of our clients independently in Korea, learning more about their schools and devising ways in which we could help them. In the evenings, we sprinkled in a bit of tourism and culinary experimentation.

I would say that the single most enthralling element about Korea is their food. My boss recently admitted, much to both of our chagrin, that he actually preferred Korean food to Taiwanese food. I would not have such blasphemy present before me. I have sworn by Taiwanese food and I will continue to argue that Taiwanese food is Asian food at the zenith of its possibility. Except of stinky tofu. And maybe chicken butts. But regardless, this was a bold admission from a man who has devoted so much praise to our little island. This could only suggest that my taste buds were in for something quite extraordinary.

His hype was unnecessary- the food spoke for itself. While I will not say it surpasses a good beef noodle soup in Taiwan, I will say Korean's can be very proud of what they eat. Essentially, our dining experience revolved around one basic concept: grilling. A man's fantasy: sit around at your kitchen table with some burning charcoals in the middle barbecuing up some fresh meat. While the food was sumptuous, the sides contributed greatly to the feast. When ordering a rack of pork ribs or some braised beef, it always comes with a healthy portion of kimchee, salad, sauces, and countless other dishes to complement the central fan fare.

Every morning we woke up, after a night of gorging, made us regret eating so much meat and swearing off anything that oinks or moos for the rest of our lives. However, like men who don't learn from their hangovers, we were right back in the barbecues each night trying some chicken, spicy meat, and other delicious tenderloins. The grills were, quite possibly, the greatest things one could ever hope to find in their lives.

During dinner, naturally, we often gravitated toward a certain topic of discussion: would a restaurant like this actually survive in the United States? Would people enjoy cooking their own food? Would the restaurant be liable for someone who undercooked their meat and suffered food poisoning? I will say our estimation of the American psyche found them unprepared for this sort of cuisine, but we can hope that one day the states will be ready.

After dinner one night, my boss and I went to a local Hof, which is essentially a traditional Korean Bar. A small bar in th Bundang region just south a Seoul, this was full of hanguel speaking masters with little Engish ability. For example, when asking where the toilet was, I was given the bill instead. However, our ability to point got us what we wanted and our mastery of one Korean word, Dongdongju, whetted our whistle. Dongdongju is a traditional creamy rice wine. Usually served in a kettle and then poured into a wooden bowl (our bowls were metal as we were in a very local place not fit for tourists) it is a very strange drink. I almost felt like a kid again, sneaking a sip of my father's beer again. At first it was strange and revolting, but the taste lingered and suddenly there was new beauty in this very adult taste. Dongdongju has a tarty zing to it, almost as if it were carbonated. Ordering a squid pancake to go along with this drink (I picked around the squid), my boss and I drank up and rode the subway back to our hotel.

The following day, Saturday, found me left in Seoul while my boss went back to Taiwan. I wanted to get some sightseeing in at this point. I had already seen the Great East Gate, called Dongdamuen. Interestingly, the Korean language stems greatly from the Chinese Language. In the 15th century (it seems like everything happened in the 15th century for Korea, by the way) the scholards of the time possesed great power because they were literate and the commoners were not. Much of the writing was done in Chinese Characters, making much of the knowledge innaccessible to most. The Great East Gate is actually based on Chinese Characters 東大門, or Dong Da Men. Maybe I could pick up some Korean after Chinese study... Most likely not.

To be continued..., Michael.

The Din Tai Fung Club

2009-02-21T00:17:00.001-08:00

Din Tai Fung is a restaurant. No, actually, Din Tai Fung is an institution. Always a cue, always profess- ional service, always the best night out to dinner in Taiwan.

I was first attracted there when I had a dream about Xiao Long Bao, or pork steamed dumplings. Not long afterwards, I flipped through my little Taiwan guide to come across Din Tai Fung as highly recommended. After my first class, I went there for dinner. The dumplings were so good, I went again the next night. And the next night. And the next.

Pretty soon I was known around the restaurant almost as well as their famous dish, the steamed dumplings. I befriended most of the waitresses, most noticibly so Singing (who has a fantastic command of the English language and the beginning signs of an Australian accent). Over the weeks of eating there, the owner if Din Tai Fung began to take notice of my patronage.

One Wednesday night, after I helped myself to two baskets of dumplings, containing 10 each, Singing came up to me and asked if I wanted to join the owner for a private dinner that evening. Although I just stuffed myself silly on the dumplings, I enthusiastically accepted.

Abut 30 minutes prior to the start of the Dinner, the owner, Mr. Yang, joined me upstairs and we chatted for a little bit. I used what Chinese vocabulary I had and he used what English vocabulary he had to introduce ourselves.

It wasn't long before 10 o'clock rolled around and Mr. Yang's friends started to join us- doctors, lawyers, high society and Taipei's elite were sitting around a table at an exclusive dinner gathering at one of the most famous restaurants in Asia (with locations in Japan, China, Korea, Indonesia, Australia, USA, Hong Kong, etc). Politics, sports, and general ideas were naturally discussed. People were cerainly interested in where I came from. Surprisingly, nearly all of them had studied in Boston at one time or another.

The food was delicious, and consequently, not on the menu. The conversations evolved into comraderie and with the excellent french wine served (nothing outside Bordeaux and nothing under ten years of age). Soon enough, Mr. Yang told me that I was like his brother and that I was invited to all of their Wednesday evening gatherings and to the global Din Tai Fung corporate party on April 8th. Obviously, I was very honored. He even gave me VIP status, precluding me from the wait at the restaurant. This means that, on heavy trafficked weekends when the queue can last over 100 people, I will automatically be bumped to the front.

So now, I join Mr. Yang and his social circle every Wednesday night for good food, excellent taste in wine, and a tempered display of happiness and joyful dining. I have even joined Mr. Yang on private lunches around Taipei to glorious Thai restaurants with his family and other Chinese restaurants that have garnered fame (it's interesting to see where the owner of the most famous restaurant in Asia eats out).

Until next time, your VIP carrying Xia Long Bao loving, Din Tai Fung idolizing, new friend found revelling, Michael.

Something's Brewing

2009-02-19T07:22:00.001-08:00

Sometimes knowing only a few words in Chinese is much more dangerous than knowing no words in Chinese. My Taipei brothel adventure is a perfect example of that.

On a regular winter's evening, I decided to head off to an older part of the city in the Longshan Temple area. With a quick return to the old temple, I proceeded on over to the famed night market that is affectionately known as snake alley. (Locals try to convince me it is called snake alley because of the snake shops, snake charmers, and snake cuisine, but the conspicuous presence of sex and dildo shops may convince me otherwise!)

After some great hearty meals (no cobra this time), I decided I wanted to get some tea and enjoy the evening. As I walked passed an alley, I looked down and saw row upon row of tea houses. Although I couldn't make out the characters on the building, I did recognize the character for tea and decided this would be my best bet.

I walked down the alley and entered the first tea house. I politely told them that I wanted a table for one. The lady behind the counter looked at me and then gave me a sassy but sexy "oooohhhhh". That was very strange, but what was even more strange was that I saw no tables in this tea house. I did notice that there was a staircase so I assumed the tea settings were upstairs. But just to be safe I asked them if they had any tea. They told me they had something called "Pao Cha".

Backing up in my times here in Taiwan, I remember going to a tea house in Mao Kong and I remember someone telling me about Pao Cha. In reality, "pao cha" means to brew tea. But, lost in translation, I thought that Pao Cha was actually a type of tea that I was drinking. The type of tea I was drinking was cal Bao Jhong Cha, or Iron Goddess tea and it made me absolutely crazy- a hypered and drunk altereation of my state of mind.

Recalling my experience with my last "pao cha" I told the young lady behind the country of this tea house in Longshan that I didn't want pao cha. I asked if she had any green tea, as this is usually all I can handle late at night. She looked at me a little puzzled, and then said, "Not a teahouse." Odd response, I thought, as it clearly said tea outside, so I went to the next one. The same drill ensued where I asked if they had green tea and they told me it wasn't a tea house.

Frustrated, I walked back outside straight into a group of "ladies of the night". These gals were pretty aggressive but they all kept saying the same thing: "pao cha? pao cha?" Now some lights were going off. I looked back into the "tea houses" and noticed men running from one room to the next with young women half dressed behind them. It was then I realized that I wasn't in a tea house, but a brothel and they weren't making tea- they were making something that wasn't on the menu!

It didn't take me long to scurry out of that little area and back into the safety of the snake charmers and sex stores. From your friend in Taiwan after his first and only visit to a brothel, your pao cha double entendre gentleman of the evening, Michael.

St. Valentine on Speed

2009-02-15T17:47:00.000-08:00

For those celebrating Singles Awareness Day on February 14th, there was another option in Taiwan. Hosted by our lantern festival friends at Language Cafe and by yours truly at Reach to Teach, there was an evening of speed dating. Initially against the idea, I ended up finding myself in that long line of eligible bachelors chatting away the hours with an equally long line of young maidens. I found myself in this predicament when language cafe called me in a panic a few days before the event telling me they didn't have enough foreign guys coming. I dialed all the single men on my cell phone and between a friend of mine and I, we rounded up all the necessary numbers, but still short one. Without any real viable options, I told them I would be happy to join the games. Although I was lying, I was also fooling myself- turns out it was a lot of fun!

The speed dating event was at a local 60s bar. Naturally, the men gravitated towards the other guys as the women were mostly too frightened to chat it up with the gents. The whole event was just like a Junior High School dance- awkward and promising, yet ultimately leading no where.

The event started with all the guests taking their seats. Then, to mix things up, all the men were instructed to move two chairs to their left and turn on their charisma! As I looked across at my first date, I noticed something odd. There was something about her that wasn't present about all the other women. Or should I say, something was lacking about her. Lacking so much that she wasn't there at all- my first date was late and so I was stuck staring at a Bob Marley poster. I think I might be the only guy in history to have me "speed date" stand me up!

But five minutes passed and I moved onto my next (first) conversation. The conversation took place 50/50 in Chinese and English. I found it great practice as I got to ask the same questions in Chinese over and over again- "What do you do?" "What do you like to do for fun?" "Do you like the right side of the left side of the bed?" Really standard first date items! As my confidence built up, I became more adventurous in my Chinese conversation. In fact, I even conducted three or four five minutes dates ENTIRELY in Chinese. That was a solid victory.

At the end, we had to choose our top three picks of the evening and if there were matches, they would hook the folks up. Of the 20 couples or so, there were 9 matches and I was one of them. I gave my date a present (a box of Aunt Stella Valentine cookies) and she gave me a Lilo and Stitch tape measure (apparently for the sexual innuendo...). The night finished off with an all you can drink open bar and some dancing at a night club.

From your Taipei hustler with 20 dates in one night kind of guy, Michael.