Taiwan Road Trip Part I:

Big cities, chicken rice, and alpine tea

Days are very full and therefore moving very fast here in Taiwan. It turns out this small island figuratively floating off the coast of mainland China has much more to offer than the neon bustle of Taipei city. The rains continued to pour down as our jet lag faded away and as the coastal climbing areas to the northeast sat damp and sad against the Pacific we decided to turn our dreary days into a sunny road trip that headed south and into the rugged interior mountains. Therefore, Wednesday morning we loaded Szu-ting's trusty 'Piglet', a miniature Nissan hatchback not seen in US markets, and weaved through Taipei surface streets to finally gain the comfortable Taiwan southerly freeway. I was constantly amazed by the density of Taiwan's cities, for as soon as we left the trappings of Taipei we passed through city after city, each taller and more built up than nearly every large city in the US. Every few miles was yet another tower of industry, a skyscraper of commerce, or a massive housing project fed by even a more massive power plant. Along this flat west coast the Taiwan Straight is churned up and dark brown, the prevailing winds turn mighty windmills, and the interior mountains are shrouded by haze.

Though, here, in the largest cities south of Taipei is where the true character of Taiwanese people and cuisine emerges. Szu-ting usually starts the introduction to each town like this: “the featured food item for here is ______.” This particular evening, in the town of Jah-yi (it should be noted placed names are provided in English by a process called ping-ing in which you just write letters that somehow make the sounds that are the word, an inexact translation as best) the featured item is 'chicken rice' which turns out is exactly that – chicken (cold with all the parts) and rice (warm). It is not my favorite Chinese dish, Szu-ting likes it a lot. I am glad she only ordered one. I instead opt for a grapefruit and honey drink which is fantastic and then eat some little round cakes cooked in a giant-round-waffle griddle on the street. I find a candy store and an Asian bakery that has some sort of ham croissant that is filling. On the streets there is a bustle that is unlike anything American – scooters and cars mix with vendors selling everything, neon lights bath the streets, ally ways fill with steam of cooked everything, and I wonder how a city can be so alive and interactive – there can be nothing more different from an anywhere-America strip mall.

After Jah-yi we begin our easterly ascent and the driving adventure begins. We wind up one and half lane roads into the steep green mountains illuminated by full moon light. The character of the landscape changes immediately and the cities turn to villages as the terrain steepens – there is no longer room for massive cities, only collections of homes and business perched on terraces seemingly carved from the slope. In one high village, surrounded by fields of tea, we find a karaoke celebration at a temple with a view and locate nearby lodging at a beautiful stilted 'bed and breakfast.' It is mid-week and the proprietor welcomes us to his office for tea served from a antique table made from a slice of old-growth cypress. He has much to tell us about his region, Szu-ting does her best to translate but it is late and constant translation in tiring so I let them talk in Chinese, as I watch the particulars of the tea pouring and making. Pour the tea leaves into a ceramic pot, pour the water over them with reckless abandon letting the water spill over and on to the wooden tray, pour the tea from the pot through the strainer and into the glass pot, pour off the first cup sloppily, but use it to warm the small drinking glasses, which have been pulled from boiling water themselves and set out in front of the guests. When the leaves are ready to provide tea pour it carefully into small ceramic jars with narrow necks, turn the jars into the glasses, and let the aroma of the brewed tea sit in the vase for inspection. The tea is ready. Talk, in Chinese, about mystical giant trees in the mountains, of trains climbing into high forests, of Barack Obama and the American economy, and of your home and your tea and your guests. Drink carefully and quickly, yet enjoy each sip. Walk to the veranda and point out the cities below. Welcome your guests once again. Sleep.

Photos: 1)Wind farms line the entire west coast of Taiwan. 2)Elder sister pond in Alishan National Forest 3)Terraces of tea from our lodging high in the mountains.