Even More Yangmingshan (sorry)

Trips up to the northern hills on the 260 bus (simple and convenient from Taipei Main Station, especially if you can turn out early enough to catch the speedy and near empty 7am service) have now turned into a regular Sunday diversion for me, so I’m boring you all with the same old stuff once again.
Last Sunday the forecast was very promising (and I had bought new, sticky-soled hiking shoes), so I got up very early and ambled off towards the station, admiring the clarity of a springlike sunrise below high stretched wisps of cirrus cloud, and surprising myself by catching the 7am bus.

New shoes (and damp, mossy stones)

By a quarter to eight I was wandering up the Sidewalk Trail again, but by that time I had discovered the peculiarity of Yangmingshan’s climate –  a great raft of winter cloud, while retreating dutifully from sunny Taipei, had become marooned low on Qixing Shan, and, dragged across the flank of this mountain was slowly releasing its ballast of vapour as a fine drizzle, seeming to condense on every leaf, saturating mossy trunks and stones, and dripping from branch and twig, ultimately, it seemed, onto my hat, and, if foolishly revealed, my camera.
The base of this mist monster stood at about 600m, and it reached its thickest and most impenetrable between Zhuzihu and Xiaoyoukeng, where the park road crosses valley and hiking trail on a huge, and at that time almost invisible, concrete span.

Thick fog near Xiaoyoukeng

The majority of the next stretch ran high around the northern side of Qixing Shan, starting in thick, dripping forest, but eventually emerging as stony lane carved into steeply sloped swathes of arrow bamboo. This undulated gently along the contours, and I was cosily contained in a rug of thick grey white fog, insulated, for the most part, from roads and all other signs of external reality.

Shiny damp stones wind through the arrow bamboo

Beautifully misty hillside near Xiaoyoukeng

A pair of rich brown bamboo partridges paused on the path to give me hard stares before disappearing between close-packed stalks – apparently little else can cope in arrow bamboo groves, but they seemed perfectly at ease.
Suddenly, almost unaccountably, the cloud curtain was gone, a whole valley uncovered without warning, with a rapidity that made me gasp. The thickly wooded walls were in places tinged with golden sunlight, while shreds of cloud slowly stretched into long trails before tearing free of the foliage. Strangely, although this scene was undeniably beautiful, and I had been hoping for the weather to clear, the emotion provoked by this was a lurching feeling of sudden nakedness, as my world was adjusted, in a heartbeat and without warning, to include a huge vista of jagged green valley.

Hills emerging from the cloud near Xiaoyoukeng

 

Hills emerging from the cloud near Xiaoyoukeng

As I proceeded clouds slid across the landscape in shreds and billows, revealing and hiding great sections of landscape every few minutes.

Hills emerging from the cloud near Xiaoyoukeng

I had decided to return to the Miaopu trailhead and visitor centre via Qixing Park rather than attempting once again to find the southern section of the loop as described by Richard Saunders.
Qixing Park delivered stunning views across the city and beyond, but was very busy. This route also, fortunately or otherwise, led to my scaling the East Peak of Qixing Shan, which, while worth doing (I suppose), was fairly terrifying, in that I have long nourished a phobia around all aspects of heights and slippery or uneven surfaces. Almost all climbing and descending in Yangmingshan is accomplished by means of huge flights of stone steps of impressively careful construction, but understandably the topmost sections of the Qixing Shan paths are both very steep and somewhat rough.
This was exacerbated, terrifyingly, by the huge volume of walkers, which turned the paths into crawling two-way human highways.

Traffic jam on Qixing Shan

This had the effect of forcing me to maintain a constant speed without pausing or giving in to the waves of mild panic that arose at every slight slip or misstep, so that was probably a good thing, in the long run, and character-building, etc., but at the time felt rather unbearable, and I was hugely grateful when I reached the trailhead and the visitor centre.
This discomfort was by no means mitigated by the fact that many Taiwanese hikers (mainly but not exclusively those in later middle age) carry small radios or MP3 players which constantly warble tinnily, often, in hilly places, also buzzing as the radio signal waxes and wanes. This is an interesting point of cultural difference, which, in this case, with the huge number of people walking and chatting, made little practical difference to my walk, but which often, in a thickly forested section of path where the air is filled with a combination of rustling branches or creaking bamboo, dripping leaves and birdsong, seems to me a misguided manner in which to enjoy the beauty of this national park.

Today’s weather was much the same as the initial stages of last week’s expedition, but the walk, largely due to the fading stages of a head cold, was much shorter – I merely reconnoitred the link trail from the Miaopu trailhead along the southern flanks of Qixing Shan over to Lengshuikeng. While not granting walkers the spectacular views available from Qixing Park, this paved route across thickly forested hillsides has considerable advantages over last week’s path (it isn’t all steps, for one thing).

Cloudy forest, Yangmingshan

Today, in thick cloud and constant thin drizzle, the forest was beautiful, with dark, saturated branches and mossy boulders, and rain-slicked bright leaves in the foreground greying, like an infinitely complex array of theatre flats, into the cloud-white near-distance. It was wet but worth it, and I have now finally closed the final stage of my loop walk. Unfortunately the photos are not great, as the weather was so damp I had to more-or-less whip out my camera, focus approximately, shoot and stuff it back into the bag before it got really wet. Sorry! The only ones that came out were the close-up shots of mossy stones back near the visitor centre, so here’s one as an apology.

Mossy stone-scape, Yangmingshan

Sky Lanterns 天燈

On Sturday the MTC organized a student trip to release sky lanterns at Shifen 十分. The weather was unusually marvellous, considering the time of year, and even though the relevant authorities had us stand around for rather a long time both before releasing lanterns. President Ma himself turned up and wrote on the really enormous lantern at the centre of the thing, and thousands of other folk turned up to light and release their own lanterns – the effect was very impressive. Afterwards, we were (well, judging by the widespread complaining, I was) entertained by the sight of mist-wreathed mountain peaks and large moths and bats darting around above the crowd, not to mention thousands of lanterns drifting slowly across the night sky, as we trudged slowly back to the coaches. I’d write more, but have a headache and a test tomorrow, so, well, excuses, excuses…

Chaos in the queue - we were assigned to coaches and followed LED placards through the enormous crowd

 

More Yangmingshan 陽明山

After enjoying the Tianmu Old Trail so much, even in the rain, I decided to make Yangmingshan the theme of my New Year holiday, regardless of weather or visibility. I wandered over to Eslite and bought Richard Saunders’ guide to walking around the place (very useful – here on Worldcat) and one of the maps he recommended (less useful, but apparently as good as it gets).

Having consulted this, I went back on Monday to try the Banling Old Trail as an alternative route into the park from Tianmu. While this route does not have the huge number of steps of the Tianmu Old Trail, the first half involves rather more road walking, and runs along some slippery concrete, some of which appears to border a former rubbish dump. The sight of discarded shoes, newspapers and all sorts of other odds and ends, combined with an overhanging onion-and-egg sulphur smell, makes this trail rather less inviting than other options.

The top half of the trail, however, which runs from Shamao Road 紗帽路 around the side of Shamao Shan 紗帽山 up to Hushan Road 湖山路 near the beginning of the Sidewalk Trail running up to the Yangmingshan Visitor Centre, is much more fun. A steep flight of steps leads to a lane and a small locked shrine. From there an unsurfaced track follows the contours of the hillside between clumps of bamboo, with occasional views across the valley.

 

 

The Sidewalk Trail runs from near the top of this along to the Visitor Centre for coffee, noodles and buses.

On Wednesday I caught the 260 bus from the back of the railway station right up to the Yangmingshan bus station, and walked down to the Shamao Shan 紗帽山 trailhead.

 

This path consists of a kilometre and a bit of stone steps climbing to the round summit of Shamao Shan 紗帽山, where a small viewing platform ought to afford glimpses right across Taipei and beyond, but when I visited only offered misty drizzle and high winds. The hill is home to a troupe of formosan macaques, but apart from torn orange peel I saw no signs of them.

Another kilometre or so of twisty steps through dense forest brings you down to Shamao Road 紗帽路, from which, after a bit of road walking it is possible to join the second and best part of the Banling Trail and enjoy the bamboo before arriving at the visitor centre and buses.

 

Today’s trip, following various elements of the Sidewalk Trail from the bus station around Seven Stars Mountain, was mostly marvellous – although the path runs alongside the road, the road itself is largely out of sight from the trail.

Starting in dense woodland (and, today, in thick fog), the path eventually rises into view of the northern mountains at Xiaoyoukeng 小油坑, and along steep mountainsides at Lengshuikeng 冷水坑. The sun came out, for the first time in a week, to highlight this spectacular section.

After this the trail drops down through more dense forest, and eventually emerges at the Zhongshan Building, but the latter section is not well signposted, so I missed it and walked to the Chinese Culture University and caught the bus back downhill.

First expedition to Yangmingshan 陽明山

This is a very ebarrassing post, as it reveals that, until today, I had never managed to get myself to Yangmingshan 陽明山, the national park that sits very conveniently just to the north of Taipei. Today, armed with the knowledge that I have a whole week to get my various bits and pieces of homework done, I took the MRT to Zhishan芝山, and wandered north up Zhongshan Road 中山路 to the Tianmu Old Road 天母古道.

This climbs, via many many many well-laid steps, up to the Yangmingshan boundary, and is tiring but marvellous. For a while it follows a great black water pipe laid by the Japanese in 1928. The gentle roar of water from this lent the walk an added touch of atmosphere. The sun even came out for a bit, and the views from the top were rather good despite the cloud and mist. The monkeys didn’t come out, though. Numerous notices warn visitors not to do anything stupid (feeding, attacking, attempting to hide food from, etc.), but it seems they generally emerge at dawn and dusk.

From the top of the Tianmu Old Road signs direct one to the Yangmingshan Visitor Centre, although this turns out to be some distance away, up Shamao Road, and past various strongly sulphurous vents and drains – even the drains by the roadside smell like a noisome combination of elderly boiled egg and rotten onion. This culminated about halfway along the road in a steaming stream, which looked very impressive, but hasn’t been captured too well here.

The visitor centre is a little way from the Yangmingshan bus station, but pedestrians can follow the winding ‘sidewalk path’, which is very pleasant, and features lots of interesting, if sometimes rather patronising, information boards. From the visitor centre, which has a large set of educational displays, a small bookshop/cafe and toilets, I wandered vaguely off to the Maopu trailhead and set off in the direction of Qixing (or Seven Stars) Mountain 七星山. This path is about 80% steps, rising about 600m, and I chickened out of following it to the peak, partly due to the misty dampness, and partly out of sheer weariness at the damnable steps. The route was, however, very impressively atmospheric, and I will be back!

Wistaria Teahouse 紫藤廬

The Wistaria Teahouse 紫藤廬 zǐ​ténglú (I’m not sure why it is Wistaria rather than Wisteria, there is even a labelled Wisteria in the small garden to the side of the building) is a real treat, and the kind of place I had hoped to find in Taipei.

Located in a rather interesting and elegant building at Xinsheng S Rd Section 3 Lane 16 no. 1 新生南路三段十六巷一號 (i.e., on Xinsheng a little way south of the junction with Heping Road 和平路), it serves a wide range of impressive teas in beautiful surroundings. Unfortunately I think my photos were a little too focussed on the tea, so you’ll have to visit to see the building.

There are rooms with chairs and tables, and Japanese-style rooms with mats on the floor. So far I have only tried the chair and table approach, but will be returning soon to sample as much as I can afford.

Tea is served the complicated way, with a spirit burner to keep your water hot, and all the proper Chinese tea gubbins. The helpful staff will happily demonstrate (in English or Chinese) how to use these to best effect. The menu mentions that some Song Dynasty bowls are in use, but we failed to pursue this further.

Tea prices start at about NT$260 per person (rising to around $5000 if you choose a mid-20th century vintage), so it isn’t necessarily a cheap outing, but it is fascinating and  worth the money. The snacks (we tried the dried peaches) are also marvellous, and meals are served, too.  The website at www.wistariateahouse.com is elegant and explains far more of the history and principles behind this rather marvellous place than I can hope to.

貓空 Maokong

This weekend I finally made it to Maokong 貓空, a hilly area to the south of the city proper, best reached by the gondola from the Taipei Zoo MRT stop (NT$60, or NT$50 for students like me).

The gondola ride is very impressive indeed, swaying gently over several thickly wooded ridges crammed with bamboo and all sorts of other vegetation.

There are actually two classes of gondola ride – the standard and the deluxe ‘crystal’ ride, the latter with a glass-bottomed cabin and insanely long queues, the former with perfectly good angled windows and almost no waiting at all.

When you finally reach Maokong the feel is a little like an Indian hill station (but colder and damper, at least this weekend).

Tea is definitely the focus, with various cafes and teahouses scattered along the few winding roads, and small hedges of the stuff in places.

Some of the teahouses have trays of leaves drying outside, and the Taiwan Tea Promotion Centre even dispenses free mugs of Tieguanyin, and has an impressive garden.

For some reason the only thing I took photographs of was this fallen leaf – I like it a lot.

This cafe (the one with the white-painted woodwork and the cat in its logo – I’m really not sure what the name was, but turn left out of the gondola stop) has very impressive tea and waffles, which I can’t recommend highly enough.

After lurking a bit too long, the weather turned chilly, and the sun began to set in a beautiful way over Taipei during the return gondola ride.

榕樹 Banyan trees

榕樹, or Ficus Microcarpa, or the Small-Leaved Banyan, which is also known, going by the various signs around Taipei, as the India Laurel Fig, is a big favourite of mine.

While I’m sure I must have seen a great many of these in India, they have recently become particularly associated in my mind with Taipei, where they seem to make up a significant proportion of the city’s trees.

Being banyans, they enthusiatically send out wispy beards of roots from the lower branches, hunting for fresh soil.

These are dark brown at their source, fading through rich ruddy shades to a delicate pale yellow at the tip. once they find the ground, though, and start to draw up precious water, they thicken and the bark gradually fades to an elephant grey.

Unfortunately for the city planners, by this point they are probably wrapped tightly around fenceposts and dislodging bricks and mortar as they grow.

 

閑隅 T.Loafer – possibly the best cafe in Taipei?

I am a committed fan of this miniscule but beautifully arranged art/coffee/knicknacks/beer/cake place, walled in by a surprisingly elegant jigsaw of salvaged windows.

The marvellous Melanie spotted it on the shuflies blog (rather better photographed and written than this one, to say the least) , so I was instructed to check it out in preparation for her visit next month.

I am extremely grateful for this instruction, as I had been walking past the end of the street (金山南路141巷 Jinshan South Road Lane 141, T.Loafer is at number 20) almost every day for several weeks without spotting it, and my life, quite frankly, had been impoverished by the lack of Loafer. If you happen to be wandering down Lí​shuǐ Street, look for the junction with the strange police box at the corner.

My weekly visit, every Friday afternoon at about 4pm, is always a highly anticipated treat, and the friendly staff let me doodle as I drink their lovely, hand-ground coffee.

The range of interesting art and designed/crafted things is truly impressive.

While I don’t know how sales are going, the cafe certainly deserves to succeed in its mission to promote local artists and designers.

More food…

This week has been a good one for eating. The weather has been cool and very damp, so aided concentration on hunger and curiosity. Last Saturday I pottered over to the farmer’s market thingy

that sets up just outside Guanghua digital new heaven computer land.

農特產品展售廣場

The row of stalls selling hot food rarely disappoint the peckish visitor (even the clueless ones like me), and I soon found myself tucking into a plate of pumpkin rice noodles  竹塘南瓜米粉

竹塘南瓜米粉

These are certainly tasty, if not too beautifully served (or photographed). The next day I wandered off to Hsinchu 新竹 to meet my language exchange partner, who introduced me to a strange but rather good Hsinchu delicacy, 肉圓 – these seem to be like the stuffed steamed dumplings I have had elsewhere but the spicing is different, and they are apparently cooked at very high temperatures, until they become alarmingly translucent!

肉圓

The slightly sweet spicy sauce could be too much in large quantities, but served alongside a fairly simple meatball soup [for which I am struggling to find characters online] it works rather nicely.

Today I returned to the farmer’s market place and this time sampled the 山豬肉飯 – apart from this being some sort of delicious combination of fatty pork, onions and coriander, served alongside rice, pickles, tofu and braised vegetables, my dictionaries and I are all failing to explain further. In addition to this, I managed to muddle-headedly focus on the tofu and braised vegetables when taking the photo today, so there is just a hint of pork in the top corner. It all tasted great, though.

山豬肉飯

On my way to the MTC, part three

After trundling past the fancy restaurant, I continue southwards down Lín​yí Street 臨沂街, following it across the sometimes busy Jinan Road 濟南路.In the morning this isn’t too bad, but by about six in the evening the lack of pedestrian lights sometimes requires the Tehran approach – walk steadily across, staring down drivers and making them stop. Sometimes I go around and take a crossing with lights! There is also a very useful greengrocers just a block or so to the east, so I can use that as an excuse when my nerves fail.

On the other side of the road there are, among many other things, some trees, and this is an opportunity to mention the way in which many of Taipei’s trees appear to be registered and fitted with information plaques. This is an impressive approach to managing green spaces. This particular tree appears to be a 茄苳樹, which appears to be a Bischofia javanica Blume or Javanese Bishopwood.

Ambling onwards Lín​yí Street 臨沂街 narrows and becomes more residential. On the left I pass a fascinating, if sad, ruin – the remains of one of the bungalows from the Japanese colonial days. There are a number of these standing around the city, between the apartment blocks and towers, almost always surrounded by high walls topped with shards of glass. I always find myself fascinated by this particular site, but have to peep between split boards to make anything out.

Further on the streets get a little complicated, but the angularity of the stacked apartments and their white-painted steel balcony cages is softened by sprays of leaves and flowers. The climate must be good for growing here, and many people take advantage of it, with window-boxes galore and vines creeping everywhere. Sometimes I can also hear the soft strains of violin practice (they must already be quite good at playing) from somewhere in the upper stories.

A sharp right bend and a sudden left turn bring me to Rén​’ài Road 仁愛路, another busy junction, but thankfully this one has a crossing that works properly (even if the scooter riders sometimes ignore these technicalities).