Days 9 & 10: Trying to Slow Down in Taipei, Or, A Lost Cause

Conscious that I had been going pretty hard at the whole tourist thing for at least a week, walking at least ten kilometres a day (and up to 20), I resolved to try and take it easy before my long-haul flight to Paris. Though I have little idea of exactly how much I weighed when I began this trip, I’m convinced that now I must have lost at least five kilograms, and I’m discovering muscles in my legs that I never knew existed. It’s a great feeling, but I’ve been wary of exhausting myself so I declared Friday and Saturday low-intensity days.

For the first half of Friday, which I spent writing my last blog entry, it was all going well, but then I got an email from a local TravBuddy who was keen to show me around. An oddly secretive person, the only hint of a name I got from him was Phillip Pirrip, but this was certainly a nom de plume. When I asked him what I should call him on my blog, he told me: John Doe. At that point I couldn’t help wondering: what is it about me that draws oddballs? And then: is it me? Or is it Taipei? Is it just full of oddballs? I still honestly don’t know.

We arranged to meet at 3pm outside the Spot Film House, a great little complex set up in the former US ambassador’s residence on Zhongshan North Road, containing a café and restaurant, a gift shop, good range of arthouse DVDs and a 98-seat cinema, the only one in Taipei, apparently, to show arthouse movies. (I considered seeing something but they were only showing a French film – The Beaches of Agnes – with Mandarin subtitles. Might have been a bit lost on me.)

Currently run by famed director Hou Hsiao-hsien, its restaurant is modestly titled Le Ballon Rouge, after the French film for which Hou himself provided a remake of sorts in 2007. The walls of the gift shop are covered with pictures of Taiwan’s great directors, among them my favourites Edward Yang and Tsai Ming-liang and, of course, Hou. When I pointed at the picture of Yang and told Phillip he was my favourite, all he could say was, “Yes, but unfortunately he is dead.” Not a warm person.

We caught the train over to Taipei East to check out some of the city’s big attractions. By big, I mean large in size and scale, but also popular I suppose. ‘Large’ is not really something Taipei is very interested in: normally it’s all about economy of space. Regardless, we visited one of the Eslite bookstores, which are really more like book department stores, spread over three or four floors. To give you a sense of its scale, there were ten shelves devoted to ‘Architecture for Food Service Outlets’.

Taipei 101 – formerly the world’s tallest building but now, since the completion of Dubai’s Burj Khalifa, merely the world’s tallest office building – sits not far from Eslite, and contains at its base a shopping mall just like the hundreds that dot Hong Kong. All the reliables are there – Versace, Prada, blahblah – but it was all starting to feel a bit vulgar. It was here that I asked Phillip what he did for a living and he admitted to being a stem cell researcher. His reasons for not sharing his name with me suddenly became clear. I had no interest in queuing with the 300 tourists who were ascending to the observation deck, so we went off to eat.

Din Tai Fung is considered one of Taiwan’s best restaurants; indeed, it is now a chain with stores around the world, including Sydney. The branch we visited was very large and full even at the relatively early dinner time of 6pm. Phillip was very keen to impress on me how the restaurant had been recognised by the New York Times as one of the world’s best. I admit I was sceptical.

And, I’m sorry to say: my suspicions were well-founded. While the dumplings were delicate, plump and well-flavoured, and filled with broth that explodes when you bite in, there’s no escaping the fact that they were dumplings – delicious and comforting no doubt, but just dumplings. They didn’t need to be hyped up by the New York Times. They could be enjoyed for what they were, but: one of the world’s best restaurants? Even with my very limited experience, I knew better.

[Side note: I did like Phillip’s story about how they’re not allowed to hire tall chefs to fold the dumplings as it’s considered a health and safety risk, each dumpling apparently requiring eighteen meticulous folds, and thousands being folded every day.]

We headed over to the square outside Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall to watch the first night of the Lantern (or Shang Yuan) Festival, the last in a series of springtime celebrations, and considered a sort of ‘second New Year’ party. After a bit of a wait, the lights were finally turned on, heralded by fireworks, music and a sea of flashing camera phones. All the excitement was essentially about a big, kind of daffy-looking tiger made out of wire, stockings and light globes but, for me, the real attractions were the smaller lantern displays made by local school students: a long row of floats featuring all manner of creatures and plants rendered in light and colour. The effect was quite magical. I would’ve loved that sort of thing as a kid, and, reassuringly, its appeal wasn’t lost on me now.

 

Finally, we went to look at a strange image being projected onto the wall of Taipei City Hall. If you look closely at the picture, you can see that inside the tiger's mouth is a projected image of a child's face. I'm not sure of the symbolism of this, but the large gathered crowd suggested there was something appealing about the idea of a child screaming out from inside the belly of a big cat.

Phillip and I went our separate ways and I wondered why I had found him so irritating. Was it me? Or was it something in his passive-aggressive manner? All afternoon he offered me options for things we could do, then tried to persuade me one way or another. I couldn’t help but be reminded of Winston’s underhanded behaviour. Still, he gave me a lot of insight into Taiwanese culture and politics, and showed me some good stuff. So I should just be grateful and shut up.

On Saturday I managed to truly catch up on much-needed rest, having a late breakfast and staying in most of the morning sending emails home and watching rubbish on YouTube.

In the afternoon, I decided to go for a walk to look for some more CD stores. I headed over to visit Chia Chia in Ximen, a popular music store in a popular shopping strip (not far from Modern Toilet) but, when I got there, realised I had already visited with Winston. What an idiot.

I had a nice lunch at a place called Tricycle and decided to walk to the Taipei Botanical Gardens. They were nice, and welcome respite amidst the bustle, but not among Taipei’s ‘big’ attractions. I was in and out in about 45 minutes. Refusing to walk any more, I caught a train back to Zhongshan near the Dandy and napped for an hour or two, then ventured out to find somewhere for dinner.

I settled on a Japanese place with no discernible English name. It was quiet and dimly lit – just my style. The waitresses were a little scared of me for my lack of Mandarin, and giggled at my constant hsieh hsiehs but I managed to order quite successfully, including a bottle of beer. When I’d finished my meal and devoured a delicious coconut custard dessert (my two favourite sweet ingredients), I ordered a second bottle. It was Saturday night after all.

What I didn’t realise was that the waitresses would keep bringing me unsolicited plates of food for as long as there was beer in my glass – first a small bowl of delicious fried fish cubes, then a long, thin strip of seared pepper steak. They were very tasty, and helped the beer go down, but I left feeling more than a little overfull. They’re generosity was deeply touching, though, especially as I’d spent the bulk of the day alone and a bit listless.

I slept deeply for a long time.