riding the big circle, beaches, typhoons, migrants and snacks
It never ceases to amaze me how utterly exhausted i get sitting behind a desk for 8 hours. It's only Monday and i am already done. I need a vacation so bad. I have taken 6 days off all year and have 12 days of annual leave banked, which i want to carry over 10 of them to next year for my trip to Aotearoa, so 2024 i have two more long weekends to look forward to and and that's it. But even if i took 10 days right now, i doubt it would be enough to recover. Work destroys me.
What makes it so ridiculous is that just yesterday i cycled 100 frickin kilometers. I had gotten my shit together early enough that i decided to try the loop around Linkou in the opposite direction - up the river to Bali, along the coast to the Zhuwei fishing harbor, then through Taoyuan and the New Taipei suburbs back home. I decided if i made it to Bali by noon i'd keep going. And i almost got distracted!
Because i was heading out a bit earlier than normal, the supremely touristy market by the Bali ferry crossing was not a 人山人海 "people mountain people sea" shoulder-to-shoulder shitfest where the only thing you can do on a bicycle is keep rolling slowly in the same direction until the crowds clear. I could actually pause and take a moment to check out the storefronts! And there it was: 陝西涼皮 - Shǎnxī liángpí, the cold noodle dish from Shaanxi province that was one of my favorite snacks in China.
Now, i've said it before and i'll say it again... Do not come to Taiwan expecting to eat good Chinese food. Taiwan really does not have good Chinese food. Compared to China. It doesn't even have good Chinese food compared to cities in the west with a lot of Chinese immigrants (specifically, Vancouver and Richmond BC). This is compounded by the fact that you can't even buy Chinese ingredients in the standard grocery stores, probably due to various sanctions and trade war tit-for-tat. So although my heart leapt seeing liangpi for the first time in years, my expectations were extremely low.
They were exceeded. Just. This was far from the best liangpi i ever had. If i had it in China i would have been thoroughly disappointed at the sliminess of the noodle, suggesting it wasn't freshly made that morning. But in a country where nobody regularly eats liangpi in the first place, and where about the only time you ever find authentic Chinese snacks is in touristy areas as a gimmick dish... it was better than i thought it was going to be. The chili was not as spicy as it is in China, but it was spicier than most "spicy" Taiwanese food. The vinegar was excellent. I've never found Shaanxi-style dark vinegar in the grocery stores here, but somehow they got it in my Baliのliangpi. Cucumber, carrot, 麵筋 (spongy wheat gluten), and - hilariously - not just peanuts but also crispy fried soy bean, almost as if someone had asked two different people what comes on a liangpi and they got two different answers (because in China the crunchy element depends on the vendor's preference) and decided to go with both.
But while i discovered the stall making liangpi, i couldn't find a place doing fresh watermelon juice, and i didn't feel like sugar cane juice, and i didn't have any change in my pocket to put into a Hey Song vending machine to get sweet tea, so i rather stupidly continued on with just my liter o' water getting progressively more parched. I stopped off at one of my usual beaches where the only people who are there are fishermen and RC plane enthusiasts, and went out to have a paddle, but the sand was really liquidy and unstable, and i didn't want to get stuck up to my knees again so beat a hasty retreat.
On one hand, i like that Taiwan's coastline being mostly swamp, quicksand, cliffs and jaggedy rock makes it very difficult for China to invade. On the other hand, it's vaguely disappointing to live on a Pacific island and not have any glorious beaches.
So i made a detour to the Liao Tianding temple where i picked up a bottle of homemade 微糖青草茶 then went back down to my favorite fishing spot to watch boats and drink tea.
This is usually where i turn around and head back to the city, but with my new little folding bike and the wind at my tail, i continued along the coast, cycling the frontage road with 8 lines of traffic beside me. It's certainly much nicer to go southbound on a bicycle because instead of being trapped between a mountain and freeway, at least on one side it's open sea. Well, a bunch of factories mostly. But - beyond the factories - the sea!
And i found a new secret beach. It's not really a secret i suppose, seeing as there was at least a no swimming sign. But it felt part of the family of Taiwan's typically unmarked beaches, surrounded by heavy industry and located at the end of questionable driveways or through abandoned construction sites where it's not entirely clear if you're allowed to go in at all.
I found myself a quiet spot on top of an old wall and just hung out feeling the wind in my hair.
I thought about the typhoon that slammed us on Thursday. It uprooted 2000 trees all over Taipei, but by Friday morning most of them were already bagged and tagged. People at work the next morning said "it was crazy! the lights were flickering!" And i had to tell my colleagues that while they might be in shock that the lights were flickering during a super typhoon, in less civilized countries you get full-ass power cuts for hours, days, or - if the less-civilized country is Texas - fucking weeks! To be fair, some communities in southern and rural areas did lose power and water for a bit, but the response teams got shit sorted ASAP. It's nice to live in a country where the infrastructure just fucking works.
I wondered about the people who had somehow swabbed INDONESIA into the seawall. I always see more migrant workers on the beach than in town, and i don't know if it's because southeast Asians disproportionately like going to the beach, or if it's because Taiwanese people (and, apparently, white people) dislike it so much. Maybe it's just that the beaches i tend to enjoy visiting are nestled in between the factories, ports and fishing harbors where the blue collar migrants work?
I see the woman in hijab sitting there alone. Is she a care worker, looking after a wealthy old Taiwanese person, her kids and family somewhere back in Surabaya? I see the tanned-brown youth, thin and wiry, gripping a can of beer as he catches up on gossip with a buddy. Did he just come back from a month-long tour at sea, getting rammed or sprayed down with water cannons by the Chinese "coast guard", no access to internet or phone? Does he miss his family in Cebu? Will these migrants settle in Taiwan, or are they just here to earn? What could motivate them to live such a tough life with low pay and restricted rights? How much worse was it for them back home? And yet, there it was, the name of one migrant's home country scrawled upon the wall, an expression of pride, perhaps? Longing? Sadness?
Or, you know. Just some kids having fun.
The places that are peaceful enough you can sit down, ponder the world and make up stories about the people around you are my favorite.
I got back on my bike, then, and headed on to the fishing harbor. It's not really a working harbor like the one i stopped at back in Bali. Zhuwei is a tourist trap, at least for local tourists. White tourists don't come to this kind of place. I found a deep fry stand and got me a giant sweet potato rösti and some 蘿蔔糕 radish cake, which almost - but not quite - hit my fish and chips spot. I also picked up some pineapple to try imagine i was eating something healthy.
The calories felt earned - or at least banked - because i knew i had another 40 plus clicks home. And, annoyingly, Taiwan's timezone is set up such so that sunset happens around 5pm at this time of year, which meant it was a race against time to make it through Taoyuan, onto the riverside greenway and arrive home before turning into a pumpkin. I fucking booked it while the post-typhoon winds did all they could to extend my adventure into the night. The sun dipped below the horizon just as i made it to the last bridge, and when i popped out of the flood barriers into the back streets of Wanhua i was pitched into near darkness. Fortunately i had a light to strap on my bike, and i zigged and zagged through alleys i know fairly well till i found myself back on the main road where i live.
It was about a 7 hour journey all up. I took lots of breaks, but i was sure happy to kick off my flip-flops, have a quick shower and collapse into bed. Well, i cooked up some 芹菜香乾 celery dried tofu first, or at least i attempted to after finding the right kind of celery in the market Saturday... but alas without Chinese cooking wine and soy sauce it didn't really come out the way i wanted. Buying ingredients here still feels like a lucky dip where i think i am getting one thing but then it turns out to be almost, but not quite, entirely unlike what i wanted, and then i need to get through a whole bottle before i can try again. Like, i've gotten this weird dark, musky version of sesame oil, some kind of sushi-like rice vinegar except it's sweet (!), three versions of ostensibly the exact same Taiwanese soy paste condiment that vary from sweet to salty, with no particular indication one way or the other beside the brand name. Two years living here, man, i still can't figure out how to cook basic stuff i cooked all the time not just in China but in other countries too, because those same ingredients are available in Asian grocery stores worldwide. Meanwhile Taiwan is just hanging out in the ocean doing its whole own thing. Such an odd little bubble of country.
But i kinda like it.
What makes it so ridiculous is that just yesterday i cycled 100 frickin kilometers. I had gotten my shit together early enough that i decided to try the loop around Linkou in the opposite direction - up the river to Bali, along the coast to the Zhuwei fishing harbor, then through Taoyuan and the New Taipei suburbs back home. I decided if i made it to Bali by noon i'd keep going. And i almost got distracted!
Because i was heading out a bit earlier than normal, the supremely touristy market by the Bali ferry crossing was not a 人山人海 "people mountain people sea" shoulder-to-shoulder shitfest where the only thing you can do on a bicycle is keep rolling slowly in the same direction until the crowds clear. I could actually pause and take a moment to check out the storefronts! And there it was: 陝西涼皮 - Shǎnxī liángpí, the cold noodle dish from Shaanxi province that was one of my favorite snacks in China.
Now, i've said it before and i'll say it again... Do not come to Taiwan expecting to eat good Chinese food. Taiwan really does not have good Chinese food. Compared to China. It doesn't even have good Chinese food compared to cities in the west with a lot of Chinese immigrants (specifically, Vancouver and Richmond BC). This is compounded by the fact that you can't even buy Chinese ingredients in the standard grocery stores, probably due to various sanctions and trade war tit-for-tat. So although my heart leapt seeing liangpi for the first time in years, my expectations were extremely low.
They were exceeded. Just. This was far from the best liangpi i ever had. If i had it in China i would have been thoroughly disappointed at the sliminess of the noodle, suggesting it wasn't freshly made that morning. But in a country where nobody regularly eats liangpi in the first place, and where about the only time you ever find authentic Chinese snacks is in touristy areas as a gimmick dish... it was better than i thought it was going to be. The chili was not as spicy as it is in China, but it was spicier than most "spicy" Taiwanese food. The vinegar was excellent. I've never found Shaanxi-style dark vinegar in the grocery stores here, but somehow they got it in my Baliのliangpi. Cucumber, carrot, 麵筋 (spongy wheat gluten), and - hilariously - not just peanuts but also crispy fried soy bean, almost as if someone had asked two different people what comes on a liangpi and they got two different answers (because in China the crunchy element depends on the vendor's preference) and decided to go with both.
But while i discovered the stall making liangpi, i couldn't find a place doing fresh watermelon juice, and i didn't feel like sugar cane juice, and i didn't have any change in my pocket to put into a Hey Song vending machine to get sweet tea, so i rather stupidly continued on with just my liter o' water getting progressively more parched. I stopped off at one of my usual beaches where the only people who are there are fishermen and RC plane enthusiasts, and went out to have a paddle, but the sand was really liquidy and unstable, and i didn't want to get stuck up to my knees again so beat a hasty retreat.
On one hand, i like that Taiwan's coastline being mostly swamp, quicksand, cliffs and jaggedy rock makes it very difficult for China to invade. On the other hand, it's vaguely disappointing to live on a Pacific island and not have any glorious beaches.
So i made a detour to the Liao Tianding temple where i picked up a bottle of homemade 微糖青草茶 then went back down to my favorite fishing spot to watch boats and drink tea.
This is usually where i turn around and head back to the city, but with my new little folding bike and the wind at my tail, i continued along the coast, cycling the frontage road with 8 lines of traffic beside me. It's certainly much nicer to go southbound on a bicycle because instead of being trapped between a mountain and freeway, at least on one side it's open sea. Well, a bunch of factories mostly. But - beyond the factories - the sea!
And i found a new secret beach. It's not really a secret i suppose, seeing as there was at least a no swimming sign. But it felt part of the family of Taiwan's typically unmarked beaches, surrounded by heavy industry and located at the end of questionable driveways or through abandoned construction sites where it's not entirely clear if you're allowed to go in at all.
I found myself a quiet spot on top of an old wall and just hung out feeling the wind in my hair.
I thought about the typhoon that slammed us on Thursday. It uprooted 2000 trees all over Taipei, but by Friday morning most of them were already bagged and tagged. People at work the next morning said "it was crazy! the lights were flickering!" And i had to tell my colleagues that while they might be in shock that the lights were flickering during a super typhoon, in less civilized countries you get full-ass power cuts for hours, days, or - if the less-civilized country is Texas - fucking weeks! To be fair, some communities in southern and rural areas did lose power and water for a bit, but the response teams got shit sorted ASAP. It's nice to live in a country where the infrastructure just fucking works.
I wondered about the people who had somehow swabbed INDONESIA into the seawall. I always see more migrant workers on the beach than in town, and i don't know if it's because southeast Asians disproportionately like going to the beach, or if it's because Taiwanese people (and, apparently, white people) dislike it so much. Maybe it's just that the beaches i tend to enjoy visiting are nestled in between the factories, ports and fishing harbors where the blue collar migrants work?
I see the woman in hijab sitting there alone. Is she a care worker, looking after a wealthy old Taiwanese person, her kids and family somewhere back in Surabaya? I see the tanned-brown youth, thin and wiry, gripping a can of beer as he catches up on gossip with a buddy. Did he just come back from a month-long tour at sea, getting rammed or sprayed down with water cannons by the Chinese "coast guard", no access to internet or phone? Does he miss his family in Cebu? Will these migrants settle in Taiwan, or are they just here to earn? What could motivate them to live such a tough life with low pay and restricted rights? How much worse was it for them back home? And yet, there it was, the name of one migrant's home country scrawled upon the wall, an expression of pride, perhaps? Longing? Sadness?
Or, you know. Just some kids having fun.
The places that are peaceful enough you can sit down, ponder the world and make up stories about the people around you are my favorite.
I got back on my bike, then, and headed on to the fishing harbor. It's not really a working harbor like the one i stopped at back in Bali. Zhuwei is a tourist trap, at least for local tourists. White tourists don't come to this kind of place. I found a deep fry stand and got me a giant sweet potato rösti and some 蘿蔔糕 radish cake, which almost - but not quite - hit my fish and chips spot. I also picked up some pineapple to try imagine i was eating something healthy.
The calories felt earned - or at least banked - because i knew i had another 40 plus clicks home. And, annoyingly, Taiwan's timezone is set up such so that sunset happens around 5pm at this time of year, which meant it was a race against time to make it through Taoyuan, onto the riverside greenway and arrive home before turning into a pumpkin. I fucking booked it while the post-typhoon winds did all they could to extend my adventure into the night. The sun dipped below the horizon just as i made it to the last bridge, and when i popped out of the flood barriers into the back streets of Wanhua i was pitched into near darkness. Fortunately i had a light to strap on my bike, and i zigged and zagged through alleys i know fairly well till i found myself back on the main road where i live.
It was about a 7 hour journey all up. I took lots of breaks, but i was sure happy to kick off my flip-flops, have a quick shower and collapse into bed. Well, i cooked up some 芹菜香乾 celery dried tofu first, or at least i attempted to after finding the right kind of celery in the market Saturday... but alas without Chinese cooking wine and soy sauce it didn't really come out the way i wanted. Buying ingredients here still feels like a lucky dip where i think i am getting one thing but then it turns out to be almost, but not quite, entirely unlike what i wanted, and then i need to get through a whole bottle before i can try again. Like, i've gotten this weird dark, musky version of sesame oil, some kind of sushi-like rice vinegar except it's sweet (!), three versions of ostensibly the exact same Taiwanese soy paste condiment that vary from sweet to salty, with no particular indication one way or the other beside the brand name. Two years living here, man, i still can't figure out how to cook basic stuff i cooked all the time not just in China but in other countries too, because those same ingredients are available in Asian grocery stores worldwide. Meanwhile Taiwan is just hanging out in the ocean doing its whole own thing. Such an odd little bubble of country.
But i kinda like it.