Rost in Transration

Taipei's climate is essentially tropical, at least now, and it appears to be typhoon season. It is expected to rain all day every day during the duration of my stay here. Feels like N'awlins, except wetter and a bit cooler.

On a side note, my lack of access to mobile Internet on my phone is inconvenient, but to my great surprise, I am somehow managing to survive without it.

Linda's folks took us out to an excellent Peking duck dinner the evening of our arrival, and bought us subway passes for the weekend before sending us off to the Taipei night market. The market is fun -- lots of inexpensive (cheap?) shoes, jewelry, clothes, and foods, though the occasional whiff of "stinky tofu" is enough to stave off the most adventuresome gastronomist. After a couple hours of walking around, we head home and hit the hay.

We must've made a bad impression on Linda's parents, though. First thing Friday morning, they put us on a train at 7:15am that, I'm told after the train departs the station, will take us to a tour three hours outside of Taipei.

Upon arriving after a long, uneventful ride, during which we pass the time by sleeping and playing hold 'em poker on my Treo, we are herded onto a small shuttle bus. It is clear that the little English the tour guide does speak is heavily obscured by his extraordinarily thick accent. We know when he's said something funny, because he routinely laughs at his own jokes. Our two resident Chinese speakers, Linda and Yen Yen, know Chinese at a five-year-old's level, but scarcely more than enough to identify when our guide thinks something or another is special.

The countryside is beautiful -- mountainous and verdant, in a Gorillas in the Mist sort of way. This place looks like every Vietnam movie I've ever seen. It is during this tour that I most acutely perceive the limitations of my pathetic camera phone, which clearly fails to accurately capture the look of the area, much less do it justice.

We make our way into Taroko National Park, home to some of the world's most impressive gorges. The views are breathtaking, and the drive along the cliffside is absolutely terrifying. Our bus cannonballs down the narrow path through a consistent light rain, closely shaving the edge of the sheer drop. In true analytical business student form, we estimate our likelihood of dying at 15%, and hope for a fall that does us in quickly, rather than leaving us at the bottom of the ravine with collapsed lungs, gasping for air. But enough morbidity for now.

After some time, we are let out to take a ten minute hike across a road no longer used by We walk along signs that say, "Beware of falling rocks. Do not loiter," and eventually make our way across the path, where the bus is waiting for us, ready to deliver several subsequent myocardial infarctions to us as it takes us to a cafe. There, we enjoy a delightful kettle of pomelo and honey tea warmed by a tealight (so THAT'S why they're called tealights!).

The rest of the trip proceeds in similar form. Before taking the return train to Taipei, we sample all sorts of goodies from a local mochi bakery and 7-Eleven. (7-Eleven is quite prevalent in Taiwan, and they carry plenty of local flavor as well.) Linda's parents pick us up from the train station when we arrive and treat us to an excellent seafood dinner and shaved ice for desert. In the end, the trip was a welcome reprieve from the daily grind of city tourism I've experienced over the past two weeks. I know I'll sleep well tonight.