Sunday, October 13, 2024
Yesterday’s post was long because lots happened, even though nothing really happened. Today, lots happened. Full stop.
Let’s dive in.
My brother-in-law planned a “family day” for today. My father-in-law used to plan these packed excursions, but my brother-in-law has taken over the duties. He learned them well, too.
Today’s plan was to take us (in two vehicles, one hired, with a driver) to three different places in Yangmingshan Park, then back in Taipei to the Grand Hotel for Peking Duck (A favorite of Melz,) then head out to Jiufen and Jinguashi. That is a busy day by any stretch of the imagination. Let’s see how we got on.
We had to meet at 8:00 AM when the driver was scheduled to show up. On the way, I grabbed a green onion pancake with an egg. They’re more filling that way, and I had a feeling I was going to need the extra protein.
At 8:00 AM, the plans changed almost immediately. Johnny planned to take his wife in his car while Chuwan, I, her parents, and his kids rode in the hired van. The “van” turned out to be a small school bus that easily fit the entire family and carried my mother-in-law’s wheelchair.
My understanding of the original plan was that Johnny would use his car to take my mother-in-law home after lunch and then return. The hired driver was, as best as I can understand, trying to say that it was unnecessary to take two cars and, perhaps, not a good idea. In the end, we all went in the van.
Our first stop was Qingtiangang in Yangmingshan. They’ve been taking me there since my first trip to Taiwan. It’s a grassland area with a population of water buffalo. It’s pretty, and it’s very popular. There is something perverse about it to me. They go into the mountains to see an empty grassland. Mountains, to me, mean forests and trees. It just feels wrong to my sensibilities.
It also took us a long time to get into the parking area at Qingtiangang. The number of parking spots it limited, and access is tightly controlled, like an airport parking garage. There is a gated entrance and a big sign indicating how many spots are available. The number of available spaces was zero, and the line of cars to get in was about ten deep. As one car would leave the parking lot, the gate was opened to allow one car in. We waited 15-20 minutes. Then, the driver had to find that one available spot and fit a small bus into it. He was a pro, but it took a few tries.
It was probably a good idea to take only one vehicle, but even with only one, if we were going to have to wait that long at each stop, we might be pressed to visit all three places in Yangmingshan.
What can I say about Qingtiangang that I haven’t already? It’s a grassy area with water buffalo in the mountains.
Our next stop was the Erziping Visitor Center. The road up to it was winding, passing through dramatic forests and gushing water. Now that’s what I call the mountains! The “visitor center” was little more than a toilet. High up in the hills, on a narrow, winding road, the parking lot was absolutely packed with bike riders, and they were sporting some mighty fine looking bicycles.
Of more practical interest to me was the 1.8 km Erziping trail. In my mind, the only logical thing to do is to go see where that trail leads. Considering how awesome the ride up had been, whatever lay at the actual Erziping must be awesome. I assumed we came to a trailhead to walk the trail, so Melz and I set off.
Although he still wouldn’t speak English (or anything) to me, this was the first time my 8-year-old nephew seemed to take an interest in me, and he followed along, although he was mostly following Melz. Chuwan and my father-in-law followed up from behind, although he dropped out and returned to the visitor center shortly after.
The trail wound through the forest, or perhaps I should call it the jungle. It’s a bit of both, really. It wasn’t particularly steep, but it was wet, muddy, and slippery.
I could tell I wasn’t doing my back any favors, and I also suspected that they hadn’t really intended for us to walk the whole trail, but there’s a certain stubborn perverseness to my nature, and suspecting that made me want to finish the hike all the more.
And when we got to Erziping, I finally learned what it was: Another fucking grassy area.
At least this one had a little lily pond and was, overall, more picturesque, but it certainly felt a bit anti-climactic.
Whatever the third stop had been planned to be, I knew that the parking delays and my hike to Erziping had put an end to that idea. It was probably the flower clock. It’s always the flower clock.
We had to make our way down the mountain for our lunch reservation at the Grand Hotel.
The Grand Hotel is a major landmark in Taiwan, and I’ve never been there. As it is nothing more than a Chinese folly hotel, I’ve never been interested in going.
“Chinese folly” might be unfair, but it’s my opinion. Wikipedia says it’s one of the largest Chinese Classical buildings in the world, but let’s face it, it was built that way to satisfy Chiang Kai-shek’s need to assert that Taiwan was the last true outpost of China to foreign dignitaries. One definition of a folly (in architecture) is: “A building in the form of a castle, temple etc. built to satisfy a fancy or conceit, often of an eccentric kind.”
All boxes checked.
The Grand Hotel has hosted notorious war criminals and monsters such as Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan, Margaret Thatcher, and the Shaw of Iran, plus, I imagine, a few other people who weren’t so awful. The building dominates several views of Taipei and is quite imposing, so imagine my surprise when we entered the Grand Hotel through the Family Mart in the lobby.* Cue trumpet wah wah waaaaah.
Lunch was the aforementioned Peking Duck (which has to be ordered in advance), plus the usual banquet-style Chinese meal. This means that the family picks out several dishes which are shared amongst the diners. They try, often without success, to pick some dishes to accommodate my decidedly Western taste, and they also usually hand me a menu to select one or two dishes that appeal to me.
The Grand Hotel’s menu was very Chinese and more than a bit froufrou. I did find one dish that sounded interesting, but the Grand Hotel was out of it that day. Cue trombone slide.
I’ll spare you (most of) my commentary on the food, save that they serve perfectly good-looking meats ice-fucking-cold, and that duck is one of the most overrated, fatty, greasy birds ever to grace a plate.
Typically, my wife and I have an understanding that after a giant family banquet, she and I go to McDonald’s so I don’t starve. That wasn’t possible today because the magical mystery tour wasn’t over yet! Starvation might still be on the menu.
Our first stop was back to my in-laws’ home to drop off my mother-in-law, but then, in a surprise, unplanned move and over the protestations of my nephews, my brother-in-law, and his family also dropped out of the rest of the tour.
A greatly-diminished pack of only four tourists departed for Jiufen.
Jiufen was a gold-rush town of the 19th and 20th centuries. It sits precariously on a mountainside that slopes right into the ocean on the north side of Taiwan. The gold in the mountains is long tapped out, but the modern gold is tourism.
Jiufen is frequently featured by travel bloggers and vloggers in Taiwan because of its quaint, cramped, mountainous streets, which are often compared to scenes from anime. There’s another thing they are on the Sunday of a holiday weekend: packed.
Our driver, who was very experienced in taking tourists around, suggested that the best way to experience Jiufen was for him to drive us to the top and drop us off. We would then walk to the bottom and call him for a pickup.
None of us wanted to be walking up the stairs of Jiufen, so we readily agreed.
Maybe I’m getting jaded, but I have been to Jiufen more than once before, and with the extra-thronging crowds, it reminded me of nothing more than a diagonal night market. There might have been interesting stuff to see or even some food to eat, but what I wanted was to get the fuck out of the crowd.
Being a major tourist destination, there were public toilets along the way. They’re not particularly nice toilets and they don’t offer much privacy. For example, the urinals are close together and either have no screens between them, or the screens are very, very small, like 15 cm. But you just have to acknowledge that you’ll never see the other humans next to you ever again and go on about your business. Also, as a foreigner, they aren’t going to talk to you.
At one point, I decided it would be prudent to use the restroom, but to get there I had to walk down a very narrow side passage, which came into a small central area that had two more small passages and a larger street. It was here that the restroom was.
Packed and shoulder to shoulder, I went about my business, and then my father-in-law was standing shoulder to shoulder with me. We acknowledged this slightly awkward moment with a slight grunt and head nod and I finished and left.
I returned down the narrow passage and rejoined Chuwan and Melz, and we waited for Chuwan’s father.
…and we waited, and waited, and he didn’t return.
I returned to the restroom, he was not on the path to it, nor in it. I even satisfied myself that he was not in a stall. I stepped out into the 4-way junction and started looking down each path. The narrow ones were empty. The larger street was packed with people, but there was no sign of my father-in-law.
I reported back to Chuwan who was now (rightly) concerned.
“Don’t worry,” I said, “everyone in Taiwan has a cell phone. Just call him.”
“My dad has a phone, but he usually leaves it at home.”
“Of course he does. Try anyway, just in case he thought, ‘I’m going on a trip today, I might need my phone.'”
No luck. And, of course, even if he borrowed someone’s phone, Chuwan and I don’t have callable phones, and it’s doubtful he’d memorized Melz’ number, and he won’t be able to reach the driver, either.
Now we’re freaking out. There are thousands of people here and the whole place is rabbit warren on a steep mountain. Chuwan calls her brother to let him know (Line call) but there’s not much he can do.
Chuwan is thinking, “Let’s split up and look for him.”
Melz and I are, “Hell no we’re not splitting up! Then we’ll all be lost!”
Our plan was to meet at the bottom of the hill, so in the end, Melz and I continued to the bottom, hoping that he’d think to meet at our rendezvous place if we got seperated. Chuwan continued to search the shops and streets.
No father-in-law at the bottom of the hill.
There were two thing at the bottom of the hill: a police station, and an emergency PA system. After Chuwan finally gave up and came down the hill an hour had passed. She went to the police and reported her father missing.
The police alerted the other officers in town, and also broadcast an announcement. Chuwan’s father heard the announcement and about 10 minutes later we spied him coming down the stairs. He had thought we were meeting at the top of the hill where we’d been dropped off. He returned there and sat down in the 7-Eleven waiting for us.
Everyone was much relieved, but he needs to start carrying his phone with him.
No time to visit Jinguashi.
It was a long day and a long drive back to Taipei.
*It turns out we entered through the side lobby. The main lobby was much more dignified.