Tag Archives: scooter rides

Exploring Taiwan: Day Trips

11 Oct

Look at that off-road beast on the right!

One of the best ways to spend your weekend in Taiwan: just hop on your scooter and head for the hills.

My friend and I decided to get out of Tainan on Sunday. We’d planned on making a day of it for a while, so some overcast skies and occasional drizzle were a drag, but didn’t dampen the spirits.

The idea was to aim for Yujing and Nanhua Reservoir, maybe Dongshan and some of the coffee fields there– but the best part about these rides is just stopping anywhere that catches your eye.

Put this on the “Taiwan Pros” list: The island beckons you to explore it.

Back home, I would have been parked on the couch, drinking beer, and watching football. While that is something I miss (like crazy), riding out into nowhere and seeing what I can stumble upon is much more fulfilling.

But, I’m not gonna blab on about day trips and where all roads lead in Taiwan. Not the point. You can pretty much stop reading right here if you want, but I hope this quick synapsis of our day inspires you to get out of town next weekend.

Couldn't find the name of this spot on Google Maps, but it is massive-- and worth a visit (coming from a very templed-out ex-pat).

THE START: Found this massive Tibetan Buddhist Temple. Magnificent grounds. Monks seemed like the real deal, doing the full-blown prostrate prayer technique. It was interesting to see the photos of the Dalai Lama and his, er, disciples placed prominently inside one of the main temples. Not going to see that in China!

No Photoshop needed.

NEXT STOP: Nanhua Reservoir in the lifting fog. Beautiful lake up in this jagged valley that starts stretching up towards Yu Shan. In my opinion, this spot was just as striking as Sun Moon Lake… but take that as more of a knock on Sun Moon that overboard praise for Nanhua. Regardless, it was gorgeous.

We were definitely not in here.

NEXT STOP: Random, abandoned military theme park. I’m talking fighter jets, tanks, gun turrets from battleships– all of it just abandoned in some surreal, overgrown plot of land below the reservoir dam. You find these spots a lot around the island. Somebody obviously thought he had the next big spot on the tourist map, but thought wrong. There were parking lots, paths everywhere, nice trash cans, little gazebos for snacking, flower gardens– even an odd cactus landscape– all just tossed aside when no one showed up. We probably weren’t allowed to climb up into some of the jets, so we’ll just say that that did not happen.

NEXT STOP: Road to nowhere. We followed this thing, winding down the mountain side, half of it completely washed out from flooding, or maybe earthquakes, in parts. We thought it was heading down to the res, but it dead ended at this monster, um, I’m not an engineer, so let’s call it a water run-off gulley. Hoping for a closer look, we decided to crawl down this barely visible trail that some fisherman must have cut in through the jungle brush not so long ago.

NOTE: I see why you don’t fight wars in a jungle. Just treacherous terrain. Wet. Slippery. Muddy. Creepy crawlies everywhere. It was fun, we made the waterfront, but it was a mission.

Apparently, this "temple" was celebrating a birthday. Party on, Wayne.

NEXT STOP: Random roadside parade. Maybe the highlight of the day here. We were hungry by now, late in the afternoon, covered in mud, and ready for a cold beer. We headed a little further on to Jiaxin, this fairly decent-sized town in the middle of nowhere. As we hit the main drag, we see this train of people carrying the standard temple altars and wearing the matching hats. The binlang dudes had their baggy white tees and the sweat towels over the shoulder. Ladies and kids were dressed in traditional attire, carrying spear-like prayer gadgets. Fireworks banging. Crackling. The good ol’ fireworks during the day display, always a crowd-pleaser. We stopped to let it pass by and try to sneak a pic. One of the good ol’ boys following the procession hopped out, looked at us, started yelling at his kid in the back of the truck, then walks over– two, icy-cold, frickin’ delicious Heinekens. Boom! For the win! Taiwan, I heart you! Coldest beers I may have ever had in Taiwan.

ALMOST LAST STOP: Earth baked chicken joint. We had some snacks in Jiaxin, but didn’t find what we were really looking for– that tasty countryside chicken. We hit the road, and on the way home, passed this one strip of three chicken joints that looked a little shabby, but had people there. We were welcomed by a sharp lady laoban who pulled us in to her spot. Her husband began chatting me up, giving me this whole shpeil about how he doesn’t really care about making money. Just likes to hang out and have beers with people. And, sure enough, he charged us 50NT for Taiwan Jingpai tall boys, cheaper than 7-11. Legit. The woman gave us our customary wool gloves and a pair of plastic ones to slip over them, and then a plate with a delicious earth-oven-baked chicken. We ripped that thing apart in no time. (Way too savage a scene to snap a pic)

LAST LAST STOP: Tainan Park. Made it home and needed a few more of those icy, tall boys to cap off the night.

Epic day.

Not-so welcome back

13 Jul

And to think... a couple days ago I was with my family on the deck at our lake house sipping Scotch and watching the sunset over the White Mountains.

I’m back in Taiwan and basically paralyzed from the waist down. Somehow, at the tender age of 28, I’ve managed to pick up a knack for tossing my back out while doing practically nothing. Worst of all, this stinging sensation is just one of many recent pains.

I got home two nights ago around 11pm and found that my neighbors, Good Samaritans they are, decided not to help me water my plants. It wasn’t really a shock, considering the plants had it coming to them. I’m an agricultural serial killer.

So, yeah, the plant thing didn’t really bother me. But then all the other things that I hadn’t really noticed or thought about before leaving started to soak in. Like shower gel, or bath soap, or whatever it’s called now. My lather-creater was empty. Found that out as I was trying to wash 18-hours on a plane worth of other people’s dead skin and fart molecules off myself. Empty.

In fact, my whole house had this eerie Goldilocks feel to it. Did I really leave it like this? I kept asking myself. Maybe so. Maybe I did leave that one peach on the table. Or maybe not.

Day two starts off with a bang. Turns out my scooter, my darling dearest don’t-know-what-I-was-thinking-buying-such-a-nice scooter, must have been knocked over (again) while I was gone. I doubt anyone would try to steal it, since I had enough locks on it to scare Houdini. But I am sure the blaring alarm finally pissed someone off after sitting there for almost four weeks.

I would have thought nothing of it, too, except for when I went to pop the seat and found it completely empty. No helmets, no rain gear– they even took my fluorescent pink and yellow winter gloves. I mean, damn. (Seats sometimes pop open when a scooter falls.)

So, now I’m stuck. No helmet. No helmet stores around. It’s 8:45am. No helmet stores open. After scrambling around like an idiot, I walk into my downstairs 7-11, where it’s like Cheers, to ask one of the dudes behind the counter if I can borrow his. He’s a nice guy and let’s me take it for the morning.

Then I get to school and the head teacher is all over me about the upcoming graduation play… for our kindergartners. For those who don’t know, it’s a big thing here in Taiwan. I’ve revamped and personalized a version of Grease for my class, condensed down to about 7 minutes and minus all sexual innuendo. I’m pretty pleased with it, and the kids know it by heart. But, because my school is too cheap to spend the extra couple NT to rent wireless mics, we have to record it and then have the kids mime the play. Yeah, kindergartners going all Duran Duran up on stage. It always ends in disarray, with one kid just way off and a whole lot of confusion following suit. Poor little guys.

On top of this, my boss/manager/friend/peer tells me that they love me so much they want me working afternoon hours next semester… or I will have to find another job. They want me to quit my 18hr/wk job that gives me an ARC to work 16hrs/wk for them without the visa. Ummm….?

I leave there, riding home for lunch. Foooooof! 7-11 Dude’s crappy old helmet manually unlatches itself and flies off my head going over a bridge. Bridges are death traps on scooters. They’re two-scooter-wide straightaways that young punks treat like F1 tracks. I have to pull over to the side, narrowly avoiding certain death, throw my scooter on its kick stand in the middle of the road, then sprint through traffic picking up the pieces of 7-11 Dude’s mangled helmet. Awesome.

I get home. I find out my afternoon school is in total disarray per usual and has not scheduled me for any hours this week. Awesome. I’m broke(ish). Awesome.

I go over to the school to talk about it. Boss isn’t around when she said she would be. Check. Really on a roll now.

Day three. Head to school, all is going well. I stay during and after lunch, dedicated teacher I am, working on the kids’ background for the play. It’s cool; it’s coming out well. I’m on the ground crawling all around, bent at all odd angles. My Taiwanese co-teachers are chatting idly behind me about what type of tea they want to order. Do I want a tea? Would I like some tasty refreshment while I am squirming around on the floor getting all Bob Ross on a flattened out fridge box? Well, damned if they care.

3 o’clock rolls around and I am at a good stopping point. I decide to call it a day, head home… in the hurricane. Yes, a hurricane arrived during lunch, well after I would have already been home. So, there I was, driving back over that damned bridge in my new helmet and new rain jacket, once again trying to cheat death on my two-wheeled chariot-to-the-afterlife.

I make it home. No keys. Keys are at work. But of course they are. So, I’m back on the scooter. More rain. Rain in my face. Rain down the back of my neck. So much damn rain that it is actually seeping through this new thick plastic raincoat– which I didn’t even really know was possible. It’s working it’s way past the elastic, up my sleeves to my elbow. I am reminded of the old Shel Silverstein poem, “O gee, it’s up to my knee. Oh my, it’s up to my thigh.” Except this was water and not a snake and all the water was slowly making it’s way down to the areas you never want puddles.

“Oh heck, it’s up to my neck.”

Everyone Likes a Chick with a Black Eye, Right?

24 Feb

Imagine this ad on the side of the bus, except the eye-to-purse ratio was bout 75% eye. ©Porter International

What do you tell a girl with two black eyes? At least they match your purse!

Riding my scoot home for lunch today, I slid up to a stoplight. Next to me, a local bus had a full-side ad featuring (see image) a woman’s face with a solid shiner. My immediate thought was, wow, some women’s rights group must have forked out a bundle for some publicity.

Then I saw the purse.

Umm, what did Van Gogh say? There is no blue without yellow? Well, I’m sure Porter International would tell you there’s no purple purse without a punch to the face. And look, it just screams buy me!

Curious, I asked my friend what 痛扁忌妒 means. I only knew the first character means to hurt, so I was fairly baffled. Turns out the best translation is something like, “Beaten up by jealousy.” 痛扁 loosely means to give someone a sound beating, and 忌妒 means to be jealous or just the noun form. So there you have it.

After a week in jail for stopping a guy who had already given his girlfriend the kind of eye shadow you don’t rub off, this ad really made me realize he probably just liked her purse.

(UPDATE: As I was about to close the Porter website, I decided to just hit “translate” atop my Google Chrome browser for the hell of it. The translated description of this particular ad: “The meaning of the original purple envy, even if they are severely beaten PORTER do not want to change the meaning of love.”)

You stay classy, Porter International.

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