A TASTE OF TAIWAN
Pleasures abound on lovely isle
It begins with a deep kneading of the toes and arches, followed by vigorous manipulation of the ankles, calves and shins. When the masseuse hits the odd pressure point, it’s enough to make you cry out for mercy.
After 10 days of navigating the winding streets of Taipei, hiking along rice paddies in Taitung County on the island’s southeastern coast and traipsing through museums and a world-renowned whisky distillery, I’ve finally succumbed to that most Taiwanese of pastimes: a foot massage that often crosses the threshold from relieving to outright painful.
Yet, it’s a small price to pay for experiencing the pleasures that abound on this tiny island a mere 160 kilometres from mainland China. The 23 million who call Taiwan home are indeed happy slaves to pleasure, in its myriad forms.
One of the first ways this is revealed to a first-time visitor is in the Taiwanese love affair with food. Taipei, its capital city, is home to several Michelin-starred chefs, night markets hawking both familiar and exotic finger foods, urbane coffee shops on every corner and bakeries serving up a host of fine pastry, including its most popular treat, pineapple cake. It’s also the home of bubble tea, a tasty drink that is now served around the world.
While many a story about Taiwan cuisine zeros in on the more eyebrow-raising food offerings — think Taipei’s Huaxi Street night market’s snake meat soup, or deer penis wine, oyster omelette and stinky tofu — most of what is served up is of the mouth-watering variety. The soup dumplings prepared skilfully by teams of white-uniformed cooks at Din Tai
Fung, the popular chain with locations in Los Angeles and Seattle, are simply divine; while the exquisite presentation at Pine Garden, not far from the National Palace Museum on Taipei’s outskirts, is surpassed only by the sublime flavours of wolfberry soba noodle, deep fried tiger prawn and smoked duck breast.
While one of the most popular Taiwanese sayings translates to, “Have you eaten?” much of this culinary abundance can be traced to the country’s long history of foreign visitors and occupiers. The plethora of Japanese cuisine and minimalist style today is partly due to that country having colonized Taiwan in the first half of the 20th century; the 16th century Portuguese sailors, who dubbed it “Ilha Formosa,” or beautiful island, were followed by the Dutch, Spanish and later Chinese migrants, who began arriving in the 17th century.
Since 1949, Taiwan, officially the Republic of China, has been a selfruled island, with its own democratically elected government that recently legalized gay marriage, among other progressive human rights policies.
While the grey area surrounding Taiwan’s status as a country is too complex an issue to cover in the scope of this article, suffice to say that the Communist Party of mainland China views Taiwan as a renegade province. However, the protests and unrest seen recently in Hong Kong have yet to materialize here and it remains business as usual, as it has between Taiwan and mainland China for the past half-century. For now, the only thing visitors have to be wary of are the 15 million scooters and motorcycles on the island, which can pop up even on pedestrian-only streets.
The longtime fusion of cultures in Taiwan makes for some adventurous eating, which also necessitates the expenditure of excess calories. This can be easily accomplished by lacing up your sneakers and pounding the pavement in Taipei, a tidy and orderly metropolis that from a distance, seems an intimidating skyscape holding the majestic Taipei 101 — until 2010 the world’s tallest building — along with an endless array of looming office and apartment towers.
At ground level, though, it’s a welcoming place, with street names that provide their English translation, windy back streets that remind one of New York’s West Village and clusters of markets selling everything from orchids and textiles to books and that ubiquitous Taiwanese accessory, umbrellas in every colour, pattern and price point. Armed with only a handful of Mandarin phrases to get by, my solo outings were made less daunting thanks to the welcoming nature of the denizens of Taipei, who somehow manage to eschew the typical hurried pace of big, bustling urban centres.
Taiwan, in fact, seems to be an island where fun is most at home. You’d expect that from a place that reveres Hello Kitty and where on nearly every block there is an arcade, with adult players wearing unicorn backpacks vying for anime stuffy toys.
One other thing that gets a good workout in Taiwan is your wallet, if you’re a sucker for beautiful ceramics and porcelain, souvenirs for the foodies in your lives and inexpensive beauty products. At the bustling street market in Jiufen village on the island’s spectacular northeast coast — hire a car and driver for the day from Taipei, or make the one-hour journey via its efficient bullet train system — you’ll find everything from dried fruit treats to handmade leather bags.
Despite the smaller frames and heights of the Taiwanese, there is still plenty of stylish clothing available in regular North American sizes at places like the Breeze Center Mall near Taipei’s main train station, much of it created by local designers. At Taipei’s upscale Eslite Spectrum Mall, mini-electric fans by famed Japanese makers, handmade jewelry and a vast assortment of teas will tempt you to buy another piece of luggage, to get all that great loot home.
Once back home, I vowed to one day return to this enchanted land of beautiful mountains and beaches, amazing food and, most of all, lovely people. This time, though, I’d head there in the spring or fall, when the temperatures are milder and the rains don’t come every afternoon.
I’d also make sure I’d get another foot massage or three, that surefire remedy for aching dawgs that provides one of the few painful moments in a pleasure-loving land.