When people prepare for travel, they usually have an idea of what their destination holds in store for them. With London, the Big Ben, Harrods, the London Eye and an inordinate amount of spending spring to mind. With Paris, quiet little cafés, romantic strolls down the Champs-Elysées and rude drivers are de rigueur. But, when my parents announced in March that we were going to Kaohsiung in southern Taiwan for a weekend in April, I found that my usual flurry of travel ideas had deserted me, save for the immediate craving for authentic Taiwanese bubble tea. What was I to do or see in a relatively unheard-of industrial port city in Taiwan? I resorted to seeking help from the travel guru and my first journalistic hero, Asha Gill, via a quick Youtube search of 'Kaohsiung Six Degrees'.
It was a stab in the dark, but my search did reap some rewards, as there was an entire episode dedicated to the city. However, I was still underwhelmed by the video, realising that Gill had a whole host of locals to take her around and show her the real charm and secrets that Kaohsiung had to offer. For some reason, I just did not see myself mingling with the Aboriginal people as casually as Gill did with the family members of one of her local "friends". I also sensed that Kaohsiung was, though a modern city, not exactly teeming with the buzz and electric feel that Hong Kong possessed, which is what I (perhaps unrealistically) usually expect from blossoming cities in Asia. I gave up on my attempts at creating a semi-exciting itinerary for the weekend, hoping that simply going with the flow would counter my fears of an uneventful and wasted travel opportunity.
Several weeks later, we were on our way to Kaohsiung (in Business Class, might I add). I didn't even know what hotel we would be staying at, such was the extent of my unpreparedness for the trip. I would get my first taste of what Kaohsiung really was about during the taxi ride to our hotel by the man-made Lotus Lake. Our driver was an old man who spoke in rather slurred Mandarin and couldn't understand a word of English. He was a rather indelicate man, who, in the middle of a highway, decided to drive right up behind a car, dilapidated to extent of which I had never seen before, while brusquely crossing two lanes and honking his horn continuously. Whether our taxi driver was trying to get the box on wheels to move faster, or simply to indicate that it would be in every Kaohsiung driver's best interests for the motorist to purchase a new car, I couldn't quite tell. But my sister and I burst out laughing, and my mother pretty much feared for her life and finally decided to put her seatbelt on. I came to find later on that most people in Kaohsiung preferred to travel on motorbikes, and that the aesthetics of one's car bore little to no importance, much in contrast to Hong Kong, known for holding the record for highest number of Rolls-Royce cars per capita.
Arrived at our hotel, the Garden Villa, I found the lobby furniture to be on the gaudy side, with pink and white zebra print velour cushions laying on the long sofas, and was quite skeptical in my predictions for what our rooms would look like. However, I gladly noticed that they were generally incongruous with the garish lobby decor. The rooms were actually beautiful with a neutral palette and of a good size. The beds were more comfortable than many other hotel beds I'd ever slept in.
The next day, we decided that we'd book a tour for the day, so as to prevent our collective lack of Mandarin-speaking skills from reducing our weekend to futile attempts to communicate with the locals. I have to admit that this was possibly the best way to explore uncharted travel terrain, especially given that our tour guide and driver were lovely people. Our first stop was the Lotus Lake, where we started off with a visit of the Confucius Temple. It was one of those serene moments when you just take in the beauty of the surroundings and the intricacies of the architecture. A few locals were just happy to be spending their weekend relaxing in the warm, sunny weather and painted or had a picnic in the temple's gardens. We then headed over to the Dragon and Tiger Towers, where we were treated to a stunning view of the city from the seventh floor of the Dragon tower.
The Confucius Temple on the North point of the Lotus Lake
After lunch at a local restaurant, we made a brief stopover at the Takao Railway Museum on our way to the old British Consulate. The Museum housed two old locomotives that were used during the Japanese colonial period, which my father had the utmost pleasure taking photos of, like a little boy receiving an extraordinary new toy for Christmas. By the time we had arrived at the old British Consulate, we felt like we'd been overstuffed with sights to see and decided on a one-hour nap after a rapid walk around the Consulate. The building was sophisticated, as many old colonial landmarks tend to be, but unspectacular. It was one of those places that attracted far too many tourists. To me, a relatively accurate gauge of the popularity of a tourist spot is the presence of Falungong posters and volunteers, and they were out in force at the Consulate.
After our nap, we picked up a few cups of bubble tea and boarded a ferry to Cijin Island to watch the sunset from the Cihou Fort barracks at the top of the hill. The view from the barracks was beautiful and certainly made up for the fact that the Cijin Lighthouse was closed. On our way down, my mother stopped to pick up some stinky tofu and spent far longer than she should have. I have learned that I absolutely cannot stand the smell of that food, even though I come from Hong Kong and am used to outlandish smells emanating from various restaurants and dai pai dongs. We ended our day with a wander through the famous night market, where we snacked on some delicious dumplings and marveled at the variety of street food on offer (bar more stinky tofu).
Sunset from Cihou Fort barracks
For such a short trip, I came to discover that planning does not always bear its fruits, and that you've seen nothing until you really take the plunge and embrace the unexpected. Kaohsiung may not have looked glamorous and rich in historical culture from the Youtube videos I watched, but it held its cards close to its chest until we were in the thick of it, free to explore and uncover things that Asha Gill and the Travel and Living Channel had not divulged to the rest of us.
Paris may have its rude drivers, London may have its Harrods and tea, but Kaohsiung has secrets that are ready to charm and, occasionally, make you inclined to hold your breath until you've walked past the stinky tofu stall.
