Despite the many asides into the inner working of my mind and frequent boring intellectual pursuits, this blog is from time to time a travelogue. And I fear it's been far too long since I have done any travelogue-ing.But I recently spent two weeks back in America. And as great as it was to be on home soil, visit friends and family, and subsequently gain ten pounds from all the eating I did, I made a short stop on my way there I feel the need to mention.
I spent a quick day and a half in Taipei. From my short time there, I come to realize most people visit Taiwan for the beautiful natural attractions. But despite being stuck in the city, I actually loved the Republic of China's capital.
Taipei is the type of Asian city I love. The ones that are strewn throughout Southeast Asia, vibrant with color, palm leaves, and buildings just a touch run-down. There is an unpinned feeling in the very air of these places. A dirty, gritty quality just below the surface that makes the place seem more bustling with life than most.
Japan is bustling, no doubt, but it's a sterile bustling. High-tech, modern, shallow - nothing is allowed to age. Places are constantly torn down to make way for boxy, utilitarian buildings. Barring the traditional areas set aside for such things, the cities of Japan are clean, sleek, modern, and boring.
But Taipei is old, and far from perfect. Retro buildings with art-deco arches that were new 50 years ago, but since then have gone to seed. Now they are worn, but full of character. Walking along the streets in the twilight, I found myself drawn to the street vendors, the scent of their food strong and the smoke from their carts thick enough to be atmospheric. I couldn't help peeking down and along each dirty backstreet alley. My eyes raised towards older buildings in violent teal and salmon pinks, overgrown with both plants and laundry. The signs of constant life, forever moving along, but leaving a marked trail in its wake.
And that, to me, is what makes places like Taipei special. Nothing matches, but everything fits together. Each and every street, building, neon sign sits for years, gaining both cracks and personality. The small dents and bits of rust that proves a city is truly alive.I was by myself, but never felt alone. The city itself was my company.
