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Published: August 6th 2007
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I’ve never seen so many mopeds in any one place at any one time. It was a challenge just to walk along the footpath in competition against the endless rows of scooters and oncoming pedestrians. The repulsive odor of brewing chicken feet and other obscure game parts was overbearing as we strolled along the after-hours street market. Even 7-11 sported crock pots filled to the brim with eggs, stained by the disgusting brown broth in which they were immersed. Garbage trucks mimicked ice cream truck songs as they crept down the busy streets and vendors emerged from their store fronts to dispose of trash. We barely survived the suffocating stench that emanated from city sewers as we awaited our budget-conscious public transportation.
Feeling ambitious, Gene and I decided to cram most of our sightseeing into one day. Our journey, along with Cranky Frog, began on the subway headed for Danshuei Fishermen’s Wharf. As we disembarked from the train, we headed straight for the map posted ahead of us on a pillar. We started to laugh as we were, once again, lost in translation - the map was written in Chinese.
Grasping from the pictures that the wharf wasn’t within
walking distance, Gene and I set out for the rows of buses outside of the station. I felt as though we were playing children’s dominoes, trying to match the pictures on the map with the pictures at the bus stop. That seemed, however, a much easier task than trying to decipher Chinese transcript.
Luckily, the bus dropped us off right outside of the fish market, which, despite its measly size, reeked atrociously. Having passed through the entire market in all of five minutes, we headed upstairs to the only restaurant on the premises for a cold beer. Not wanting our stop at the wharf to be a complete waste, we amused ourselves with Frog for a while and took a few snapshots of the Bridge of Lovers.
“C’mon babe,” Gene urged. “I’m ready to get out of here.”
“Hold on. Just a few more photos,” I countered.
Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. As we turned to head toward the bus stop, we watched as our bus pulled away from the terminal. Not wanting to look up at Gene, I knew I would receive that all too familiar dunning look. Instead, I tried to make light of
the situation.
“No big deal, babe. What are we in a hurry for anyway?” I stated in my sweetest voice.
Not having the patience to wait until the next trolley, Gene insisted that we get on the next bus that passed through the terminal. Obeying impatient Gene’s commands, I could only hope that we were headed toward our next tourist destination, Huwei Fort.
As we approached the ticket counter, we were less than thrilled to once again encounter a language barrier. With all ticket information written in Chinese, we were unable to interpret what was included in each of the various ticket prices on the board. We only grew more frustrated as the Taiwanese girl sitting behind the ticket window pointed at various signs hanging above our heads and continued to mutter in Chinese despite our clueless stares. I somehow deduced that we could purchase an all-day pass to three separate tourist attractions, bus fare included, for 300 Taiwan dollars each. Sliding our money underneath the window of no return, we could only guess at what we were getting ourselves into.
Passing through the massive wooden doors leading to the fort, we were greeted by one
of the Taiwanese staff who nodded his head in hello. Nodding back, I continued on toward the first entryway, which led into a section of the thick stone-walled structure. Hearing footsteps following in my path, I realized that we were being tailed by the Taiwanese employee. What I didn’t realize, was that he would attempt to act as our tour guide for the next 45 minutes, through several halls full of numerous photos and Chinese interpretations.
#$%@$^#%^&^…Dutch…@$%@%&$^*%*&($% …ships… #$@$^#%^&$^&*
I understood no more than one out of every 20 words that came out of the guy’s mouth. Gene, who noticed the guide’s attention refocus on me for a moment, took the glint of a chance to escape out the door, leaving me alone to decode the barely English babble. Growing more and more irritated with each broken syllable that leaked from the guide’s mouth, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Gene.
Later, I would have to consult the internet for a better understanding of the history behind the fort so as not to put the guide’s relentless efforts to waste. In the meantime, all I could do was smile and nod as though I had
some inkling of comprehension.
We subsequently learned that in 1886, after the end of the Sino-France War, Liu Ming-Chuan (an appointed governor of Taiwan) commanded his army to build ten forts at five estuaries. Huwei had two forts, one of which is the “Bei-Men-Suo-Yao,” known as the Hewei Fort today.
The construction of Huwei Fort started in the 12th year of Guang-Shy reign (1886). Governor Liu hired a German engineer, Max E. Hecht, to oversee the construction project. Hecht’s architectural design is based on western forts. He also employed battery experts for testing. The construction was completed in the 15th year Guang-Shy reign, in 1889. The fort has never been used in any war and remains intact.
Huwei, located at high altitude and enveloped by surrounding woods, is not easily found. For this reason, it has been given the nickname, The Hidden Fort. The site of the fort is a rectangular shape with clear structural layers of a fortified wall, a moat, a sub-wall, batteries, a covering, a pass way and a court.
Glad to get the hell out of dodge, Gene and I graciously thanked our Taiwanese guide and headed out front to wait for
the next bus to arrive. After a good twenty minutes of twiddling our thumbs, Gene announced that he saw the bus climbing the hill. Assuming that the driver would follow the same routine of passing the ticket booth to turn around in the parking lot before picking up additional passengers, we continued on in our conversation.
Moments later, we watched as the bus drove right past us - the only two assholes in the road - and headed back down the hill. Too stunned to scream or chase it down, we just stood there as the bus grew small in the distance. Just then, Gene pointed out the bus stop sign located less than 10ft. from where we were standing.
Idiots! We ventured on to Fort San Domingo, one of the oldest buildings surviving on the island, and a relic of the Spanish and Dutch occupations of Taiwan in the early 17th Century. The fort later passed through the hands of the Ming loyalist Zheng Cheng-gong (Koxinga), the Ch’ing Dynasty authorities and the British. Only in 1980 did its ownership finally revert to the Republic of China, Taiwan.
Within the site is the main building of Fort
San Domingo itself, the building of the former British consular residence and other items of historical interest, including a number of antique cannons.
Fighting pure exhaustion, we decided to make a pit stop at Taiwan’s largest market, the Shilin Night Market. However, thoroughly repulsed by the odors radiating from the food stands and disappointed by the lack of shops, we quickly traversed the grounds and determined to find dinner back at our hotel.
We couldn’t wait to fill our bellies and slip into the crisp white bed sheets for an evening of rest. As we brushed our teeth and emptied our bladders, our usual bedtime routine, I asserted my determination to check out the bidet - a contraption quite foreign to me back in the states. Slightly overtired from our day’s endeavors, I giggled as I fussed with the buttons and dials connected to our swanky toilet.
“Uh…would you like me to leave?” Gene asked as he eyed me with an eyebrow raised.
“No, not at all…I’m just curious,” I replied.
Listening to the sounds of mechanical adjustments being made and the running of water, I waited patiently for the results. Gene nearly shit himself
as I leapt from the toilet, entirely startled by the stream of water that shot me like a fire hose.
No thanks…I’ll stick with Charmin.
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Tort McCarter
non-member comment
Good practice!
Hey, Gina, wait until you see the "Turkish toilets" in Europe--they have about 1/4 that size to aim at. You'll be glad you practiced on that one in the fish market!