Back to Fulong- 回到福隆

Weather shows no sign of failing, so yesterday I suggested a bike ride around Fulong.  Impossible to fuck up the directions since I'd been there with Paul.  Gary, Brian and I met up at Taipei Main, Gary loudly bitching about the inconvenience of meeting in the main waiting hall.  I told him that somebody was bound to have him do so sooner or later and it'd be good to know where it was.  And today, that person was me.

We get on the train and damn me if the aisle-way isn't packed with people.  Brian and Gary suggest we move down a car and I explain to them that our tickets are 'no seat' tickets.  A brief introduction is in order-

The Taiwan Rail Association has three main types of trains that run (at least in the North): the local train, the Chu-Kuang, and the Tzu-Chiang.

Man I hate using the Wade-Giles Romanization system.

Local train- stops at every station and has no assigned seating.  You'll also find yourself inexplicably sitting at stations for long stretches wondering what the hell is going on.  Cheap though.

Chu-Kuang- supposedly the second fastest, should be called the second slowest.  But at least there's assigned seating.  As with the Tzu-Chinag though, when I usually buy tickets there's no assigned seating left.  Or the person at the ticket counter refuses to sell them to me, I don't know.

Tzu-Chiang- fastest and most expensive train.  Fewer stops insures that you're riding with a minimum of bullshit. Only ridden it once because I'm too lazy to figure out the uncomplicated time-tables.

For our purposes we're concerned with the middle train, the Chu-Kuang.  As previously stated, we'd gotten 'no seat' tickets.  Generally, with these you're expected to stand in the small compartment between cars, or in the aisle-way.  It's really fucking annoying because you're constantly having to shift out of the way of people walking between cars (not just conductors, but also random people just moseying on through).  Now, no one cares if you decide to sit in an empty seat, until the person holding that ticket kicks your ass out.  I figured with so many people there was no point even trying, but Brian and Gary plop down into two empty seats and I stand in the aisle like a goob.  I'm waiting for the 'I told you moment' before the train even leaves the station.

It never comes.

THESE FUCKERS LUCK OUT AND GET TO SIT DOWN IN THE CROWDED AS HELL CAR.  Meanwhile, I'm standing with my back bent at an awkward angle so I can see out the window.  Part of me wants to see them dethroned, and part of me is pissed at my own limp-dick pussy-footing.  We pass by Houtong and I point out that it's a cool town known for its cat-viewing.  My sexual orientation is subsequently questioned.  Rigorously.

Finally a seat opens up and I wait for someone to snatch it up before sitting down.  Not two minutes passes by and I get kicked out by an old lady.  Godammit, really?  This does not help in the debate of my preference for dicks.

Finally, we roll into Fulong, fighting the crowds of people who came for the beach.  That'll come later for us.

An aside: I cannot make clearer my visceral hatred of the crowds in Taipei.  Bad enough when you're pushing past people, but when you see they're moving with a distinct lack of urgency it's enough to boil the piss in my bladder.  I know it's hot out assholes, it's hot out for me too!  AND YOU'VE LIVED HERE ALL YOUR LIFE.  FUCK.  I don't care about your arthritic knees or your walking canes, or impending death from heat stroke, you need to move it along for the young people impatient to grab life by the horns and take it from behind (me).

We stop by the same rental place Paul and I used.  Price is still 100 NT/day.  Bikes purchased, we get going, but not before one of the owners chases me down and informs me I have a flat tire.  Other owner, maybe his wife, tells us we can call them to pick up the bikes if we get back after the shop is closed.  All this pampering for 100 NT shocks me.  Taiwan rules.

We follow the path through the old train tunnel.  Before we get there shirts come off.  Brian doesn't think I can take mine off with my backpack on.  Challenge accepted.  Gripping my backpack in my teeth, I nearly eat shit trying to pull my shirt off.  People coming the other way give me looks of undisguised contempt.  Fuck them.  The looks don't stop after I've stopped weaving around on the road.  People seem to think it's weird we're riding around shirtless.  Dunno why, not like our dicks are hanging out or anything.  I mean, we're located right next to a beach.  Good thing I'm not riding around in my Speedo.

We enter the tunnel and it's a blessing of cool air.  We're shouting now, caught up in the excitement and people either shout back or laugh nervously.  The tunnel stretches on for what seems like an eternity, not that we're complaining.  Then we're out again, and we hang left, avoiding the detour Paul and I took.  The NE coast is beautiful, a fact I fully appreciated when it was pouring rain.  Now with the sun shining and Guishan Island clear in the distance I feel like crying.  I comment on the remarkable beauty surrounding us.  Gary asks me if I'm going to get emotional now.  I stop talking.

Guishan Island in the distance

As we're biking Gary and Brian discuss the merits of fishing and decide that there's good money to be had buying a fishing boat and cruising around the Taiwan coast.  I loudly ridicule their ignorance on the subject, resulting in my premature expulsion from said future fishing crew.  Totally didn't want to join anyway.

We ride for a bit, making good time.  At one point we some stairs down closer to the water and start walking around.  The rock formations really do look like waves frozen in time.  Walking down the stairs, dozens of tiny pill bug looking things scatter before us.  Crabs clip along vigorously across the slippery black rock.  Closer to the ocean there's a small green pool.  Approaching it, we see something shoot out of it into the ocean.  What the-

If you look closely, you can see the salamander things near the bottom right.

There's about a dozen or so tiny mudskipper/salamanders swimming around, some crawling out and standing on the lip of the  pool before diving into the water below, some just skipping that step and shooting out.  Ahead the sea stretches out, the horizon only marred by a couple of boats.  Behind us the lush mountainside climbs up.  And we stand in the middle of a field of inky black and glowing green.

Easily one of my favorite photos I've taken since coming here.

On we go, past rippling green fields on our right and cliffs on our left.  As we get closer to our starting point the biking path becomes more intimate, swinging closer to the small hamlets hugging the shore.

We arrive just in time before the shop closes, hand back our bikes and get ready to relax on the beach.  First we buy some of Fulong's "famous" lunchboxes.  Alright, look assholes.  I've had the "original" famous lunchboxes and I've had the imitation ones when I didn't want to stand in line.  They both taste the fucking same. That is, they both taste like any other lunchbox anywhere else.  Perhaps Fulong was the first place to rip off the idea from the Japanese...dunno.  Anyway, I know the mentality in Taiwan is if there's a line the food must be good...not only is that fucking retarded logic, it's a waste of time.

After grabbing some beer for the beach, we get going and notice that everyone's taking off.  Don't know why, sitting by the beach in the hours just after sunset is chill.  We soon realize our error as we arrive at the gate.  An imperious looking guard saunters over and points at an imaginary watch on his hand.  Apparently the beach closes at 6:30.  What the fuck.

Pissed, we sit by the gate and eat our delicious yet arguably standard lunchboxes and throw back some beers.  Plans start forming to circumvent this bullshit, each more inventive than the next (wish we had known then what we do now).  Some time passes and we realize we're exhausted from bike-riding, and no longer in the mood to do anything but crash at home.  We follow the crowds coming back from the beach and cram ourselves into a local train going west.  Remarkably, I'm able to snag a seat.  The trip is long, and made longer by my drooping eyelids, though I manage to stay awake the whole ride.  Brian points out it must be Selfie Saturday, because everywhere people are taking pictures of themselves.  Man, I remember when that shit used to be novel.  Now I feel old.

We make plans to go back to Fulong tomorrow.  It's beach or bust.