Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Traveling Taiwan, Day 2- Hualien, Jiqi Beach- 花蓮, 磯崎海濱遊憩區

I wake up with that disorientated feeling you get from sleeping in a bed that's not yours, light streaming in where it's not supposed to.  The glare of the rising sun brings fresh pain to a head that seems two sizes too small.  How much did I drink last night?

Holding my head, I recount last night's festivities.  Upon returning from Taroko Gorge, we ran into Toby, a young Austrian traveling SE Asia.  Much to my surprise (I hate most people) I found him instantly likable; no empty boasting, no disdain.  Just a down-to-earth guy telling it how it was, and for him it was amazing.  Toby had been couch-surfing across SE Asia for a year, starting in India and moving through Malaysia, Thailand, Australia, and all the islands in between.  His stories were amazing, especially about getting lost in the jungles of Malaysia, where he'd been taught to hunt and survive by a local tribe.  Listening to him really made me reconsider what exactly I'm doing in Taiwan, and what I'm trying to get out of my time here.  If, despite all my study in Chinese, I can't find happiness here, maybe there are other countries to explore, and other languages to acquire.  Maybe I shouldn't be a slave to my educational background.

We hang out and drink a bit in the hostel before the front desk girls suggest we hang out with them at a local bar.  Unfamiliar with the nightlife in Hualien, we all agree.  Brian requires further persuasion.

Brian: "I'm going to pass."
Us: "C'mon dude."
Brian: "Nah, I don't feel like drinking tonight."
Me: "Just come.  Don't be a pussy."
Brian: "Ok."

That was...easy.  We hop in a cab and not five minutes later we're stepping into a spacious bar, complete with karaoke stage.  Unfortunately, no one's taking advantage of the stage, or for that matter, the bartenders.  There are a grand total of four people sitting at the bar, and three of them are from the hostel.  As in they work at the hostel.  We look at the prices, and wonder why we're not making use of the perfectly good bar across the street.

Drunken foreigners always welcome!

Ah, every foreigner's favorite bar in Taiwan.  They may not know your name, but they sell a cheap Taiwan Beer.  As we walk out with our purchases, one of the girls from the hostel comes running up to us with an interesting proposal.  The owner of Tidal says we just need to pay the 7-11 prices for beer at the bar, he'll cover the rest.  He wants to make some foreign friends, money's not an issue.  Interesting.  At this point we really can't refuse, so we head back in, myself feeling a little sheepish.  TK, the owner, enthusiastically calls for shots of Jager to celebrate our return.  Toby shakes his head as he throws it back.  "I hate this German shit."  I'm not too fond of it either, but it's as popular and distinguished as Redbull with the Taiwanese, so I swallow my words along with the sugary, anise-flavored digestif.  We ask TK about his surfing experience, since his hostel is also a surfing school of sorts.  Brian asks him how high the waves get in Taiwan:

TK: 10-20 feet.
Brian (trying very hard to keep a straight face): Where?
TK: Here.
Brian: During what season?
TK: Typhoon.

Uh, yeah that doesn't quite count there buddy.  We try to raise the mood with some dice games, but it's Sunday in rustic Hualien, and the atmosphere just feels tepid.  Some more shots of Jager, a couple of karaoke songs, and everyone's ready to head back.  Foolishly, I go to bed without any food in my stomach.  I pay for this transgression later.

The morning sees me driving Toby on my scooter to the rental place, where he'll pick up his own.  A careless taxi forces me to slam on my brakes, or rather, my front-wheel brake.  You ever biked down a hill as a kid and just used your front brakes?  The back-end of my scooter launches upward, and Toby's stout frame, along with his large backpack tilts forward rudely and crushes me against my handlebars.  I feel the air literally squeezed from my lungs, yet I'm so hungover and out of it that I kind of take it in stride.  With another day paid for, we head back to our hostel, grab our swimwear, and buy some snacks before cruising towards Jiqi Beach, supposedly the best beach in the area.  Or that is, we try to buy some snacks.

You see, in the West we're spoiled with some wonderful snack options: trail mix, beef jerky, energy bars, and other actual foods, all at reasonable prices.  Though 7-11 might make a wonderful pre-game stop, in the food department they're sorely lacking; you have chips for days, and a bevy of instant noodles to choose from, but beyond the quasi-food department you're paying inflated prices for meager packages of dried fruit and shitty Taiwanese-style jerky.  Brian was equally frustrated:

Brian: "I've never been more confused in my life.  I have no idea what to get.  There is literally nothing good to eat in here."

We leave our midday meal to the fate of the gods and walk out of the 7-11 carrying only water.
A great roar came up,  "The sea!  The sea!"

Amusement park near the Hualien Visitor Center


Toby meets us back at the hostel and we cruise off.  Half-way into our trip we crest a hill and see the ocean laid out before us, bright azure alive with the fire of the midday sun.  Despite my aching head and empty belly my spirits lighten, and I can't wait to get to Jiqi Beach and slip into the cool water.  Nothing eventful really happens until we arrive at said beach, where we find out there's an admission fee.  To use the beach.  Damn it, I thought I already went through this crap.  Paying for beaches offends our Western sensibilities, so we decide to hop a fence and take the optional free entrance.  The water is surprisingly cold, reminiscent of the lakes back home rather than a tropical beach.  The sun, glaringly so boldly off the water during the ride over, decides to take a midday siesta behind the clouds, no doubt the reason why the water feels colder than usual.  Still, it's a relaxing day, and just about the best cure for the previous night's drinking.

Great Core Workouts #6: body surfing while hungover


A distant view of Jiqi Beach.  Notice the distinct lack of sun, in stark contrast to the earlier pictures.
Not much else to say about the day.  We get back, buy our train tickets, turn in our scooters (our train tomorrow leaves earlier than the rental place opens) and make the exhausting walk back to our hostel.  On the way I manage to buy a new battery, and I'm feeling pretty jazzed.  Everything seems to be going smoothly.  By the time we get back to the hostel I'm ready for a shower, though try as I might the sand isn't ready to leave, especially the grains tucked away in my ears.  Brian tries talking to a Taiwanese girl who's just gotten in with a group of friends:

Brian: "Hey, what's up?"
Girl 1: "Yes."
Brian: "Um, no, I mean 'how are you?'"
Girl 1: "Oh, thank you."
Brian (to me): "I'm confused."

SERIOUSLY?!  You just graduated college and you can't understand 'how are you'?  Either you're the worst student ever, or you're just avoiding conversation.  I start to learn towards the latter conclusion when I try and engage another member of the party:

Me: "Hey, how's it going?"
Girl 2: "..."
Me: "What's your name?"
Girl 2: "..."
Me: "You're awesome."
Girl 2: *continues to pretend I don't exist*

You stuck up little tart.

Toby drops by and we ride three to one over to some teppanyaki, where we inquire about his travel plans.  We tell him he needn't linger in Taiwan for too long- though it's a laid-back country to live, to someone who's been to the coral beaches of the Maldives, or the beautiful rugged landscape of Australia, everything is quainter in Taiwan.  He agrees.

Pulling back up in front of the hostel we're met with booming electronica, which might make getting up at 5:30 am tomorrow difficult.  We wish Toby good luck (though it's not the last time we'll see him; we hung out for hookah just last night before his flight to the Philippines) and turn in.  More annoying than the booming bass below is the cackling laughter of one of the Taiwanese girls.  They're young, with that casual disregard for others that comes so naturally to young twenty-somethings.  Eventually, the music dies down, and the girls first drag their friend for that very special coming-of-age ritual, throwing up in the toilet.  Three others, getting into our neighboring bunks, mange without shame to continue carrying on at full-volume.  I have something to say about this:

Girls: "Blah blah blah unimportant bullshit."
Me (in Chinese): "How long are you going to keep this up, huh?  I'm trying to sleep, could you guys stop talking?"
Girls: *shamed into immediately shutting up*

You don't get to hold your heads above us and pretend we don't exist, then prattle on while we're trying to sleep.  I know some people act like that when they're really shy, but the world doesn't accommodate that sort of bullshit behavior.  Other basic knowledge you're supposed to learn in college, or preferably, beforehand.  I notice how evenly I delivered the above message, no shouting, no quivering edge to my voice.  There is no pride in controlling my temper.  Rather, a trace of regret that I'm mellowing with age.

Go ahead and roll your eyes.

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