tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41317902861811969472024-02-19T18:02:56.980+08:00SesquipedaustralianA purposeless, waste-of-your-time rant devoted to the ramblings of a crackpot wordsmith with a poor grasp of what constitutes good narrative structure or flow.Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680935232550400202noreply@blogger.comBlogger138125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-54749198218495454212012-01-04T22:56:00.001+08:002012-01-05T00:03:33.623+08:00Change in the time of sunrise throughout the yearI heard someone announce the other day that now that we are past the
date of the winter solstice, the length of the days will increase by one
minute every day until we get to the summer solstice. Today is the 4th
of January, 2012. According to the <a href="http://www.weatheroffice.gc.ca/city/pages/on-100_metric_e.html">Environment Canada Weatheroffice website</a>, the sun rose at 8:48 a.m. So will the sun rise tomorrow
roughly one minute later than it did today? The facts are available for
checking as these kinds of astronomical observations are calculable and
detailed lists of all kinds of related data are readily available on
the internet from reputable sources. What do these sources say?<br />
<br />
The
sun rose today in Thunder Bay at 8:48 a.m. It will rise at the same
time for the next three days. From the 8th until the 10th it will rise
earlier, at 8:47 a.m. From the 11th to the 12th it will rise at 8:46
a.m., and so on. By January 31st the sun will be rising at 8:28 a.m.
That's 20 minutes earlier than it rose today and 27 days from today. So
at the moment the sun must be rising less than one minute earlier each
day. If you look at a list of sunrise times for January you can see
that the rate at which the sun is rising earlier is increasing. That
is, the sun is rising earlier faster. While at the start of January it
might take four days for the sun to rise a minute earlier, towards the
end of January it is rising a minute earlier every day.<br />
<br />
On
the 1st of February the sun will rise at 8:26 a.m. while on the 29th of
February it will rise at 7:39 a.m. So from the first day to the last
day of February, 28 days later, the sun rises 47 minutes earlier. That
is more than one minute earlier for every day of the month, on average.
In January it was less than one minute earlier for every day of the
month, on average. By looking at the list of sunrise times over the
course of the month you can also see that the trend is one of the sun
rising earlier faster. That is, at the start of the month the sun is
rising roughly a minute earlier each day but by the end of the month it
it rising by roughly two minutes earlier each day. When will the rate
at which the sun is rising earlier stop increasing and start decreasing?<br />
<br />
In
March the sun rises earlier by two minutes almost every day. But if
you find a list that also shows the length of the days, something
significant happens in March. At the start of March the length of the
days is increasing by 3 minutes and 30 seconds each day. By the middle
of the month day-length is increasing by 3 minutes and 33 seconds. The
increases in day-length have been getting larger since the winter
solstice. On December 22nd of 2011 the length of the days stopped
decreasing and started to increase as we passed the shortest day of the
year. Sunrise and sunset times follow this trend: at around the
shortest day of the year, the sunrise time stops getting later each day
and begins to get earlier; the time of sunset stops getting earlier and
starts to get later; the length of the day stops shrinking and starts
expanding as the sunrise and sunset times move away from each other
leaving a longer period of sunlight between them; the sun is in the sky
for longer each day. Back to March and the rate at which the time of
sunrise is getting earlier and earlier. In the middle of the month the
sunrise is getting earlier and earlier by about 3 minutes and 33 seconds
each day but then it starts to fall, rising 3 minutes and 32 seconds
earlier each day. By the end of March the sun is rising 3 minutes and
31 seconds earlier each day.<br />
<br />
By the end of April the
sun is rising 3 minutes and 7 seconds earlier each day. Sunrise is
still earlier each day. On the 30th of April the sun will rise at 5:39
a.m. (6:39 a.m. if you put your clock forward for daylight savings).
The latest sunrise occurred close to the winter solstice, on the 1st of
January, at 8:49 a.m. By the end of April it is more than three hours
earlier. The time of sunrise will continue to get earlier but the rate
at which this will happen will slow down until the middle of June when
the sun will begin to rise later each day and the length of the days
will start to decrease again. The summer solstice will occur on the
21st of June when we will experience the longest day of the year.<br />
<br />
Although
the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, occurred on December
22nd, the latest sunrise occurred on January 1st, only four days ago.
However, the earliest sunset occurred about a week before the solstice.
So while the sun was rising later and later up until a few days ago, it
has been setting later for the last two weeks. The sun does not start
rising earlier on the same day that it starts to set later. There is a
gap of about two weeks where, in the winter, the sun is rising and
setting later, and then in the summer, it will be rising and setting
earlier. I don't know the reason for this but our clock is an
artificial linear measurement superimposed on a natural diurnal (means
daily) cycle that varies and wobbles in all sorts of complicated ways.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbfirP8Ndk8S0LokH18v0o2A8TsbqyxEsIJMIdOLQCygJBudBkiMITgeRRxEGPdYvWxIfIMP3W2b0iSvhj5mHAKsIRN89gdnvO_PTOSM6roMNGlZXpXwo50MCzGBwKercYy1ELwPGZopwy/s1600/b+sunrise.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbfirP8Ndk8S0LokH18v0o2A8TsbqyxEsIJMIdOLQCygJBudBkiMITgeRRxEGPdYvWxIfIMP3W2b0iSvhj5mHAKsIRN89gdnvO_PTOSM6roMNGlZXpXwo50MCzGBwKercYy1ELwPGZopwy/s1600/b+sunrise.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Sunset in Bobcaygeon, Ontario, in December 2011</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12680935232550400202noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-29004227362044094282011-06-07T00:04:00.000+08:002011-06-07T00:04:25.277+08:00Visa versions verified: Common-law conundrum capers<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I just made my fourth call to Canadian Citizenship and Immigration to hone my understanding of the process and in seeking confirmation of what I understand about the process and the implications of my circumstances and choices. Completely expectedly, the whole process is rather unwieldy and inscrutable, requiring many readings and re-readings of guides and documents and forms. Ultimately I must build a pyramid at the base of which are all the individual actions and results that will support my application for permanent residency, like visiting a local police station to get a record of traffic convictions and infringements, going to Western Union Offices in Toronto in a failed attempt to wire money to an invalid recipient in Taiwan as payment for a police clearance, and buying a new red folder especially for housing the guides and forms and other components of the permanent residency application as it develops. These individual actions form the base of the pyramid and support components a little higher up, for example, the receipt by me of an official police criminal record certificate that evidences my clean bill of good-citizenry health for the period that I lived in Taiwan. A little further up are the larger stages and steps, such as submitting my complete application for the permanent residence and extending my tourist visa after the regular six month period has elapsed. At the very top of the pyramid, closest to the heavens, is the penultimate event on which the entire campaign with CIC is built: the grant of a permanent residency visa for me, allowing me to come and go across Canada's borders as easily as a mosquito might cross the borders. And then, like a mosquito, I can suck Canada's blood and potentially give it malaria.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Here is a summary of what I now understand about the process.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I can apply from outside or inside Canada for my permanent residency.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Both ways have two stages but the stages vary between inside and outside application.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><strong>Inside application</strong>: stage one - assess sponsor and applicant, 9 months; stage two - medical, security, background checks of applicant, 9 months; both stages @ Mississauga CIC office.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><strong>Outside application</strong>: stage one - assess sponsor, 45 working days, Mississauga CIC office; stage two - assess applicant, 8 months, done at relevant CIC office outside Canada (in my case, Sydney).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I want to be able to get part-time work while studying but I need a work permit or visa. Outside Canada, I file an application for an open work permit with my application for PR and it should come through when my PR does. I am not sure about this. I think I can automatically work if I have a permanent visa. So it would be about months before I was able to get part-time work.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">While my application for permanent residency is being assessed, I will be here on a temporary resident visa or tourist visa. This is valid for me for 6 months. It should expire before my PR is granted so I will apply for an extension and shouldn't have to leave the country or go anywhere. It would be granted because of my common-law relationship and pending PR application.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After nine months when my PR is granted, it will be available from Sydney. I would have to communicate with them about how to get it. They might be able to mail it or I might be able to get it from the relevant embassy here in Canada OR I might have to go to Australia to pick it up.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Great. Now I am more certain about what I am doing and how to do it.</span>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-20501240249109170572011-05-31T10:28:00.000+08:002011-05-31T10:28:17.214+08:00Crisis in Canada: Chaos and Confusion<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well, once again I am surrounded by a cloud of uncertainty and difficult choices. It's stressful and it requires some deal of education and investigation before decisions can be made and actions taken.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Andrea will be studying at Lakehead University this coming semester. She will be studying for her postgraduate teaching qualification. That's fine for her but it leaves me standing in a pool of cold dilemma. I don't have a work permit for Canada and it may take up to nine months before I get one, at the same time that the first stage of my application for permanent residency is approved. Nine months in Canada without working would be an awfully long time. Sure, I have a full-time course of study of my own to pursue but I was really looking forward to being able to work part-time so that I could earn some money to put towards our living expenses and also because my course of study is completely online and I'm going to need ways of being involved in the local community. I couldn't just study at home all the time; that would drive me crazy. What am I going to do for nine months if I go and live with Andrea in Thunder Bay while she is slogging through her education qualification? I could try to get some cash-in-hand work; I get the impression that I might be able to get a bit of that. And I could also do some volunteer work and maybe set up a language exchange too, to practice my Chinese.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I need to recapitulate the progress that I made today. I spent almost the whole day working towards making decisions about what to do about our recent change of plans and priorities. Although I am ready to take a break from this behemoth of logistical challenges that has risen up from the circumstances that surround us, I need to pull together what I have learned and accomplished from the day.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Andrea is more or less committed to doing the course at Lakehead. Wherever I am, I am going to be doing my online occupational health and safety course. I want to be with Andrea (or at least I don't want to be separated from her for a long time) so I will need to be in Thunder bay with her. I was really looking forward to getting a part-time job in Thunder Bay but it seems that I won't be able to legally work in Canada until the first stage of my application for permanent residency is approved and maybe until the second stage has also been approved. The time for processing differs markedly between an application made in Canada and one made outside Canada. There are two stages in the process of getting the spouse visa: Stage 1 involves assessment of the sponsor; Stage 2 involves assessment of the sponsored. Completion of the first stage of processing takes 37 [working] days outside Canada but 9-10 months in Canada; completion of the second stage takes 7 months outside Canada but 9 months in Canada. So in total, an application made outside Canada takes about 8-and-a-half months while making the application in Canada will take about 18 months, almost a year longer. But work is a problem. I can submit an application for a work permit with my application for permanent residence in Canada and I think it will come through when the first stage is complete.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I just realised two things while reading some of the guides. The first stage of the application outside Canada is an assessment only of the sponsor. The first stage of the application in Canada is an assessment of the sponsor and the sponsored which explains why it takes so much longer. I don't know what the implications of this are.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">The other thing I realised is that there is a difference between temporary residence permit and temporary residence visa.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I also made some phone calls about getting a refund on our plane tickets if we are not returning to Australia next month. Expedia told me that because we has started to use the tickets I had to contact the relevant airline directly. I called Air Canada and found out that our tickets are non-refundable although for a fee of $50 we can change the date up until three months from the date on which we first used the tickets. So I can call them back and change the date of our return flights up to the second of August.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">That's enough for today.</span>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-53533927051296655092011-04-23T11:05:00.000+08:002011-04-23T11:05:58.342+08:00A run to start the day in Busselton<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I got up at 6:30 this morning and ran the longer route that I have started running. I tend to go for a run on every third or fourth morning. I have been wondering how long my new route is and so I mapped it on Bikemap and now I'll paste it in here as a record.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></div><div style="background-color: white; border: 2px solid rgb(238, 85, 0); color: #535353; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 9px; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 3px ! important; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; width: 495px;"><iframe ="" border="0" frameborder="0" height="515" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://www.runmap.net/route/923289/widget?width=600&height=400&maptype=0&extended=true&unit=km&redirect=no" width="495"></iframe><br />
Running route <a href="http://www.runmap.net/route/923289" style="color: #ee5500; text-decoration: underline;">923289</a> - powered by <a href="http://www.runmap.net/" style="color: #ee5500; text-decoration: underline;">Runmap</a> </div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-90796941452789252162011-03-28T10:45:00.000+08:002011-03-28T10:45:56.619+08:00Career Prospects: consternation over courses<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I realised over the course of the weekend that I have more questions that need to be answered before I can go ahead and structure my expectations for the future around doing the Master of Environmental Health (MEH). Later this morning I plan to call the coordinator of the MEH course at Curtin in search of answers. But, as always, a big part of making decisions based on the best information that you have is knowing what questions to ask. Knowing which questions to ask comes from identifying gaps in your knowledge and identifying assumptions you might have made without foundation.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The first thing I might mention to the course coordinator is that the list of course coordinators for the School of Health might be incorrect or outdated. I wrote to the course coordinator for the MEH course over a week ago and waited patiently for a reply for a week before trying to call her. Even then I had to leave a message on her answering machine. I did receive a call later in the day from a different member of staff who informed me that he was the course coordinator, not the woman I had been trying to contact. Thus was a week of worry wasted.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;">I will ask him about career prospects. In assessing and comparing the Post-grad. dip. in Occupational Health and Safety (PDip OHS) and the MEH programs, I thought that the career prospects for the two groups were quite similar and so the MEH won my commitment because I thought the work might be more interesting. But having had the time to reflect on and process what I had read and from rereading some of the course information this morning, now I am not sure that the two courses will launch me towards a career at the same velocities. I get the impression that MEH graduates generally start off as Environmental Health Officers while some find employment as "<a href="http://www.handbook.curtin.edu.au/courses/15/151904.html">Scientific Officers in government and a wide range of other fields including the food industry and environmental management</a>". That sounds promising but I haven't seen any real indication anywhere of career prospects and the demand for graduates. In contrast, the PDip. OHS page includes a section headed <a href="http://courses.curtin.edu.au/course_overview/postgraduate/PGDip-OHS">Career Opportunities</a> wherein graduates' career prospects are described as <i>excellent </i>and their salaries being <i>above average</i>. I need to ask the course coordinator about what this means. For the program area <a href="http://publichealth.curtin.edu.au/programs/health_safety_environment.cfm">Health, Safety & Environment</a> more broadly, apparently "Employment opportunities are excellent, with the majority of graduates gaining positions before graduating and over 90% employed within six months". That sounds great and it does sound like I wouldn't have trouble getting a job after I graduate (or before) but I wonder about the prospects for career progression. In addition to that last reassuring line about graduates and salaries, <a href="http://publichealth.curtin.edu.au/student/careers_envirohealth.cfm">another page about environmental health careers</a> proclaims that, "the only course in Western Australia recognised by the Australian Institute of Environmental Health, a member of the International Federation of Environmental Health". Later in the same page you can read that, "Employment opportunities for graduates also exist with health agencies in overseas countries". That is very reassuring for me, given that I expect to live in Canada with my Canadian partner in the future, and suggests that the Curtin qualification will be well-recognised overseas. The same page also suggests that people in this area earn between forty and ninety thousand dollars a year. That is a lot less than the salary suggested for health & safety professionals on the <a href="http://publichealth.curtin.edu.au/student/careers_ohs.cfm">Health & Safety careers page</a> - fifty-five to three-hundred and forty-five thousand dollars per year! I think I should ask the course coordinator about this too.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Another query I need to direct to the course coordinator concerns my suitability for the courses. To do the MEH I would need to complete a few bridging units before spending 18 months completing the course. In contrast to that, to qualify for the PDip. OHS you need, "A bachelor degree in an appropriate field plus at least two years’ work experience" while qualification for the Master of OHS entails, "A Bachelor of Science plus at least two years' relevant post-qualification work experience. Your work experience will be assessed on the basis of your level of seniority and responsibility, job description, work-based referee reports, publications or other written reports and short courses or conference attendance". I don't think I qualify for the Master of OHS but perhaps I could get into the PDip. OHS. I need to clarify this with the course-coordinator. If I was able to enrol in the PDip OHS, would I be paying the more expensive rate for the units, something like $1,700 per unit? Would I need to complete some bridging units in order to enter into the PDip. OHS? More questions for the course coordinator.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Another query I would like to settle regards study methods for the bridging units. Last time I spoke to the course coordinator he suggested that they are available online, i.e., over the Internet. This would be wonderful as it would allow us to live and work overseas teaching English somewhere for six more months while I study part-time. At the moment the Curtin website lists these units as being available either internally or externally (by correspondence). I need to clarify this if I can.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The last question I have concerns how well I might travel with my career, if and when we relocate, overseas.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;"></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;"></div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-7957003837910942092011-03-17T12:33:00.000+08:002011-03-17T12:33:30.204+08:00Career prospects: Environmental Health and Safety<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Environment, Health and Safety. This is a nice area that sits next to - and sometimes on the laps of - Public Health and Occupational Health and Safety. The respective courses seem to share some of their units with each other.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Yesterday I talked to the course coordinator for the post-grad diploma in Environmental Health and she gave me some priceless information that has inspired me. This is the course on which I would set sail to gain a qualification in Environmental Health. I don't really have relevant experience or background in the area or in biology, microbiology, or chemistry, so the first thing I would need to do a a bridging course. This bridging course is not a self-contained course in itself but rather I would do three of the first-year units from the Bachelor of Science (Health Safety and Environment) undergraduate degree. This would take one semester and when I had successfully completed these units I would drop out of the BSc and enroll in the Master of Environmental health. I actually only want a post-graduate diploma but a comparison of course fees in the two courses leads coordinators to suggest taking the Master course and exiting when I have completed whichever intermediate award I want. So I could do all the units that would get me a post-grad dip and then leave the masters program with that qualification. The cost benefit would be significant: enrolling in the post-graduate diploma would mean paying $1700 per unit while enrolling in the masters program would cost me $900 per unit, for the same units! That's almost half of the cost.<br />
<br />
So what is environmental health and safety about? It involves contributing to creating and maintaining environments that promote good health, and managing environmental factors that may have a negative effect on people's health. These factors could be social, physical, chemical, biological or psychological. It could involve working with problems involving waste-water, noise-pollution, light-pollution, food safety and hygiene (a big one), and the many problems arising from artificial environments.<br />
<br />
The course at Curtin (in environmental health) streams students towards either being an Environmental Health Officer or into a research area. It occurs to me now that either way I think I would be happy and that I needn't be put off by thinking that this course would mean committing to being an environmental health officer (which in itself wouldn't be a bad thing). During my first year I would have plenty of time to make a decision about what I wanted to so with the second year and I could always study the other stream in the future. Reading graduate's stories, I think that graduating from either EHS, OHS, or from public health with a proactive bent and positive attitude will allow me to take my career places. I guess I just need to decide. All of them are good. Reading through the graduate stories, the stories that interest me the most are definitely in the field of OHS, EHS, and public health. I also get the impression from reading these stories that once you are working in the area, you can complete additional relevant units or courses that will make you more employable and improve your job prospects (and earning potential). That would be a career.<br />
<br />
I think I can sum up my relationship to university education and work like this: interest in what I was learning - high; academic competence and achievement - medium; utilizing experience of study to acquire good employment - poor. One of the things I have realized with time and experience is that you have to make your qualifications work for you and you need to get whatever experience at applying them that you can. It is one thing to learn and another to learn how to applying that learning.<br />
<br />
I guess I've done everything except decide on which course to pursue. It comforts me now that I see these pathways as watery rather than as a series of straight sticks. I mean that there is a lot of mixing and cross-over on the other side of graduation. I need to be a fish because A fish can swim wherever it wants as long as it has a continual stream of interconnected water-bodies and that is what lies on the other side of graduation from any of the courses I am interested in. I think I will choose environmental health and safety.</div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-79943443244186429752011-03-14T12:57:00.000+08:002011-03-14T12:57:14.617+08:00Career prospects: Public Health<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Right now, what do I know about public health and what do I want to know?</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I think that Public Health involves perhaps working especially for government to organise and manage health services. Actually I don't know much about it. Time to find out.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The post-grad dip in public health offered through Curtin Uni requires a specialisation in either epidemiology and biostatistics or in public health. The epidemiology and biostatistics major involves learning about epidemiological methods and how to use them appropriately, learning how to apply them in investigating the determinants of health and ill-health, evaluating health care programs to see if they are worth running and how effective they are (probably with a view to financing them), making sure that I can manage all stages of a research investigation. The core units are about infectious diseases and the epidemiology of these (so the study of infectious disease, causes and vectors and interaction with public health policy, cultural practices, behavioural change, etc.), health research methods (ways in which we can study health), foundations of public health (how did the field start and how has it evolved, what is it now), biostatistics (mathematical tools for determining effects and patterns of variables interacting and for describing variables related to health), research methodology and more stats, and so on. The optional units sound pretty interesting but I don't know how they fit into the course because the core units already provide nearly 200 points which is what is required to graduate. I think there is room for one optional unit in the 200 points, or you could do some extra work I suppose.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The other stream of study, the public health major, ...</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Where does this course get me? I read the short precis for environmental health and that sounded very interesting. That was about the interaction between people's health and environmental factors, biological stressors, pollutants, air pollution, water and waste management, noise, built environments, and global climate issues.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">One of the problems with this course is that it seems to be designed for people already working in a health-related area who want to upgrade their skills and knowledge to a new level whereas I don't work in a health-related area and don't already have a relevant background from which I am branching out.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The best option that I can see right now for capitalising on acquiring a qualification in this area is to apply for the Department of Health's graduate recruitment program. However, this would be very competitive and I'm afraid of being stumped if I failed to gain a place.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
I have started thinking that environmental health would be an awesome field in which to operate and it is closely related to both occupational health and safety and to public health. The problem is that is is much more applied science based and courses seem to require previous background in science subjects. If I could not get into this course directly maybe I could do bridging courses or enter one of the other two fields with a view to moving sideways in the future (if I still want to do that then).</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">That's enough for now. Something else has come up, namely a course of study that would get me into Environmental Health and Safety in 18 months (including some bridging units). Cool.</div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-39462707640164993102011-03-13T19:57:00.000+08:002011-03-13T19:57:44.664+08:00A & A cycle from Broadwater to Smith's Beach and back<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Andrea and I finally got around to going for a good long bicycle ride. It was a beautiful day for cycling: the sky was perfectly blue and cloudless yet the sun didn't fry us and the Aeolus didn't send his winds against us. By the end of the trip we had done about 65km and then we went for a swim, made a delicious dinner of rice noodles and fried vegetables, and then I did this while Andrea went and had a white wine with one of nice neighbours. Nice day.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The map embedded below includes several photos. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: white; border: 2px solid rgb(42, 136, 172); color: #535353; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 9px; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 3px ! important; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; width: 480px;"><iframe ="" border="0" frameborder="0" height="515" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://www.bikemap.net/route/852286/widget?width=480&height=400&maptype=0&extended=true&unit=km&redirect=no" width="480"></iframe><br />
Bike route <a href="http://www.bikemap.net/route/852286" style="color: #2a88ac; text-decoration: underline;">852286</a> - powered by <a href="http://www.bikemap.net/" style="color: #2a88ac; text-decoration: underline;">Bikemap</a> </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-69625780438669287742011-03-13T19:48:00.001+08:002011-03-17T12:36:02.259+08:00Career Prospects: Occupational & Environmental Health & Safety<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This is where I start writing and brainstorming individual pathways and careers. First cab off the rank or first close-to-the-use-by-date milk marked down for a quick sale is Environmental and Occupational Health and Safety.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I'm not even sure of the relationship between these two areas. What I want to do in this post is define the job and to investigate courses of study and qualifications, career prospects (especially overseas), and try to get right into what I might be doing day to day, hour to hour. I also want to try to get an idea of the overview of the field, the philosophy that drives the process. Let's begin then. You will know it is time to turn the page when you hear Tinkerbell ring her little bell like this: [BELL RINGING].</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Occupational Health and Safety (OHS) is about managing risk and minimizing damage to persons and property in the workplace, whatever kind of workplace it is. Curtin's postgrad dip. in OHS requires 12 months of study, four per semester. The curriculum comprises six core units and two optional units of study. Some of the optional units of study sound pretty interesting. Occupational diseases involves a bit of toxicology and epidemiology and an introduction to the history of occupational medicine. There is a practicum option where you do a literature review of a particular area, design a program (of data collection?) and collect data and do the analysis and report the results. There are also optional units in relevant law, risk assessment, health impact assessment, and a unit specific to mining OHS. The core units cover accident prevention, compensation, injury management, ergonomics, safety economics, hygiene and chemical safety, and safety technologies.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The prospects for health careers in OHS are very good although I don't know if that is across the field or whether all those prospects are tied up in the resources industry. The course at Curtin is all off-campus so I wonder whether that would allow us to live overseas while I did the course. Perhaps Andrea could do another year of teaching in Asia and I could do some tutoring part-time while studying. Perhaps we could move to Canada and Andrea could also get on with whatever study she wanted to do.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It is proving quite difficult to find a good web site for searching for OHS/OSH/HSE jobs across multiple countries.<br />
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That's as far as I get today. </div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-30024478934297731482011-03-11T09:54:00.001+08:002011-03-17T12:35:36.365+08:00Career Prospects: Vocational Veracity<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Right now I need to write. I need to think. I need to brainstorm. I need to think about jobs and the future and study. Besides thinking about what I want to do I need to think about how I want to think about it and how to go about investigating it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">These following factors are critical in deciding on a course of study or career: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Money: I want to be able to earn a decent wage doing whatever I am going to do. My days of working to make enough to cover my living expenses and sundry occasional expenses are over. I want to be able to afford to travel and buy a house and generally afford a secure future for my own family.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Prospect of living and working overseas: We really miss living and working overseas. There are plenty of occupations that would transfer to a foreign labour market. It would be awesome to be able to live somewhere like Taiwan but earn some serious money. It would be great to have the kind of employment prospects that would make me employable across the world; imagine living and working in Russia, or Singapore, or Hong Kong, or Japan, or Canada, or the Czech Republic, or in Chile. Cool.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Employment prospects: I am not in the mood to qualify in something only to have to battle to carve out a career for myself or have to exercise great patience waiting for vacancies and promotions to come up as the older members in the occupational pool reach retirement age and free up some space. I want to be involved in an area where there is a demand for the knowledge and skills I will graduate with, and where I won't have too much trouble getting a job, and then later, getting a better job or looking for promotion.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Personal interest: Whatever I do needs to offer me some kind of personal fulfillment. There are plenty of jobs that I could mange capably and do very well yet not enjoy at all. I don't want to commit to something that will be unsatisfying and not stimulating enough for me for the next 20 years. I want my job to be challenging and interesting and rewarding and dynamic. I want to have to think and create and write and help people with it somehow. I certainly don't want a job that makes people's lives worse or harms the environment. Ideally I would like to be paid to do something that I was inherently motivated to do. Inherent motivation. Something where I would start work on any day thinking that what I was doing was important; something purposeful, something that had a point to it, not just creating and moving paper around.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Length of time required to attain a qualification: This is a really important criterion. I could choose to study anything really but do I really have the luxury of spending the next four years just to complete an undergraduate course again? It might be worth it if it was something I was very passionate about but there's nothing like that for me. There are lots of things that I am interested in and that I think are important but nothing in particular that stands out for me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I need to weigh up all these factors and perhaps other factors that I haven't thought about here or have missed in this summary. It is a very difficult time for me and a difficult decision to make. Perhaps one of the most important parts of the consideration is trying to get my head around imagining me doing the job and imagining how I would feel doing it. For that I need to know about the jobs and what they involve, from the immediate perspective and the day-to-day work, to the larger perspective and how my job fits into a wider society - what it means.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have a lot of investigating and thinking to do.</span>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-12134517967168191572011-02-24T10:58:00.000+08:002011-02-24T10:58:40.980+08:00Decision Time: Michael Buble and the rest of my lifeI have a lot to think about right now. I feel pretty stressed and I'm fighting off the waves of cause and effect that threaten to overwhelm me. I'm trying to make big decisions about the future and come to terms with circumstances as they are and as we want them to be. All kinds of things need to be factored into the equation: there's the fact that I have an undergraduate Bachelor of Arts degree with honours in Psychology. It would be a shame not to capitalise on that somehow and it might save me years on starting from scratch with an undergraduate degree in an unrelated area. And there's the consideration of the transferability of any career choice I invest in; I need to be able to uproot my career from Australia and replant it it Canada (looking towards a future where we start a family). And then there's the personal question of doing something fulfilling that challenges me and that I can enjoy doing as a career. Will Occupational/Environmental Health & Safety be challenging enough for me and give me the scope to branch out into related but more interesting areas if when I want to change tack a little later on? If I chose Public Health or EOHS would I be aiming lower than I should be? Should I ignore my circumstances and choose what I want to do, rather than opt for a choice of compromise weighted on the pull of other factors. I have to make a decision that could shape the rest of my life and my career, not to mention the effect it will have on my future family and relationship and other circumstances of living.<br />
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Today I start a temporary job: helping to set up for the Michael Buble concert at the Sandalford Winery near Margaret River. The job involves long hours of work and will be exhausting but it is only temporary and allows me the flexibility to allocate time post-completion to more important things, the rest of my life, for example. I am nervous about this first day of work, of course. But when I glance at the bundle of considerations, complications, and concerns that I have mentally shelved under "The Future and the Rest of My Life", Michael Buble becomes just another internationally famous artist coming to my part of the world.Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-27392390020205773432011-02-09T19:19:00.010+08:002011-02-09T19:54:07.551+08:00Cycling discovery: Ambergate Nature Reserve and Emperor Hirohito<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Six ante meridiem. The new cellphone alarm melody that I chose upon the evening before last is unnervingly peppy. Today we had planned to go for a bigger bicycle ride; inland and away from the beach into a part of the Vasse region that I am unfamiliar with. We broke our fast on toast and jam (homemade and bought from a little old lady at the local Vasse community markets last Saturday who tried her best not complain about how the authorities had recently told her that she had to stop producing jams and caked for sale unless she met the standards of a commercial kitchen) and saddled up for the ride.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Our route kept us away from most of the early morning traffic and we discovered a new source of farm-direct eggs (four dollars for a dozen at an honesty-box roadside stall out along Kaloorup Road). The most significant discovery we made on our ride was the Ambergate Nature Reserve: 75 hectares of natural bush land, a small isolated remnant of what the whole plain used to be covered in. There is a short bush walk that winds its way through the reserve so we will go back in the future to have a better look and explore the area.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
I just finished reading H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine and found it to be a surprisingly good piece of science-fiction considering it was first published in 1895. I have moved on to a biography about Japan’s emperor Hirohito (b. 1901; d. 1989) who was also a marine biologist and published several papers, a lot of which seem to concern hydroids, whatever those are. I’ll read on and see how far from objective the author can lean.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ioIVS3WnFi-bERkkw0EoSH6OCFxiFeFG11c4gCpQNQP2veFto4aUYJbiSMnqArdEDQlShZpXI3KU1fKEt9BLqHyZLkr_ERBf64A3-qkMaLPZakcj2VfK723Ob4gsQEcu_TTQbiXCVTM/s1600/Feb+9+cycling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ioIVS3WnFi-bERkkw0EoSH6OCFxiFeFG11c4gCpQNQP2veFto4aUYJbiSMnqArdEDQlShZpXI3KU1fKEt9BLqHyZLkr_ERBf64A3-qkMaLPZakcj2VfK723Ob4gsQEcu_TTQbiXCVTM/s400/Feb+9+cycling.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b>Close to the ocean and almost back home again.</b><br />
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</div><div style="background-color: white; border: 2px solid rgb(42, 136, 172); color: #535353; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 9px; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 3px ! important; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 500px;"><iframe ="" border="0" frameborder="0" height="515" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://www.bikemap.net/route/816698/widget?width=500&height=400&maptype=2&extended=true&unit=km&redirect=no" width="500"></iframe><br />
Bike route <a href="http://www.bikemap.net/route/816698" style="color: #2a88ac; text-decoration: underline;">816698</a> - powered by <a href="http://www.bikemap.net/" style="color: #2a88ac; text-decoration: underline;">Bikemap</a> </div><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0Broadwater WA 6280, Australia-33.6600582 115.280464-33.6779182 115.25128149999999 -33.6421982 115.3096465tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-79851593220387280802011-02-08T14:37:00.000+08:002011-02-08T14:37:30.315+08:00Tuesday morning bike ride<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Just another day in Busselton. We woke up to my cellphone alarm at six-o’clock. After letting my brain idle for five minutes and blinking at the early-morning light penetrating our bedroom window at light speed, I peeled the comfortable layers of bedding away from me and made a few basic preparations for a morning bicycle ride.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
Fortified with two Satsuma (blood) plums and a mugful of water, I wheeled my lightweight road machine out of the doorway and onto the street. Quiet. Cool. Sharp sunlight. A very gentle breeze chilled me slightly and I lodged it firmly in place as my main motivation to cycle hard so that I could warm up. I headed out to the highway and crossed over it and then rode through the new housing estate to the pedestrian/cycle pathway that shadows the road to Margaret River. At the Vasse General Store I took an unfamiliar road striking out left to the west.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
I passed paddocks for grazing and vineyards for picking. The road ran very straight, flanked by tall trees on either side that created a shady tunnel. A conduit to somewhere. I cycled until I saw a small old shack, dilapidated and rustic. Perfectly rustic. I took a couple of photos and then began the cycle home. Another day in the world. Another day of possibilities and perils. And breakfast.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSMikexBzgNHl78V_t3yL4mUctRw0AO5VkVvB34NlhXxCAxU4nwAfcI4usWvrxtBC1OZYEEZ_Ujh8pUQsDfLPxSS8U9SB1VppqorDwfeCGjlGl6xwl9Qbbyvzrk0LasXDw-XUeMgNNEMs/s1600/Feb8+cycling.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSMikexBzgNHl78V_t3yL4mUctRw0AO5VkVvB34NlhXxCAxU4nwAfcI4usWvrxtBC1OZYEEZ_Ujh8pUQsDfLPxSS8U9SB1VppqorDwfeCGjlGl6xwl9Qbbyvzrk0LasXDw-XUeMgNNEMs/s400/Feb8+cycling.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0Broadwater WA 6280, Australia-33.6600582 115.280464-33.6779182 115.25128149999999 -33.6421982 115.3096465tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-42458640931744875722011-02-04T17:00:00.000+08:002011-02-04T17:00:15.798+08:00Back to Life, Back to Reality...Like an old song from the 1990s (or maybe it was the 1980s) normality has descended upon me and I find myself sitting in Busselton in Western Australia on a Friday afternoon settling in for the next four months.<br />
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My last post on Blogger was yet another report on a cycle excursion through the back blocks of Taiwan. It has been months and months since I wrote the last post on this fine virtual journal. I couldn't possibly go on without first explaining to nobody in particular why I may as well be writing about the life of a completely different individual.<br />
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I was living and working overseas for about five years, first in South Korea and then in Taiwan. There are plenty of expatriates who have adopted these countries as their homes for the foreseeable future for reasons I can guess at; perhaps they just don't want to return to their own country; perhaps they enjoy a better standard of living in their host country; perhaps they have an ongoing relationship or have married a resident of their host nation. These are all understandable reasons and I can empathize with the sentiments behind all of them. However, in the case of Andrea and I, continuing to live and work as English teachers overseas became an unsustainable future. These days the word <i>unsustainable </i>immediately brings to mind ecological and environmental associations. Forests might serve as a useful metaphor for describing what I mean when I use the word unsustainable in reference to our lives overseas (then again, they might not; I haven't really thought this through). For healthy forests you need a rich foundation (the soils) and an adequate ongoing supply of all the inputs that forests need (sunlight, water, air, etc). Our roots reach into community to anchor us and keep us upright. But community was something that we lacked and had a hard time establishing and maintaining in our host countries and we were also a long way away from our families. And so our foundation was weak. As for receiving an adequate ongoing supply of prerequisite inputs, we missed easy access to nature and natural environments; we yearned for the opportunity to explore our interests by joining local clubs and making new friends; we lacked for a deeper engagement with the society in which we participated, partly due to a poor grasp of the dominant language and also partly due to cultural differences. We weren't getting a full and adequate supply of holistic nutrients that we needed to sustain us long-term. Our forests looked okay at first glance but a closer examination would reveal that there were serious deficiencies and that the forest was not as healthy as it appeared.<br />
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One other serious reason for not wanting to remain any longer in Taiwan was that we would like to be able to start a family and be able to provide good support for children. Being an English teacher might pay the bills and allow DINKs to have some fun but it's not a career move that provides a good foundation for a family.<br />
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So we finished our contracts with our respective schools and came to Australia to start the rest of our lives.<br />
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There's a lot more to say about all this but it will have to wait because I have a dinner date with destiny.<br />
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CiaoAdrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0Busselton WA 6280, Australia-33.6499446 115.3446115-33.792842099999994 115.111152 -33.5070471 115.578071tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-70641068646133406852010-09-16T09:01:00.001+08:002010-09-16T09:01:21.118+08:00Taiwan's Southern Cross-Island Highway: Day 1 - Tainan to Laonong<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rare are the mornings in Taiwan when I do not eat breakfast at our table out on the balcony of our apartment, overlooking the few blocks between us and the harbor to the south and the coast to the west. If we are in Tainan then you can be pretty sure that I will break each night-long fast with a bowl of oatmeal at that balcony table. It is a nice table, wholly wooden, comprised of sturdy pine without any varnish or sealant. The table is flanked by two swiveling bar stools. The balcony is modest but clean and decorated with the natural greens and browns of the many potted plants which hang and sit about, doing nothing much besides photosynthesizing and softening what would otherwise be an austere and lifeless space. I sit, eat my oatmeal, admire the views of the harbor, the ocean in the distance and the sky above us, the sounds of the birds flitting about on errands to which I am not privy, and the cars and people crawling about on the ground ten floors below.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The horizon to the east usually vanishes in a haze of unknown composition - pollution, humidity, and dust are all prime suspects. But just occasionally the air will be clear in the morning and when I gaze out from our balcony to the eastern horizon I see the mountains - quite a distance away but imposing and compelling. I don't know why but I am drawn to them. When I see the mountains dominating the skyline, they make the sprawling city of Tainan seem diminutive by comparison and I want to throw everything else away and be off, moving towards those valleys, peaks, gorges, inclines, and declines. But inevitably I prepare for another day of work and head instead to my school where life is lived not so much as an adventure as a mundane ordeal of noise and attention. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This terrible situation could not be allowed to go on forever, my yearning to be amidst the mountains stymied by the exigencies of day-to-day life. And so during my one-week long vacation at the end of April (2010) I was finally able to pursue the distant but persistent quest that had grown from a seed of an ethereal vision to a real plan built on intent. I intended to take the Southern Cross-Island Highway over the central mountain ranges of Taiwan to the eastern coast.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXBRlGfgGlB4GSqYAM-OJTzet2qHqrPXNlHcFN8PC1oNg91CAHyCEEMXWC0SKHAZ3bdLeOkXzqkcfHtzcbRIw6bkgAfQVfMBJvrCDcCHSIfQbDq9mpwurAXSqJddib_8Ug4MJ3_0eyess/s1600/1+start+apartment+block.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="338" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468826762846357730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXBRlGfgGlB4GSqYAM-OJTzet2qHqrPXNlHcFN8PC1oNg91CAHyCEEMXWC0SKHAZ3bdLeOkXzqkcfHtzcbRIw6bkgAfQVfMBJvrCDcCHSIfQbDq9mpwurAXSqJddib_8Ug4MJ3_0eyess/s400/1+start+apartment+block.jpg" style="display: block; height: 338px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Andrea rode with me on the first day of the journey. Here we are about to begin cycling from outside our apartment block.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85K2OQgrUJeTNROXPrNwLDMDNA7SQs2ow_c93-I04mTSrb3SSqAcvcLGoHG55OsgmJocLsJlrmHUoAsxYvr0HKzfo94onFIuWSdiopTiOAGA9XHOCxvKuSPUPwPXtBqht60a33DFxe04/s1600/1a+gas+station.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="289" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468826749603642962" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85K2OQgrUJeTNROXPrNwLDMDNA7SQs2ow_c93-I04mTSrb3SSqAcvcLGoHG55OsgmJocLsJlrmHUoAsxYvr0HKzfo94onFIuWSdiopTiOAGA9XHOCxvKuSPUPwPXtBqht60a33DFxe04/s400/1a+gas+station.jpg" style="display: block; height: 289px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Bathroom and orientation break at a gas station north-east of Tainan.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_CFZ1Lgzc6dh-TQZh4HIOGplrHmau5idDA8aX5Ft1llMOSvAumQaigkAlVaX6oNavieq4ja0VlWUvC5Vh-TO-slwvLFTGzxWlzSFWTMBLNOTN0IkFQDdFcF6DidNHhcXKM-X6abaIimU/s1600/1b+tea+shop+stop.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="340" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468826737569810242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_CFZ1Lgzc6dh-TQZh4HIOGplrHmau5idDA8aX5Ft1llMOSvAumQaigkAlVaX6oNavieq4ja0VlWUvC5Vh-TO-slwvLFTGzxWlzSFWTMBLNOTN0IkFQDdFcF6DidNHhcXKM-X6abaIimU/s400/1b+tea+shop+stop.jpg" style="display: block; height: 340px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The much anticipated first ice-tea shop stop on the journey. This one is one instance of a franchise called </i><i>Tea and Magic Hand. That might sound a little strange on its own but the title sits comfortably among other tea-shop franchises in Taiwan with names like Jack Boy, Tropical Fish, Three Tea House, Ah-Z, Black and White Drink, Lingo, Red Sun and so on.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYGVoW7pfX-im8twCRL3MGqyVvBE5vP2H3BNIFjkiaj2jMMyljs6TXLDMfMIj0bFiN6KBfPZAW0Asnyoc3oGZQcq7bgLzUhDDcIEy6CXy-VkjNwg3W_I-N5T3JEtdxz8oFndhIqrZDbac/s1600/1c+bamboo+shop.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468826724274360674" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYGVoW7pfX-im8twCRL3MGqyVvBE5vP2H3BNIFjkiaj2jMMyljs6TXLDMfMIj0bFiN6KBfPZAW0Asnyoc3oGZQcq7bgLzUhDDcIEy6CXy-VkjNwg3W_I-N5T3JEtdxz8oFndhIqrZDbac/s400/1c+bamboo+shop.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>No matter what length, thickness, diameter, or variety of bamboo you are after, you'll find it at Uncle Chou's Bamboo Shop somewhere on Country Road no. 178. And that's all they sell - bamboo poles. I don't think I will ever see a store like this one back in Australia.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg454oiYcdOkTW2kG5hsmYsP4xbPU7WeMHj5vnOsgmyaIoZ_G-IiZhvzPjCJLFLJUk9AUQrXtMIYot21Igl0MvE66mFN-VQt9HdJNb4tu7ZZqCl2cHc27ogDOqWL1IAc1_KCIKxzgkdeyk/s1600/2+mango+ice.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468826715040184146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg454oiYcdOkTW2kG5hsmYsP4xbPU7WeMHj5vnOsgmyaIoZ_G-IiZhvzPjCJLFLJUk9AUQrXtMIYot21Igl0MvE66mFN-VQt9HdJNb4tu7ZZqCl2cHc27ogDOqWL1IAc1_KCIKxzgkdeyk/s400/2+mango+ice.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>On a lonely stretch of Expressway 84 between the townships of DaNei and YuJing, you can find an awesome shaved-ice shop. They only do two flavors - strawberry and mango. But it is some of the best shaved-ice you will get in Tainan County. The shop is connected to the greenhouse where they grow the strawberries themselves and for all I know they also grow the mangoes themselves somewhere nearby. As the next photo taken just down the road demonstrates, YuJing is Mango's Hometown. Apparently. The shaved ice and the ice-cream are both awesome anyway and after riding for a couple of hours in the sun they are even better.</i></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibnYWVWvHlDDqmgtgFKRwswC82wVycyZ08onG_1T5pUL5DDFAXFcgMswXegowBSLL8iBhKGsahnUP8sK5Wa_2PNbz4ME6riFTRA2-I2n9-24wFh1wFLs2AAOWI-UyEJ4bBrKhsRtpwpEk/s1600/2a+mangoes+hometown.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468826192440430770" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibnYWVWvHlDDqmgtgFKRwswC82wVycyZ08onG_1T5pUL5DDFAXFcgMswXegowBSLL8iBhKGsahnUP8sK5Wa_2PNbz4ME6riFTRA2-I2n9-24wFh1wFLs2AAOWI-UyEJ4bBrKhsRtpwpEk/s400/2a+mangoes+hometown.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" width="300" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>YuJing - Mango's Hometown. It's official. Mango has certainly done well for herself since she moved to the city.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_ySzDwdYuJ3PgMvLoLlzwiaG201n-IRggrDiw1X-Cbxv8QyF5QIf0zSPf4Pw2wlAKnusWiXm_wQELwJdfc9dAGkpCi6zUUUEnCVIZ-VuWzqaETIEXRGW9n1-pjgPicq71M7z8R6ii8Q/s1600/3+Andrea+goodbye.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="342" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468826179348884018" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_ySzDwdYuJ3PgMvLoLlzwiaG201n-IRggrDiw1X-Cbxv8QyF5QIf0zSPf4Pw2wlAKnusWiXm_wQELwJdfc9dAGkpCi6zUUUEnCVIZ-VuWzqaETIEXRGW9n1-pjgPicq71M7z8R6ii8Q/s400/3+Andrea+goodbye.jpg" style="display: block; height: 342px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At a small park just before the intersection of the Expressway (84) and Provincial Highway 20 we ate all of a small watermelon we had bought at a fruit shop earlier in the day. And then it was time for us to go our separate ways - Andrea back to Tainan to prepare for work the following day, and me onwards along route number twenty towards the central mountain range. No sooner had I embarked upon my solo tour than a light rain began to fall and I donned my cheap plastic raincoat and pedaled on.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Provincial Highway no.20 is an amazing road. From an unassuming beginning at the Nanmen Rd/Gongyuan Rd traffic circle in downtown Tainan it runs all the way across southern Taiwan: eastwards across the western plains of southern Taiwan, over the central mountain ranges, passing through the Maolin National Scenic Area, Yushan National Park, and the East Rift Valley National Scenic Area, and then joins Provincial Highway no.9 near the west coast for the last stretch to the city of Taidong. From now on I will be calling the no.20 the Southern Cross-Island Highway (SCIH).</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghbvdlDnKAXeiG1oL6uonRamzcVLJ-gOwyvagxPz6o7r1UzI_IQkC2BWLltgaXbSSH1ruMTJZFUjT_lwB8MMoXFxqpvFJUZK6HQV_eKcYtng7_aEWmO5hCxVmtQfe8rVGNM-aWmnemYBw/s1600/3a.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="397" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468826172167395122" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghbvdlDnKAXeiG1oL6uonRamzcVLJ-gOwyvagxPz6o7r1UzI_IQkC2BWLltgaXbSSH1ruMTJZFUjT_lwB8MMoXFxqpvFJUZK6HQV_eKcYtng7_aEWmO5hCxVmtQfe8rVGNM-aWmnemYBw/s400/3a.jpg" style="display: block; height: 397px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>A little further along the SCIH this old collapsed bridge prompted me to wonder about what lingering typhoon damage I might encounter crossing the mountains. It had been eight months since Typhoon Morakot hit the island and Tainan City seemed to have largely forgotten about it.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYjKDKaiplDnxCU3usVJWc96X6e7GLAPrMdQvLKkQK1y2c1pQItZXZtLSnLpkBoxhd03GYlmPVyJ-KOH8KqsQhTyylzOzyioXqrMRz1W2xJt8lHRQGqHBYvOuSfghxxk6mQntG5WirrFE/s1600/3b+Jiasian.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468826157105567970" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYjKDKaiplDnxCU3usVJWc96X6e7GLAPrMdQvLKkQK1y2c1pQItZXZtLSnLpkBoxhd03GYlmPVyJ-KOH8KqsQhTyylzOzyioXqrMRz1W2xJt8lHRQGqHBYvOuSfghxxk6mQntG5WirrFE/s400/3b+Jiasian.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 380px;" width="380" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The town of JiaXian and the JiaXian bridge. I don't know whether the old bridge was destroyed or damaged by Typhoon Morakot but I know that they were working on this construction project for a long time*. </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI6YOkPqkQgb0vmv7zEp0TU3zUvDIrPKMTkHGEHyXjoSccXVmheQfBx-uIYg6_pkBzOXblyS8Lsa9I03tnV5k-bkNWOGNVw01zPZLjVUksJCXbbIjlop4QfNGZccarJ42PyN_Dm504ZsQ/s1600/3c+Jiasian.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="101" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468826144839721506" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI6YOkPqkQgb0vmv7zEp0TU3zUvDIrPKMTkHGEHyXjoSccXVmheQfBx-uIYg6_pkBzOXblyS8Lsa9I03tnV5k-bkNWOGNVw01zPZLjVUksJCXbbIjlop4QfNGZccarJ42PyN_Dm504ZsQ/s400/3c+Jiasian.jpg" style="display: block; height: 101px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>A panoramic view of the under-construction JiaXian bridge over the CiShan River.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After a meal of fried rice and soup in JiaXian I continued along the SCIH to the town of LaoNong. In Laonong I found the local elementary school and set about finding someone to ask for permission to pitch my tent on the school green space. After poking around empty classrooms I found some teenagers who gave me the go-ahead I needed. As I began to empty bits of tent and bedding from various bags I was approached by two of the teenagers I had met earlier and another young woman. It turned out that they were all teachers at the school and the friend had been brought along to meet the foreigner because her English was held to be better than any of the others. During the course of the conversation I asked about the condition of the SCIH and was told that it was closed, prompting in me a sense of panic and uncertainty, a sinking feeling that this endeavour was going to be over before it had begun. After our exchange of pleasantries was over I finished pitching the tent and headed across the road to the local 7-eleven. Sitting at the bench next to the window, eating my cold noodles with vegetables, I attracted a small horde of local kids who put my Chinese language skills to the test, not to mention my capacity for dining under intense scrutiny while being interrogated. Eventually a 7-eleven employee shooed them away and I was left to contemplate my plans for the following day.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lying alone in my tent that was barely long enough for me and which did not block the light from the powerful flood-lights installed around the green space, I uncomfortably found my way into sleep while the local stray dogs barked and scampered around the school. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>___________________</b></span> </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I have mapped my entire route on the Bikemap website. I've included some photos and comments along the route. Go to <a href="http://www.bikemap.net/route/471071">www.bikemap.net/route/471071</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">*Writing now in July I can say that the new JiaXian bridge has been completed and finished in a stylish shade of pastel purple (the color of taro ice cream - JiaXian is Taro's Hometown after all) with a dynamic lighting scheme that can be appreciated after nightfall.</span></div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-28456111879174457062010-09-16T08:58:00.000+08:002010-09-16T08:58:34.323+08:00Taiwan's Southern Cross-Island Highway: Day 2 - Laonong to Tianchih<span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">On Monday morning I woke up in my tent at one end of the green-space inside the running track at LaoNong Elementary School. I could hear talking, some laughter, and a lot of clapping. While I started to pack away my things inside the tent, somebody turned on some lively modern dance music that mixed with the other sounds that I could hear. Upon emerging from my tent I saw that at the other end of the running track a morning aerobics (dare I call it 'dancercize') class was in full swing. I gave them a friendly wave to indicate that my sudden appearance didn't imply that they had woken me up. It was good to see the old folks (one man looked particularly old) beginning their day in such an energetic way.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The young teachers I had chatted with on the previous evening had told me that I should move off the green-space before the students began arriving. As I loaded up my bicycle and trundled over the highway to the local 7-Eleven I saw that there were already assorted girls and boys milling about with more students gradually trickling in from all directions. I availed myself of the store's bicycle pump to inflate my tires; it really is hard not to be drawn to 7-Elevens for the wealth of conveniences that they concentrate in one small building. I had been planning to eat some kind of breakfast food in the store as well but was thoroughly put off by the amount of attention I was already receiving from various young onlookers. Had I purchased any foodstuffs and begun to eat in front of them, I felt sure that they would have broken out into a paroxysmal frenzy fueled by intense curiosity and so I left the packet of instant oatmeal on the shelf where it slouched and headed off towards Baolai.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As I rode I tried one of the bananas I had picked up the previous evening on a stroll around LaoNong. I bought them from a stereotypical little old Taiwanese lady in a stereotypical little old Taiwanese general store. When it came time to pay for my fruit she amazed me by picking up her abacus - HER <u>ABACUS</u> - and doing abacus things with it to produce a price. I couldn't read the abacus, this skill having been phased out of the Western Australian educational curriculum fifty-or-so years ago, a little while before I existed, and so I had instead to rely on her interpretation. The bananas were too far from being ripe anyway and joined the other agricultural detritus on the side of the road between LaoNong and Baolai.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlDYfQIMw9nzMjQSPWq-xpsvXUN6BRat7H1CDOSLC3RbXyYr7TqVhLhZsRxYGfTD6y0p5DztKPJKYOVhyMkgrTawQKyrjI4vDyoZ2dsU2c15juUvTEvMGdc39BaigCwqnyVJjs4kxqQi4/s1600/4aa+Baolai+landscape.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468829362556437282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlDYfQIMw9nzMjQSPWq-xpsvXUN6BRat7H1CDOSLC3RbXyYr7TqVhLhZsRxYGfTD6y0p5DztKPJKYOVhyMkgrTawQKyrjI4vDyoZ2dsU2c15juUvTEvMGdc39BaigCwqnyVJjs4kxqQi4/s400/4aa+Baolai+landscape.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Arriving in Baolai, looking across the river to the town. Baolai was (and still is) yet another casualty of Typhoon Morakot.</span></i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In Baolai I found a Mei and Mei breakfast shop and helped myself to a big breakfast that would fuel my aspirations for the rest of the day: a fish burger, a tuna omelet, a soy milk, and a coffee. Not being conspicuous enough to inspire a crowd of prepubescent onlookers, it was very soon time to move on.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirAO7qYI7elAgPLMDae6mfRpbDW8O_R3P7VVc44YhhroaAc6-fYcaOh5aCdfjB9kIdzxtgxEQzsxa3VLzPvDNHcOhMdVdsN9FbVr0Wq8oOm9onkG2ZjE4fFaluo1t86PHK_aKoKj9Zbzk/s1600/4a+Baolai+as+far+as.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468829610948679490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirAO7qYI7elAgPLMDae6mfRpbDW8O_R3P7VVc44YhhroaAc6-fYcaOh5aCdfjB9kIdzxtgxEQzsxa3VLzPvDNHcOhMdVdsN9FbVr0Wq8oOm9onkG2ZjE4fFaluo1t86PHK_aKoKj9Zbzk/s400/4a+Baolai+as+far+as.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 344px;" width="344" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">This is as far as I had gone before. </span></i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Less than a minute after leaving the breakfast shop in the center of "downtown" Baolai I had reached the edge of the community and where I wanted to stop to appreciate the moment. This was as far as I had been along highway 20. Last time I was here I came with friends and we went white-water rafting down the river nearby. In the sheds at the end of the highway we had been jostled by the throng of other rafters-to-be as we nabbed equipment in preparing ourselves for the excursion. The whole place had been buzzing with an orderly chaos. Now, as I looked at the sheds at the end of the highway, I could see signs of dereliction. There hadn't been any white-water rafting here for a while, probably since Morakot. Nonetheless, I was about to cycle onto an unfamiliar roadway and I felt that my adventure was only now about to begin.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsG62ubVnzCISZxy7eYRwMybiH41V55vf_zRx5EmGrASe4RVf2Tc8574L4BAcOyJyQzYohOD-t_GMjk0kNA0NfhSUfZLEV-ao81aTP-kXV7_i52zEycWqkiTN4JcueCm0HhFiS2lT0pE4/s1600/4b+landscape.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468829350032874578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsG62ubVnzCISZxy7eYRwMybiH41V55vf_zRx5EmGrASe4RVf2Tc8574L4BAcOyJyQzYohOD-t_GMjk0kNA0NfhSUfZLEV-ao81aTP-kXV7_i52zEycWqkiTN4JcueCm0HhFiS2lT0pE4/s400/4b+landscape.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My next big destination would be the Meishan Visitor Center situated just inside the boundary of Yushan National Park. I discovered that the way there had been broken by Morakot and since repaired. There were construction vehicles and construction projects and reconstruction projects underway at intervals along the highway. I rode on a lot of new road although I didn't know if it was supposed to be a permanent or temporary route.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizCfuoX2_tVuW87GCZkoljKFTKr-Tv5aim1XUlcTU0IUeWhJxvlK3f0_xL3-jXv8LAc8J8GcB2W1035daS-tkMlsLFab9SuNYFslgZ5WU7p5nAbLLSi502wjU3c6H1b4hREB2ucOVSds8/s1600/4c+landscape.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468829336504290146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizCfuoX2_tVuW87GCZkoljKFTKr-Tv5aim1XUlcTU0IUeWhJxvlK3f0_xL3-jXv8LAc8J8GcB2W1035daS-tkMlsLFab9SuNYFslgZ5WU7p5nAbLLSi502wjU3c6H1b4hREB2ucOVSds8/s400/4c+landscape.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" width="300" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirVIk7E73leXXhuli7q_kdIQ3hT6UvJsruG23ZortN9QaTwIcp2G6wwLbARKdCVk4n1ZvyPWMRds3gVELgUjGWZzNfXLX3V64r-TjFMhMhZ3K39sxne-LUysHiyJX4jT9Y86CxlHFbntQ/s1600/4d+landscape.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="390" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468829322324465346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirVIk7E73leXXhuli7q_kdIQ3hT6UvJsruG23ZortN9QaTwIcp2G6wwLbARKdCVk4n1ZvyPWMRds3gVELgUjGWZzNfXLX3V64r-TjFMhMhZ3K39sxne-LUysHiyJX4jT9Y86CxlHFbntQ/s400/4d+landscape.jpg" style="display: block; height: 390px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnlp-vrTzhz3mqkYocb333-2gZUDK_r5-Bgyokxr7lfpjBNi7Wj1wtlVpeIS4bHuGQuW64OaLeKoJFugvPL0gOOmengcwlk05qmqxs5jG8NSD5FSWrM2GrO9ySyDiPo2k8_lTHUYhDs80/s1600/5+meishan+visitor+centre.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468829314335615138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnlp-vrTzhz3mqkYocb333-2gZUDK_r5-Bgyokxr7lfpjBNi7Wj1wtlVpeIS4bHuGQuW64OaLeKoJFugvPL0gOOmengcwlk05qmqxs5jG8NSD5FSWrM2GrO9ySyDiPo2k8_lTHUYhDs80/s400/5+meishan+visitor+centre.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" width="300" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">At the Meishan Visitor Center with Formosan Black Bears (taxidermified) </span></i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I arrived at the Meishan Visitor Centre after a long ride through a landscape that felt to me like a testament to the ultimate power of natural forces over all the schemes and devices of humankind. My main priority in the visitor center was to establish exactly what kind of condition the SCIH was in. Was there still a continuous route across to the other side of the island? Was it open? Were there still sources of food and water available along the way? I had heard conflicting reports from people on my way here and I thought that the staff at the visitor center held out the best hope for an accurate assessment of the chances of success of my aim of cycling the SCIH. I was dismayed when the girl working at the counter told me that the road was closed. Closed? But what did this mean? When I pressed her for details she asked me to wait while she called for backup from somewhere upstairs. Meanwhile, I wandered around the visitor center admiring the displays, reflecting on how few people would now be coming to see them.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The girl at the counter seemed to forget about me and after some time I approached her again to prompt her to call for somebody else. This time her call for action brought a short middle-aged man trotting down the stairs, still wrangling with the buttons on his shirt. This man told also told me that the road was closed. When I seemed doubtful he took me to a free-standing noticeboard that displayed a rather official-looking notice. He interpreted the notice for me - the road is closed - and pointed out the official seal of the Government of Kaohsiung County printed (or stamped?) across one corner of the notice in a wonderfully vibrant shade of red. I was, by now, starting to think that the road was really closed. I engaged the man about the specifics of the SCIH's condition and at some point during our conversation his attitude suddenly changed from "You cannot" to "Maybe you can try" after which we discussed the finer points of my proposed undertaking.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Upon leaving the center I asked Mr Visitor Center if I might pick a couple of the peaches from the trees growing outside the center. Throwing profuse gratitudes at Mr Visitor Center and with my free fruit securely stowed in my backpack I headed up the hill into the somewhat unknown. Around the first corner I came upon a roadblock consisting of two freestanding traffic barricades, the kind with diagonal black and yellow stripes. After hesitating for fear of crossing some kind of boundary separating the legal from the illegal, I rode around them and onwards up the hill. My first intended stop was a restaurant that Mr visitor center had told me was about twenty minutes along the road. After about thirty minutes I couldn't see any signs of food or beverage provision and was beginning to suspect that Mr Visitor Center had confused 'minutes' with 'meters'. A small blue truck, only the second vehicle that I had seen on the road (the first being a policeman who looked at me as he passed on his motorcycle, inspiring in me an anxiety attack because I thought he was going to get angry at me and tell me to turn around) appeared, coming from around the next bend, and when I stopped the driver he confirmed that the restaurant was indeed about twenty minutes behind me. I cursed a bit and headed back down the hill to the restaurant twenty meters from the visitor center where I had started.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the restaurant I ordered a big noodle soup and called Andrea to update her on my progress. I thought that I had better call now as the availability of cellphone coverage in the mountains seemed so uncertain. I bought another bottle of water before getting back on my bike and on the road.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkV81cZhgWoKYHGj2lkDi4iCrJpgOpQfqJEe1VuV6TwRXykqJt9SJFwMBrxspD0c3Gx67Dn5I-Z1-fFB-QPP0Vojm9n7A9kULzvVX_v-JZWMMEDOfz-SW0lo8v9CD2Rf-j9cGJlkViPY/s1600/5a+me+reflection.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="366" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468827650329427826" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkV81cZhgWoKYHGj2lkDi4iCrJpgOpQfqJEe1VuV6TwRXykqJt9SJFwMBrxspD0c3Gx67Dn5I-Z1-fFB-QPP0Vojm9n7A9kULzvVX_v-JZWMMEDOfz-SW0lo8v9CD2Rf-j9cGJlkViPY/s400/5a+me+reflection.jpg" style="display: block; height: 366px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvM55bh1uaffi6MTxqvNYO0Y5V0GPcs1Kq076U4wJwPbnCWGn8mO0M3cWRAyv1E8zm7519KIXbnaquLtJ1D7_XXVMyhw1MFwbo0SZmgCZXFLZZGvlxHDshOfoDjX9YQwEcCEmOYwg90xU/s1600/5b+typical+road.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468827639699771538" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvM55bh1uaffi6MTxqvNYO0Y5V0GPcs1Kq076U4wJwPbnCWGn8mO0M3cWRAyv1E8zm7519KIXbnaquLtJ1D7_XXVMyhw1MFwbo0SZmgCZXFLZZGvlxHDshOfoDjX9YQwEcCEmOYwg90xU/s400/5b+typical+road.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" width="300" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The road was scarred and torn open in places. Some stretches of the road way had been repaired with a mixture of dirt and rocks compacted to create a hard but rough surface. My ride up into the mountains became a ride and walk up into the mountains as I hopped off my bicycle for the rough stretches and rode on the original smooth stretches. Off. Walk. On. Ride. Off. Walk. On. Ride. Off. Walk. And so it went on. There were not so many construction vehicles and no tourists at all and I couldn't help thinking that I was lucky to have the road all to myself, quiet and peaceful. At one point I had to stop and wait while a grader operator moved rocks and dirt around on the way ahead until he saw me and allowed me to pass safely. The damage here looked recent and as I trudged past the idling machine in my thin, yellow, plastic raincoat with a light rain falling everywhere around me, I wondered just how stable this landscape now was.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Somewhere between three and four o'clock in the afternoon things suddenly got foggy. The clouds seemed to have descended on the mountains and visibility became quite bad in places. The moment had taken on a surreal quality and I swam through the misty silence along the highway. And then the silence withdrew as the air was filled with the sounds of a large truck and some other large vehicle and I pulled into the public carpark and restrooms at JhongJhihGuan. It quickly became apparent that the construction workers were leaving, that the carpark no longer saw a lot of tourists, and that the restrooms were no longer connected to a water supply or power supply. A signboard told me I was now at an elevation of 1,930 meters. After a brief stop during which I considered the current state of things along highway 20 and let myself worry a bit about what I would find (or not find) up ahead, I pressed on, hoping to find a suitable place to put up my tent for the night.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I finally reached the police station at Tianchi and was relieved to find it open and occupied. I was really glad to know that there were still people in the area, just in case the road collapsed under me while I was cycling and I was forced to drag myself, semi-conscious, up a ravine and seek assistance. I chatted with the three policemen at the station and got some more water. One of them was munching on a cob of corn and, now sure that I wasn't going to find any restaurants or shops open, I tried not to think about dinner. The friendliest one of the bunch told me that the temperature would drop suddenly at nightfall. He checked the thermometer inside the station and returned to tell me that it was currently 14 degrees centigrade. I wondered what these men spent most of their time doing now that the highway was closed and they only had construction workers and monkeys to contend with. When I asked them if I could pitch my tent next to the station they suggested that I try what I assumed was a campground about fifty meters down the road. I expressed my gratitude for their warmth and welcome and moved on, my body temperature having dropped enough so that I had begun to shiver. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaopv55lLDH45WR-OLpQumzqY-AoTliBcPDEIBw-I-JGGQm8qCMYtzmWYi_i8DlwAnfRY2k1-zwlaIXNAzsC_uUpboHJpbir57sAxJjv2M-ECIRNypG0Ji80f8KRSmMhgKzBQcHGtl6L8/s1600/5c+Tianchih.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468827629514707554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaopv55lLDH45WR-OLpQumzqY-AoTliBcPDEIBw-I-JGGQm8qCMYtzmWYi_i8DlwAnfRY2k1-zwlaIXNAzsC_uUpboHJpbir57sAxJjv2M-ECIRNypG0Ji80f8KRSmMhgKzBQcHGtl6L8/s400/5c+Tianchih.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At an elevation of 2,280 meters I reached my home for the night: the abandoned public restrooms and carpark at the Tianchi trailhead. A pair of symmetrical stairways flanked by white railings climbed from the highway upwards and out of sight somewhere above. On the other side of the road a small building housed the public restrooms, now abandoned, lacking electricity or running water. The clouds wafted in and out of the area and promised rain soon. I decided to set up my tent in the restrooms.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbq_N7xmLSqHuLj9mqZNVQQv59l_blHhkRcxg2kf0eiYqsBCFiacHD2gDmdK7JzDLSvQAuIWqDEw6FvAAPrRVGld7JbCJALaiuRzeph6Xnr5JaDbEroLfPW8l4Gcy_9k0AXH8Vyl0MQDU/s1600/6+Tianchih+camping.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468827617995775010" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbq_N7xmLSqHuLj9mqZNVQQv59l_blHhkRcxg2kf0eiYqsBCFiacHD2gDmdK7JzDLSvQAuIWqDEw6FvAAPrRVGld7JbCJALaiuRzeph6Xnr5JaDbEroLfPW8l4Gcy_9k0AXH8Vyl0MQDU/s400/6+Tianchih+camping.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Abandoned public restrooms at the Tianchi trailhead.</span></i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ2HfwAXyXeCUFoSs4uSd6CjTYh3ix9O1_ZoXvmpZIYa0m71lN1swhWirZxqFfouUfuI7cU1LS8vUKmgeCezb_gLv2N30_4B3xfpx3EPxjRUUfnR2o43q2HpEgxuEqj8ythkeyJP7gTKA/s1600/6a+tent.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468827610773228530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ2HfwAXyXeCUFoSs4uSd6CjTYh3ix9O1_ZoXvmpZIYa0m71lN1swhWirZxqFfouUfuI7cU1LS8vUKmgeCezb_gLv2N30_4B3xfpx3EPxjRUUfnR2o43q2HpEgxuEqj8ythkeyJP7gTKA/s400/6a+tent.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 371px;" width="371" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Everything set up for a very quiet night.</span></i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I managed to anchor my tent pegs by directing them through the metal grates and into the wall of the ditch below the floor of the bathroom. Before getting into my sleeping bag I walked back up the ramp to the carpark (at highway level) and tried one of the two peaches I had picked from the trees outside the visitor center. I had no other food and only limited water. I was a little disappointed to discover that the peach was only really ripe on one side and I was forced to throw away half of it. It had begun to rain in a light yet drenching way and the sky was darkening. As I lay in my sleeping bag inside the tent the silence was a little disquieting when combined with the thought that, in one of the most densely populated countries in the world, I was all by myself on an abandoned highway with only an unripe peach to look forward to for breakfast and I couldn't be sure that the road I was following would carry me over the mountains. I was not going to sleep well.</span><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>___________________</b></span> </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I have mapped my entire route on the Bikemap website. I've included some photos and comments along the route. Go to <a href="http://www.bikemap.net/route/471071">www.bikemap.net/route/471071</a></span></div></div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-90662204645303973032010-09-16T08:32:00.000+08:002010-09-16T08:32:47.377+08:00Taiwan's Southern Cross-Island Highway: Day 3 - Tianchih to Taidong<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">On Tuesday morning I awoke to a still and silent world, the sun not yet having broken the night. I immediately began packing my belongings away, keen to make the most of the day but also having little to do and not wanting to hang around for long at Jhongjhihguan with only the wind and the spiders and slugs for company. Breakfast consisted of my only food stuff - the other equally unripe peach - and equal to its predecessor, it was similarly bitter on one side and after eating as much of it as I could I found a new and final resting place for it somewhere at the bottom of the gorge. My water was quite cold but as much as I dislike drinking very cold water I drank half of what remained, leaving a few mouthfuls to get me over the mountain. When everything was ready I rolled my bicycle out of the bathrooms and up the ramp and back onto the Southern Cross-Island Highway (SCIH).</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The tipping point of the SCIH is the Yakou Tunnel. It is the highest point of the journey and if you can get that far then the rest is downhill - except for the uphill bits. Generally, any speed demon will get a thrill out of coming down from the Yakou Tunnel. But it still lay eleven kilometers ahead of me and so I put one foot in front of the other and made my gear wheels turn and, slowly, I began to move up along the road.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The stretch of the SCIH between Jhongjhihguan and Yakou proved to be the hardest part of the journey, for reasons apart from the incline: I hadn’t eaten a proper dinner or breakfast; I was running out of water; I was feeling the fatigue brought on by the previous day’s cycle; and I was also rather cold and alone. The road was in a terrible condition in places: broken, torn, pock-marked, or just plain absent. In most of the places where the road had been washed away by heavy run-off, construction workers had filled in the gap with dirt and rocks to form a rough and ready surface. It was still too rough for me on my bicycle with thin tires however, and just like on the previous day, my progress consisted of a series of episodes of walking alongside my bicycle while pushing it uphill, punctuated by very short stints riding it on level roadway (but almost never any more declining roadway).</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ23tSUw1UoK5SSXdRI7kTIyVJ95ZEbzbrcvfDwd7cXl18hzXgJ5YXNCgaIcKJT_0QGLWbWRaAFdLJG9JPlCYi5V64YI743eJeNOlvFIJz9PWICqX8M9znbPtWXKKiW7nYmilZN4nLNVc/s1600/6b+monkey.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468832571502163842" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ23tSUw1UoK5SSXdRI7kTIyVJ95ZEbzbrcvfDwd7cXl18hzXgJ5YXNCgaIcKJT_0QGLWbWRaAFdLJG9JPlCYi5V64YI743eJeNOlvFIJz9PWICqX8M9znbPtWXKKiW7nYmilZN4nLNVc/s400/6b+monkey.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 290px;" width="290" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>My best photo of a monkey. They're quite skittish.</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">On a couple of occasions I rounded a bend and caught monkeys disappearing into the jungle. Sometimes I would hear them scampering around in the trees up on the cliffs above the highway. I was hoping that they hadn’t learned to throw things at people.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFT490NmyzWDi_7tNtBkn_ESA4JFjVvPGslDwIGf1TBiZqzdYHZQhn3_uxc4uSRdffnZmQtY8VR_EAoPvxhnzn3rlcdiedf9nXWKgyXFlrghwQThKtY8GsI8jSJJdG6D34TDTwYo1Phl4/s1600/6c+rough+road.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468832560692486274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFT490NmyzWDi_7tNtBkn_ESA4JFjVvPGslDwIGf1TBiZqzdYHZQhn3_uxc4uSRdffnZmQtY8VR_EAoPvxhnzn3rlcdiedf9nXWKgyXFlrghwQThKtY8GsI8jSJJdG6D34TDTwYo1Phl4/s400/6c+rough+road.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" width="300" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>The concrete shoulder of the road is still in place, marking the level of where the road used to be. The temporary road of rubble and soil is not a good surface for bicycles with thin tires.</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQU6p4iZvzCrAf6TtcgThAM7NoxxhbdyGyV9YhMsKJBh7upGXeZZSEuijKHtlNTthT6Mcf0rlAdLl8uaFp1gowx94T_pOyvhfdnXDB0k0njLl1Vlwx3axbUAhIlN-NsXV-crpZQlxeUHw/s1600/6d+wet+road.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468831805907782578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQU6p4iZvzCrAf6TtcgThAM7NoxxhbdyGyV9YhMsKJBh7upGXeZZSEuijKHtlNTthT6Mcf0rlAdLl8uaFp1gowx94T_pOyvhfdnXDB0k0njLl1Vlwx3axbUAhIlN-NsXV-crpZQlxeUHw/s400/6d+wet+road.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" width="300" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>The falling water looks nice but you can see the broken road at the bottom of the photo. I think the course of this runoff was changed by typhoon damage and now it runs onto the road.</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The lack of food and water, the cold, the hard sleep I had had, and the weight of all the small uncertainties gathering at the back of my mind all took their toll and I began to feel quite vague and not quite my normal self. I began to hope that the Yakou Tunnel was just around every next bend and was consequently frequently disappointed. But more than anything I just kept going. There was nothing over on the left side of the road but clean mountain air filling the void above the valley far below. On the right, cliffs and mountain sides loomed over me, jutting out and receding as I traced the highway up into the sky.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh62NXLK-Bf8p_bajy4e8u1foJ-P4icbghRX3zHylZYYOUH6f5VnHvNCoW5rhUk-skzbiXLb-NLmunUXZ9kI2egNfx3Qf9WoExA4lKRXZ61g46E4_iprVUCyv2qj5_kU4RAxPJokvu19-M/s1600/6f+look+out+for+monkeys.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468831774303895394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh62NXLK-Bf8p_bajy4e8u1foJ-P4icbghRX3zHylZYYOUH6f5VnHvNCoW5rhUk-skzbiXLb-NLmunUXZ9kI2egNfx3Qf9WoExA4lKRXZ61g46E4_iprVUCyv2qj5_kU4RAxPJokvu19-M/s400/6f+look+out+for+monkeys.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyy8EFV_HoS2LhISTDsN4oqMccg4lX_AGqw8fZGRfel4arZyohjXfQbujsD5vBx-KADZESdckSbIxYI7u-MWy4jwmiHrpC_jV2InzlP_vsU2RA2TSYc9f3NfyWQ_MeuxX0UQsP3e-8S6c/s1600/6e+mosses+and+lichens.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468831793355398402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyy8EFV_HoS2LhISTDsN4oqMccg4lX_AGqw8fZGRfel4arZyohjXfQbujsD5vBx-KADZESdckSbIxYI7u-MWy4jwmiHrpC_jV2InzlP_vsU2RA2TSYc9f3NfyWQ_MeuxX0UQsP3e-8S6c/s400/6e+mosses+and+lichens.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"> <i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Lichens and mosses.</span></i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfb02NATRBiPQ74UDnJYD_Od-4dalQLjchwMkd9hnJwwREz0aw96i_bcz8IQybj8MzeeDOeRDsjfZ_K9uiwMy3-Tf2hShQ3l1MQuZM2PYq95-Ke6D1Y1WrsOkeR7DPwRgIDEYaoEyD3Mo/s1600/6g+recent+slide.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468831750686702994" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfb02NATRBiPQ74UDnJYD_Od-4dalQLjchwMkd9hnJwwREz0aw96i_bcz8IQybj8MzeeDOeRDsjfZ_K9uiwMy3-Tf2hShQ3l1MQuZM2PYq95-Ke6D1Y1WrsOkeR7DPwRgIDEYaoEyD3Mo/s400/6g+recent+slide.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>A particularly bad landslide. This one must be very recent. The road had been made passable after earlier damage and then further land slippage has made it impassable again. Note the black and yellow concrete barrier in the distant bottom-left of the photo. I had to pass it so I took the rack and panniers off my bicycle and carried them across to the other side. Then I returned to carry my bicycle across. On the other side I put them together again and plodded on.</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13XPgCu-AKkeRyIaq_Z_CwmW7CtulEKUoN0_4xbmpTJgerGyiATAdIQLgu8y4ejwPMIwoJ20M6zpiUfyEe8XdgSC43Ua839Lh6jRr94zeJLJK6IRrDZgfHzrNd4yFPHfjbBE9QXrqqcI/s1600/7+yakou+tunnel.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468830664932722978" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13XPgCu-AKkeRyIaq_Z_CwmW7CtulEKUoN0_4xbmpTJgerGyiATAdIQLgu8y4ejwPMIwoJ20M6zpiUfyEe8XdgSC43Ua839Lh6jRr94zeJLJK6IRrDZgfHzrNd4yFPHfjbBE9QXrqqcI/s400/7+yakou+tunnel.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" width="300" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>The western mouth of the Yakou Tunnel.</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At last I wearily turned a tight corner of the road to see the black mouth of the tunnel gaping at me from under the top of the mountain. I approached and paused before the portal. It was pitch black inside and I couldn’t see the other end. The electricity for the lights inside had either been turned off or cut off and what remained was a permanent black void where people no longer came. It may as well have been a black hole. Of course, turning back was not an option and so, after completing the pause to gather my thoughts, I took the first few tentative steps into the darkness and uncertainty, suffused with the keen sense that all of the journey that had come before had been merely preparing me for this leap of faith.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I stared into black nothing. Small, strange noises echoed around inside. Water dripping, trickling from somewhere to somewhere. After a short while I remembered that I had lights with me and I turned on both my LED head lamp and my front bicycle light but they made a negligible improvement. I adjusted the bicycle light to point at the ground directly in front of my bicycle, hoping to see and avoid walking into a pool of nasty black water. The ground felt uneven in places and I walked on rubble. Would animals take shelter in a quiet, abandoned tunnel. How long had it been since human feet had left their mark on this pavement? The darkness continued on and I passed through an eternity, lost to the world outside.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_BmjpDUIJ90p4CKFsP5ejnXE_JewhYBI2jsD_9e787oYYvzgQIN2cwo6WKcqNFYRmCGna0ZewNwdfXyIInPIAVzKmNXkwXlQRMtIhhygfgNj06E9w0_GFT9imWHje16UfL3hsDNIxBhI/s1600/7a+Yakou+Tunnel+other+side.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468830654369619890" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_BmjpDUIJ90p4CKFsP5ejnXE_JewhYBI2jsD_9e787oYYvzgQIN2cwo6WKcqNFYRmCGna0ZewNwdfXyIInPIAVzKmNXkwXlQRMtIhhygfgNj06E9w0_GFT9imWHje16UfL3hsDNIxBhI/s400/7a+Yakou+Tunnel+other+side.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>The end of the top: the eastern mouth of the Yakou Tunnel.</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When the end came it blinded me a little at first. And as the world outside was revealed I saw... piles of rubble. But no road! I froze and looked about me. Behind me, the mountain-side above the tunnel mouth was naked, stripped of its greenery but wearing a mist into which it receded out of sight. The scene was post-apocalyptic, nothing but rocks, rubble, boulders, and dirt, all cast in a grey light. As I moved forward I saw a cleft between two walls of rubble and there I found my road. I was hugely relieved to know that it too had not been swept away in some landslide.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Downhill now. It didn’t take long for me to see that that the SCIH on this side of the mountain was generally in better condition than on the other side. I saw my first human being for the day, a man in a hard hat moving large pipes about a broken section of the road way. Suddenly I knew that I would be okay. I let myself go a little and sped down the mountain-side faster than I should have. It was cold but I didn’t want to stop. The road went on and on and I was braking a lot. Sometimes I saw the rents in the roadway with only enough time left to skid to a halt on their edge or even over the edge onto the gravel and dirt.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQEwHdkn1UxMxRSCYWjLJJ1Y_mPjG13mDco8DWhTKEKqk8mLnrahTOihiTjg4ql3OqTnSy993Fzj4uEdUZecJU9NHtKbWQUt6mFZjq86pDYGTm7s-W5rSgzYsrOYLU-AXteK332j4sls/s1600/7b+East+Rift+Valley.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="322" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468830645849996978" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQEwHdkn1UxMxRSCYWjLJJ1Y_mPjG13mDco8DWhTKEKqk8mLnrahTOihiTjg4ql3OqTnSy993Fzj4uEdUZecJU9NHtKbWQUt6mFZjq86pDYGTm7s-W5rSgzYsrOYLU-AXteK332j4sls/s400/7b+East+Rift+Valley.jpg" style="display: block; height: 322px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>I enter the East Rift Valley National Scenic Area. It says so on the big marble thing behind me.</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It was at either Lidao or Liyuan that I came upon my first opportunity to buy food or water. Across the road from expansive fields of tea there was a roof covering some large tables; the kind of place that people go to eat and drink mainly for the sake of eating and drinking after a hard day’s work; definitely not fine dining. I looked in the refrigerator longing for something hot, trying not to shiver. A woman was preparing some green leafy vegetables in the corner. I turned to her as I gathered a question together but she beat me to it. She asked me (in Chinese), “Do you want something hot?”. I left her with no doubt that I did and agreed on a bowl of hot soup. She warmed up some Winter Melon Soup and I have to say that that bowl of hot Winter Melon Soup was the best soup I can remember having in Taiwan. I was blissfully happy.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqTJEhf9NP2OPg2asrWHdfsnu3kzKflLBkQ58owuLCffQ0XTLm0nNwKmgZ83MYW4YuVfPuRfim4Q4zhrAPJMjImyeq192IFoq0m5SqYekxKgFQ-53nXpFc5qiSRXObCdZb1-m_zwX15oQ/s1600/7c+Wulu+Gorge.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468830636407130962" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqTJEhf9NP2OPg2asrWHdfsnu3kzKflLBkQ58owuLCffQ0XTLm0nNwKmgZ83MYW4YuVfPuRfim4Q4zhrAPJMjImyeq192IFoq0m5SqYekxKgFQ-53nXpFc5qiSRXObCdZb1-m_zwX15oQ/s400/7c+Wulu+Gorge.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>The SCIH goes through a couple of tunnels in the Wulu Gorge area.</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It was still quite cold but very slowly warming up as I descended the mountain. As I passed through Wulu I saw someone cooking something and stopped to order some Chao Fan (fried rice) which I thoroughly enjoyed. Before leaving I purchased some milk-tea and cookies for the road. The road was busier now and punctuated with construction projects, teams of men and women in hard hats busily sculpting the landscape. I passed through Wulu Gorge and wished I had more time to stop and enjoy it. Place names came and went - Chulai, Haiduan, Guanshan (where I bought some fruit), and onwards to Taidong. By this time I had abandoned my plans to travel north and then westwards over the Central Cross-Island Highway. I had done enough for now.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbK8GmJfGixG_3IUHKd8EpzdmQylGW_JRMd4YLV2CToApxD0HkE-iuz0mY3lQ9HGYGPqn9hHZqza6FUaVhYypZcsfSZq7-i0uNv2hyphenhyphengjoIJyF7XCJP9QgiX2zw6VSxCmQAMkYVYavYFU4/s1600/7d+flat+again.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468830627985113362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbK8GmJfGixG_3IUHKd8EpzdmQylGW_JRMd4YLV2CToApxD0HkE-iuz0mY3lQ9HGYGPqn9hHZqza6FUaVhYypZcsfSZq7-i0uNv2hyphenhyphengjoIJyF7XCJP9QgiX2zw6VSxCmQAMkYVYavYFU4/s400/7d+flat+again.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>Back on a flat landscape again.</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At about ten kilometers before Taidong I suffered a flat tire. Upon inspecting my tires I was a little shocked to realise how badly scraped up and damaged they were. I attempted to fit a new inner tube myself but had problems getting my air pump to work. It occurred to me then that I had come close to disaster in the mountains: if my tire had blown on top of the mountain without a working air pump and without anyone around to help me, it could have been a very long and hungry walk to the nearest human beings. I asked a man in some kind of mechanical workshop if he could help me but he didn’t seem to recognise or understand the high-pressure valve on my tube. I walked my bicycle down the road until I saw a police station where I borrowed a pump and inflated my tire. Something wasn’t quite right and after a few kilometers, at the edge of Taidong, my tire popped with a hiss and I limped the rest of the way into town, dragging my forlorn bike along beside me.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Hotel, hot shower, tuna-sub-sandwich for dinner, laundry in the bathroom sink, and finally, the ultimate in post-trauma therapy, a comfortable warm bed.<br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>___________________</b></span> </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I have mapped my entire route on the Bikemap website. I've included some photos and comments along the route. Go to <a href="http://www.bikemap.net/route/471071">www.bikemap.net/route/471071</a></span></div></div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-26840222336701958542010-09-16T08:21:00.000+08:002010-09-16T08:21:20.111+08:00Taiwan's Southern Cross-Island Highway: Days 4 and 5 - Taidong to Tainan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg856-fabsLZGGPT-gxEB9mEdm5DbLl12AYr9qzrywr5lqC-NGc5zDZjNjdlfRkXF6LqEsuvAky_gKlH4lhC5KLnheAPwdrgT3IX07G-5w8iw-2_jFhZIferX3LtbI57DVr4Y-GbG7jVDA/s1600/8+Taidong+breakfast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468834401978583762" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg856-fabsLZGGPT-gxEB9mEdm5DbLl12AYr9qzrywr5lqC-NGc5zDZjNjdlfRkXF6LqEsuvAky_gKlH4lhC5KLnheAPwdrgT3IX07G-5w8iw-2_jFhZIferX3LtbI57DVr4Y-GbG7jVDA/s400/8+Taidong+breakfast.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" width="300" /></a><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><i>Breakfast in Taidong</i></span>.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Days four and five were spent cycling from Taidong to Danlu and then from Danlu back to Tainan. I took the South-Link Highway back across the island. After the drama of crossing the central mountain ranges of Taiwan, my return journey makes for a rather anticlimactic tale. I woke up, packed up and prepared myself as usual, breakfasted in a small breakfast shop downstairs, and headed off along the main highway out of Taidong. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoN_JSPYSDK0OeF9vjzNAc83MJDYxdaLSK8gFPWQgBwLw5LCdp8NBEFLWMntmGcuyo68p9qaZAcgWgJIE8YQ-snxPN3R-3Bv3N5mgKIDIUvQq3UdhNKy7XILMsk3sv4bo8nhaskzlOmBo/s1600/8a+junction+again+9+%26+199.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="249" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468834384229977522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoN_JSPYSDK0OeF9vjzNAc83MJDYxdaLSK8gFPWQgBwLw5LCdp8NBEFLWMntmGcuyo68p9qaZAcgWgJIE8YQ-snxPN3R-3Bv3N5mgKIDIUvQq3UdhNKy7XILMsk3sv4bo8nhaskzlOmBo/s400/8a+junction+again+9+%26+199.jpg" style="display: block; height: 249px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><i>The start of lesser road number 199 is a good landmark on the South-Link Highway.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Things only really got interesting when I stopped in the aboriginal township of Danlu for the night. If travelling westwards across the South-Link Highway, Danlu can be found about two-thirds of the way to the western coast.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;">I asked my way to the township's elementary school and then set about finding someone to ask for permission to pitch my tent for the night. I found the music teacher in the middle of some kind of special class and she took time out from eating cake to talk to me. She was extremely welcoming (no surprise in Taiwan) and tried to dissuade me from camping on the school grass and make use of the school hallway instead. But I was resolute and, despite the palpable threat of rain, I set my tent up on the grass to the amusement of a group of local children. Everybody, including a random elderly lady walking down the street by the school, had some kind of snake-related warning for me. The school oval ran right into the side of the jungled hills and so I had no doubt about the prospect of snakes joining me during the night. There was also something about the way that they told me about the snakes, a kind of flat by-the-way-ness, that left me in no doubt that they sometimes had snakes come down to the school.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdpdUAOSAL1LilkF59RAWDjc6PqiWnZCMlq5BDDLWkqOFhW7XoYt4QWpC3f123keY752Uy_xxWZXD1Vf7Nc32e3G-z2uGX6mcEyEZlxkGmM7h2ujSKZHV9u1xn3PGPty8ilAY_K3Z61L4/s1600/9+Danlu+camping.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="343" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468834374987140802" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdpdUAOSAL1LilkF59RAWDjc6PqiWnZCMlq5BDDLWkqOFhW7XoYt4QWpC3f123keY752Uy_xxWZXD1Vf7Nc32e3G-z2uGX6mcEyEZlxkGmM7h2ujSKZHV9u1xn3PGPty8ilAY_K3Z61L4/s400/9+Danlu+camping.jpg" style="display: block; height: 343px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><i>Camping on the school grounds of Danlu Elementary School.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;">While setting up for the night, I made friends with the local kids and when I asked them where I could find a restaurant they told me to follow them. We walked up the street a couple of blocks from the school and then turned left and stopped at a very nondescript building. It didn't show any signs of being the kind of place where dinner could be gotten but when I stepped inside my perceptions changed. Half of the small room was occupied by a cluttered kitchen while the other half contained a few tables and chairs. Various aboriginal knick-knacks decorated the walls. To my great relief and delight there was a menu hung up on the wall above the kitchen space, confirming that this was indeed a restaurant. A middle-aged woman was busying herself in the kitchen and I bothered her to ask about dinner. It turned out that she was closing up for the day so that she could make an appearance at the local church. With the help of the kids translating for me, we established that she would be happy to make up some kind of noodle dinner for me before closing. That sounded wonderful and so, after a short wait, I was presented with a plastic container full of noodles with meat and vegetables; a hearty meal at the end of a long day. The kids took me to what must have been their parent's or relative's shop and sat me down outside it so that I could eat my dinner. I was getting along quite well with them and my Chinese was really getting a workout. The two boys went away and returned suddenly with their Nintendo Gameboys and kept me company with their beeping, shooting, racing, and exploding. I kept up a conversation with a young girl of about seven years, doing my best to keep up my end of the conversation through a mouthful of noodles. She wasn't a great conversationalist and everything suddenly began to wear on me. The kids had to go home and I was left to finish my dinner and then return to my own home, temporary though it was. I read for a while before going to sleep, infused with a sense of satisfaction from adventures had and challenges overcome. It had been a good day.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2pJzSJCfz5VNeVbL-tU1_5S2DaCPreD9YQ60IIHkVhUZvNVHmXNE9gO71F1Yb7aq1wzdevSvOPZFbdHKOw-GVJz3uflMN0UPZHtJBcNO9IwgC67kSHBNbAtBYP3LUPXaCW8q1Q_zVeA/s1600/9a+bug.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468833769765997074" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2pJzSJCfz5VNeVbL-tU1_5S2DaCPreD9YQ60IIHkVhUZvNVHmXNE9gO71F1Yb7aq1wzdevSvOPZFbdHKOw-GVJz3uflMN0UPZHtJBcNO9IwgC67kSHBNbAtBYP3LUPXaCW8q1Q_zVeA/s400/9a+bug.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 295px;" width="295" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><i>I found this monster bug in the school bathrooms. It was about eight centimeters long from the end of its tail to its mandibles.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The new light of the following day threw the zeitgeist of the previous evening into a skew. Things became very ordinary and a little disappointing. I packed up and started on my way to the restaurant I had been to for dinner. I hadn't gotten very far when I was caught by a woman from the shop I had eaten outside the night before and encouraged in for a drink. I shared a drink with a middle-aged woman and her aunt. From what I could gather through a haze of half-understood Chinese, the aunt seemed to be keen on having children with me and attempted to charm me with her vision of how beautiful they would look with our combined features. I wasn't really in the mood for fostering an illegitimate love-child in a small aboriginal village in Taiwan and as things got progressively more awkward I made my excuses and left to find breakfast.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;">While at the restaurant on the previous night I had learned that she would be open again for breakfast and I intended to return in the morning to patronise her fine establishment. I also wanted to spend some money, having received my dinner for free. But things were different in the morning. She was busy and preoccupied with several other people who seemed to be sitting around more because they wanted to socialise and less because they needed to eat. I felt like a chore. I had some toast and some ice-tea, paid up, thanked her, and departed to the bemusement of the other patrons.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Upon leaving Danlu, I decided that it was a great place to visit but that I probably wouldn't want to live there.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwsp3AmBMNrJl7RQFyCuytpKpBMogvsKu4iPngovBizLf3evlvNjYTO_kSKx5jZ2lPbBpOWyjGJNamulIgdHwqkjwaRulQZXifmqhIO8ROcTOqG-YZM3jmynqWGtZEVxdnkE0zLqrKU6g/s1600/9b+start+185.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468833761742740114" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwsp3AmBMNrJl7RQFyCuytpKpBMogvsKu4iPngovBizLf3evlvNjYTO_kSKx5jZ2lPbBpOWyjGJNamulIgdHwqkjwaRulQZXifmqhIO8ROcTOqG-YZM3jmynqWGtZEVxdnkE0zLqrKU6g/s400/9b+start+185.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">On the west coast I headed inland and along the foothills up the 185</span></span></i>.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGG_STriyCxwl-dO0OjgLTX4yjeqRhAQ4uJWLh2w6ITBhztALh7UBJdij-hSU_B0SjToIl8bfUM8IPHpBeO8XOFiN2ePcuwI4gfLRa6agAEv1-ZCcuw1vtghETyCovhBJhhONEOLBQe4w/s1600/9c+video+games.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468833746150108210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGG_STriyCxwl-dO0OjgLTX4yjeqRhAQ4uJWLh2w6ITBhztALh7UBJdij-hSU_B0SjToIl8bfUM8IPHpBeO8XOFiN2ePcuwI4gfLRa6agAEv1-ZCcuw1vtghETyCovhBJhhONEOLBQe4w/s400/9c+video+games.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">In the middle of nowhere I came upon a gambling machine and video game graveyard.</span></i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLER50ERlanA5cIF3-K6hI6B5zm-lh9aBvk3LiNlnlF0I6TgGk3Hl3h8iEIpHMF-JeiHY1fkYyZHu9EvOvmsuaDZPIHlqmaSZ4TXjnoRmRl9GZpN0Mshvzwn_NUswE07u2J9vvK6w3SfQ/s1600/9d+sega+rally.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468833740477470722" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLER50ERlanA5cIF3-K6hI6B5zm-lh9aBvk3LiNlnlF0I6TgGk3Hl3h8iEIpHMF-JeiHY1fkYyZHu9EvOvmsuaDZPIHlqmaSZ4TXjnoRmRl9GZpN0Mshvzwn_NUswE07u2J9vvK6w3SfQ/s400/9d+sega+rally.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Sega Rally was big in 1995. I remember seeing it in the arcades. Now it sits forlorn in the wilderness, slowly decomposing, like so many other memories from my childhood.</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhboC60Ftqb8125oUiB8AESxj6BP0hXmF7NdIRk9GVWB1QsEg2PDf7Tq5tYHzcp9AHxRM6nI8NMGsxHVs0BP9Me3yNaRfx4KMPBqsHiQX-lTRDhfuULO6pAekE2BwYAkc12QlNX-3INacE/s1600/9e+circuit+board.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="240" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468833722526912530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhboC60Ftqb8125oUiB8AESxj6BP0hXmF7NdIRk9GVWB1QsEg2PDf7Tq5tYHzcp9AHxRM6nI8NMGsxHVs0BP9Me3yNaRfx4KMPBqsHiQX-lTRDhfuULO6pAekE2BwYAkc12QlNX-3INacE/s320/9e+circuit+board.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">We may be impressed with a lot of what modern technology makes possible but when everything is finished it will all be swallowed up again by the forests.</span></i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The rest of my journey home was straightforward; a series of highways and roads that took me up along the foothills and then westwards back to Tainan. I suffered from a badly-worn tire and another puncture which slowed my progress considerably. Andrea rode her bicycle out to meet me and we rode the last leg home together.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"> <b> ______________________________________</b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm;">In hindsight I have come to see my journey over the mountains as something more significant than a simple bicycle tour. For me it was a personal challenge in which my supports were removed and then, at the end, I was forced to make a leap of faith into darkness and uncertainty without being able to see where I was going. Mountains come very naturally as a metaphor for challenges, be they personal, logistical, financial, spiritual, or otherwise. I will finish this post with an excerpt from an email I wrote to a friend not long after I finished this journey across the Southern Cross-Island Highway:</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><blockquote><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> I have realised in hindsight that it all felt like a big metaphor. Andrea was there to support me at the start but the real work (climbing the mountain) was something I had to do by myself. There's just something about mountains and getting to the top. It's such a common metaphor for any kind of big challenge. You know, I guess it was like Heart of Darkness, wherein the journey took me further and further into the wilderness and away from humanity and civilization; the road was closed and after a while I didn't even see any construction workers. It was just me and the broken road. And I got focused on getting to the Yakou Tunnel at the top. I knew that I just had to get up there and through the tunnel and then I would be okay because it was all downhill from there on. The road got pretty bad. At one point I had to take the rack off my bike and carry it across a recent landslide and then come back and carry my bike as well (too many big rocks). I saw monkeys up there. And it's funny how circumstances conspired to take away so much. Although the road exists on maps, maps tell me nothing about the state or condition of the road and different people told me different things about it. Some said it was open and some said it was closed so I was really heading into uncertainty. And (partially) because of that I had to put my tent up in a bathroom near the top on the mountain when the clouds descended and visibility was severely reduced as night closed in and I hadn't brought any more food so I missed out on dinner and breakfast. So it was funny the way that so many important things were stripped away from me so that if I was going to get over the mountains it was going to be with minimal support - no companions, no food, no way of knowing whether I would be able to go all the way over, no idea what lay ahead, no fresh water, no electricity, no phone reception. And when I did finally make it to the Yakou Tunnel I was faced with one last challenge before being free of my predicament - the tunnel was unlit and pitch black and I realised that it was not being used because the road was closed and even the construction workers had no reason to go there. I couldn't go back and so, like all good adventures, getting through to the other side required a leap of faith into the darkness without being able to see the other end. I had a light on my bike and a head light but they didn't help much and there were all sorts of strange sounds being made by water inside the tunnel. Of course, I did make it through and from then on the rest of the journey was just logistical, getting back to Tainan via the South-Link Highway down by Kending. In hindsight I had been drawn to do what I did and I'm glad I did it. It was just something I felt I had to do and it all has a strange sense of something intangible and special about it.</div></blockquote><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>POST SCRIPT:</b> At the time of completing this series of posts the Southern Cross-Island Highway appears to be closed indefinitely although I have seen something on the net about it possibly re-opening next year.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>___________________</b></span> </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I have mapped my entire route on the Bikemap website. I've included some photos and comments along the route. Go to <a href="http://www.bikemap.net/route/471071">www.bikemap.net/route/471071</a></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLER50ERlanA5cIF3-K6hI6B5zm-lh9aBvk3LiNlnlF0I6TgGk3Hl3h8iEIpHMF-JeiHY1fkYyZHu9EvOvmsuaDZPIHlqmaSZ4TXjnoRmRl9GZpN0Mshvzwn_NUswE07u2J9vvK6w3SfQ/s1600/9d+sega+rally.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a></div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-6248990639295192512010-07-21T18:42:00.005+08:002010-07-21T18:51:37.674+08:00Two-day cycle: Tainan to Chiayi and back<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Just a quick one - and no photos for a change. Andrea finished up at Sharefun English school last Friday and left early the following morning for Vietnam. There she will meet up with a friend and they will experience the experiences of experiential Vietnam. I, on the other hand, will not finish at my school until the 14th of August; these are private schools and they schedule their academic calendars differently from one another. And so I will have the next three weeks all to myself.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The van arrived to pick Andrea up at 5am on Saturday morning. I arose around 7am, breakfasted while poring over a map of Southern Taiwan, packed up, and headed out for two days on the road. I felt I really needed to get out of Tainan and to go exploring. I chose to cycle to Chiayi because the distance suited me for a two-day tour and because starting off from Chiayi on Sunday morning would allow me to return to Tainan via the foothill roads through the hot-spring mecca of Guanziling and southwards behind Wushantou Reservoir.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">For some reason (perhaps related to the <i>she'll-be-right,-mate</i> attitude I inherited as an Australian by birth) I neglected to apply any sunblock to my surfaces, believing that my tan made me immune to the effects of prolonged exposure to ultra-violet radiation. Despite making amends by applying some sunscreen several hours into the journey, I could feel that I was sunburned by the time I arrived in Chiayi and I still had a return journey to make! This presented me with a tough choice on Sunday morning: catch the train back to Tainan to avoid further burning; or do my best to minimize any more skin damage and cycle back to Tainan as planned. I decided to cycle back and accept some level of skin damage. However, I used all the strategies available to me to protect myself including: buying some strong (SPF50+) sunblock cream and applying liberally; riding on the wrong side of the road (in places where there was shade on the other side); alternating between walking in the shade and cycling in the sunny stretches (I only did this in the hills to avoid having to walk up any inclines in the sun), timing my rests in the shade to coincide with full sun; cycling anytime there was any cloud shadow; altering the position of my hands and arms on the handlebars to spread out the sun's effect; and when I got back to Tainan, I steered a course through the city to keep me in the shade of large buildings. It all seemed to have worked and I suffered no noticeable additional burning.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Altogether I covered just over 200km in the two days and arrived back in Tainan weary but satisfied with my effort. Finally, here is a map of the route compiled on the Bikemap website.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: white; border: 2px solid rgb(42, 136, 172); color: #535353; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 9px; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 2px; margin-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 3px ! important; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: right; width: 500px;"><iframe ="" border="0" frameborder="0" height="610" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://www.bikemap.net/route/599966/widget?width=500&height=400&maptype=2&extended=true&unit=km&redirect=no" width="500"></iframe><br />
Bike route <a href="http://www.bikemap.net/route/599966" style="color: #2a88ac; text-decoration: underline;">599966</a> - powered by <a href="http://www.bikemap.net/" style="color: #2a88ac; text-decoration: underline;">Bikemap</a> </div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-61533150361892600112010-06-15T07:47:00.000+08:002010-06-16T11:47:15.623+08:00Cycling around Taiwan: Prologue<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" face="arial" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" face="arial" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"></div><div style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Taiwan is an island. So is Australia. One day I'd like to ride all the way around Australia but right now I don't have the essential luxuries I need to attempt that. However, Taiwan is much smaller and cycling all the way around it is much cheaper and won't take six months. In fact, depending on how fast you are able to cycle (which in turn depends on things like your physical condition, the weather, what kind of bicycle you have and how much gear you need to take with you) you could cycle around Taiwan in as few as four days. You might be able to do it in fewer days but I don't know what the record is. However, most average people attempting this feat will probably take around 7-14 days.</span></span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">It would be a terrible shame for someone who loves riding their bicycle (i.e., me) to have lived in Taiwan and not spent a long week just traveling around the country only as fast as their two legs carried them on two wheels. The island really does offer a diverse landscape of different terrains, climates, local specialty foods, cultures, and random encounters with its inhabitants. My desire became a reality in February and March of this year when I cycled with my two friends, John and Andrea, around the country. Our big break came with the Chinese New Year vacation of 2010. We were all freed from our employment obligations for two weeks; Good time in which to make the most of brakes, chains, gear levers, handlebars, pedals, spokes, tires, and saddles. We started out from our home base in the city of Tainan on the south-western coast on the 9th of February and started cycling anti-clockwise around the island. Unfortunately a series of three cold fronts was on the way and it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed with ours. After three days of wind and rain we were forced to abort our peregrination in Hsinchu, within one or two days of Tainan. We were despondent.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Almost one month later we were in Hsinchu again, setting off to complete our circumnavigation of Taiwan. We rode all through the night and into the morning until once again we were standing outside our apartment building having our photo taken by one of the security guards: A 'finished' photo to mate with our 'before' photo. The photo showed the three of us looking more or less the same as we had over five weeks earlier. What it failed to capture was how we had been enriched by our experiences: the people we had met, the time we friends had spent together, and all the beauty of this remarkable place that we had been steeped in.</span></span><br />
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</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">This series of thirteen posts and the accompanying map at </span><a href="http://www.bikemap.net/route/405311" style="font-weight: normal;">Bikemap.com</a><span style="font-weight: normal;"> describe our journey. We hope that it may inspire other ordinary people wanting to experience something extraordinary.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">My friends on this journey:</span></span></div><div class="separator" face="arial" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="separator" face="arial" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrDypZXIxEUf6tfzhYLWFzMF0reDvcRbq0VCXsdTwKOSywLoJLpI0HttqnAmrwWDHcdfLhNEt_qW3yu0X9VakplXCIdlwwEUNKaFxrL5HVtlgWIqSpWR71xcSvziO6nevXhj49scxhnG0/s640/Andrea.jpg" width="426" /></span><span style="font-size: small; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The beautiful and very capable Andrea.</span></span></div><div class="separator" face="arial" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" face="arial" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Va_vczEHtIPUoCNtu3OEDnRd_nb5_E7Nb86mV9zuDoOKwTo90FRqhAZ7TedMXEK-D99Cw8wgF1IADDtDUdE0rhNNMFGr4flnb23a3inTiCR7xtiUp0ZPkvPLnnXHlu0hZ6SCKXrR7lc/s1600/John.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Va_vczEHtIPUoCNtu3OEDnRd_nb5_E7Nb86mV9zuDoOKwTo90FRqhAZ7TedMXEK-D99Cw8wgF1IADDtDUdE0rhNNMFGr4flnb23a3inTiCR7xtiUp0ZPkvPLnnXHlu0hZ6SCKXrR7lc/s640/John.jpg" width="428" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The dashing and charismatic John.</span></span></div><div class="separator" face="arial" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" face="arial" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir4v1cbGJBYApc6usGGeTGvHbYoMuTtS_UAfLQ-c6pMVOMUxaqIVuQFvQPzCtIYhXbHVMDCOL0V9FZwC_DIJiwivBxa7z2k49skMaJFnZE4i7JWny0CdS37MlIaEgiwGMlyjZnORHcjmI/s1600/Adrian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir4v1cbGJBYApc6usGGeTGvHbYoMuTtS_UAfLQ-c6pMVOMUxaqIVuQFvQPzCtIYhXbHVMDCOL0V9FZwC_DIJiwivBxa7z2k49skMaJFnZE4i7JWny0CdS37MlIaEgiwGMlyjZnORHcjmI/s640/Adrian.jpg" width="467" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: arial; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" face="arial" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" face="arial" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Me. That was a stupid idea.</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black;">____________________________________________</span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Links</b></span></div><ul style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><li><span style="font-size: small;">John has also blogged this trip although he has included edited video sequences on <a href="http://juanitospace.blogspot.com/2010/02/cycling-around-taiwan-day-1-tainan-to.html">his page here</a>.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">I have retraced our route and left remarks and photos on the <a href="http://www.bikemap.net/route/405311">Bikemap website here</a>.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">I have written up some useful advice for anybody touring around Taiwan by bicycle. You can find that information on my page about <a href="http://sesquipedaustralian.blogspot.com/p/advice-for-cycling-around-taiwan.html">cycling in Taiwan</a>. </span></li>
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmslICkwCRDnyi9vny06zzX4HhPqkAMogFIwh-cxxOxg5bZLkZAR52sLt56pxoeHp3qnuzIXU0Y_v4R8CBTg4WHGzjGbuujUW3HKi0IN_SgPhN-8iiE5opXImWwP0jAhNaQsxygTfo-I/s1600/Me+in+kitchen+eve.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmslICkwCRDnyi9vny06zzX4HhPqkAMogFIwh-cxxOxg5bZLkZAR52sLt56pxoeHp3qnuzIXU0Y_v4R8CBTg4WHGzjGbuujUW3HKi0IN_SgPhN-8iiE5opXImWwP0jAhNaQsxygTfo-I/s640/Me+in+kitchen+eve.JPG" style="height: 172px; width: 436px;" /></a></div><div style="font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">On the eve of the first day of the big ride, I do some last-minute packing in our living area.</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br />
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</span>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-74798571128026196232010-06-15T07:46:00.001+08:002010-06-16T11:50:16.211+08:00Cycling around Taiwan: Day 1: Tainan to Chaojhou<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Start of Day 1:</b> February 9.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>Location:</b> An-ping district (</span></span><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">安平區</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">), Tainan City (</span></span><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">台南</span><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">市</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">).</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigfCfgqVJNbGzxkuRaZFe8vLpxOuHF6EVfZ7hRGgme17xCSWiJSGLzVHVpwpyVenEs1JGJ5BcrFjcZXHWpW57Wx6Fe6LVOl7VcBf_d6dmAqXFNDDs-w-vqjL1G27rowUwcvUcCZYoxFus/s1600/1+Andrea+prepare+gorp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="347" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigfCfgqVJNbGzxkuRaZFe8vLpxOuHF6EVfZ7hRGgme17xCSWiJSGLzVHVpwpyVenEs1JGJ5BcrFjcZXHWpW57Wx6Fe6LVOl7VcBf_d6dmAqXFNDDs-w-vqjL1G27rowUwcvUcCZYoxFus/s400/1+Andrea+prepare+gorp.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Andrea prepares one of the essential stays of our expedition: 'gorp' or trail mix; a great form of slow-release energy food; nice and easy on the stomach and bowels and a guard against the potential for gastrointestinal complications caused by the sometimes caustic mix of eating a lot of questionable food and long-distance cycling. By the way, a lot of people believe that the term 'gorp' originates as an acronym for <i>Good Old Raisins and Peanuts</i> but this may not be true according to <a href="http://www.worldwidewords.org/qa/qa-gor1.htm">Michael Quinion</a>.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCJT3WCLdz-XbFuqJSuGHXmN9JxKVBaXGcAIa4gt8Ed110oJxqzEXmiZcg07UC-9n51NsLcdvymjvOJ4Vnphp5JOjvNK_7eIZggLKpjrk27dAYV1fXMFO7cVAo1j6dS0_aNGsmJStJn6k/s1600/2+group+outside+building.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCJT3WCLdz-XbFuqJSuGHXmN9JxKVBaXGcAIa4gt8Ed110oJxqzEXmiZcg07UC-9n51NsLcdvymjvOJ4Vnphp5JOjvNK_7eIZggLKpjrk27dAYV1fXMFO7cVAo1j6dS0_aNGsmJStJn6k/s400/2+group+outside+building.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">The requisite <i>before</i> photo, expected to be matched up later with an <i>after</i> photo. We began pedaling at about 8:25 in the morning. It was a foggy, hazy morning and the sun was only a warm glow in the sky. The roads were quite busy. It felt good to finally be starting out on an adventure we'd been talking about for months.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFdbV2deP-xoe61hwKNYUTpoTI2G2AIgSywx0ArM_dGlBo_26rAu_XrVx-dzT2dIknFfvJX0QRnaI_VONde6SG1KeEr8B5U0ut13GPn_eLNNvZcxqB9OZV0QUecX-3BcOd8VWqc5XoXd4/s1600/3+lunch+noodles+in+kaohsiung.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFdbV2deP-xoe61hwKNYUTpoTI2G2AIgSywx0ArM_dGlBo_26rAu_XrVx-dzT2dIknFfvJX0QRnaI_VONde6SG1KeEr8B5U0ut13GPn_eLNNvZcxqB9OZV0QUecX-3BcOd8VWqc5XoXd4/s400/3+lunch+noodles+in+kaohsiung.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">A stop in Kaohsiung for lunch: hearty beef noodles and fruit teas with a lot of pulp.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNm46v7wIppFocjbWkfVJoyog0010z4WASPjIo3EcNf-bvkuP34YeB_AoFAkhYmWWdHrp5FCeh3CqbHZVX5E91-rvmhzdzhZCD8Bk_XPcLKoOWjlgyrrEh3-mh04HDPNw3TTq57Yb0F3w/s1600/4+john+ado+kaohsiung+circle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNm46v7wIppFocjbWkfVJoyog0010z4WASPjIo3EcNf-bvkuP34YeB_AoFAkhYmWWdHrp5FCeh3CqbHZVX5E91-rvmhzdzhZCD8Bk_XPcLKoOWjlgyrrEh3-mh04HDPNw3TTq57Yb0F3w/s400/4+john+ado+kaohsiung+circle.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">A major intersection in Kaohsiung with cool architectural features. John always says that Kaohsiung is so cool. Obviously.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhZil5qJokvAsDkE0-S5rIVo824_xi7laJPWue34uIwG2OxlFr2YARFZHUyLCdeZArHOf0qwlx9V30_UN4LJrRahrAa16yTTmxTemF-GYDlOHmF0O3Ew8InagVSYLjeLtXJQpU0HIfHs/s1600/5+across+road+from+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhZil5qJokvAsDkE0-S5rIVo824_xi7laJPWue34uIwG2OxlFr2YARFZHUyLCdeZArHOf0qwlx9V30_UN4LJrRahrAa16yTTmxTemF-GYDlOHmF0O3Ew8InagVSYLjeLtXJQpU0HIfHs/s400/5+across+road+from+7.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Down the road from Kaohsiung we stopped at a 7-11 for a rest and refreshment stop. Sitting out in front of the convenience store, we admired the local architecture adorning this provincial highway.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Tlpb_a29M4mebhEepcuZzelN82k2gqgbWQQSgWAqLju6EHrfPK-fzqJKstrQzllMY4obePHm7VNw1BttzvxXnhSZnIzXMv6WGsWHYKPoeS5SdCyPShmpm_a9Y1-qUhSUr7pmPxRRcko/s1600/6+me+%26+gorp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Tlpb_a29M4mebhEepcuZzelN82k2gqgbWQQSgWAqLju6EHrfPK-fzqJKstrQzllMY4obePHm7VNw1BttzvxXnhSZnIzXMv6WGsWHYKPoeS5SdCyPShmpm_a9Y1-qUhSUr7pmPxRRcko/s400/6+me+%26+gorp.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sitting outside the 7-eleven. From left to right: A bag of gorp; me; Open-Chan!, the 7-eleven mascot.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQ19N6BCq55q8G5gSbamobKVC-prWZS97jNHxLJ9b6jqNik7iYql3VY6anpbKSv2NfvQzw_BfvOYzTeCEVHPyXpmkJaoH5fvo_N7uGs_A13EzWH3G71QTusa41ifl2Hz18irfLqwa-es/s1600/7+sunglasses+shot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQ19N6BCq55q8G5gSbamobKVC-prWZS97jNHxLJ9b6jqNik7iYql3VY6anpbKSv2NfvQzw_BfvOYzTeCEVHPyXpmkJaoH5fvo_N7uGs_A13EzWH3G71QTusa41ifl2Hz18irfLqwa-es/s400/7+sunglasses+shot.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sitting outside the 7-eleven. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24AL38Zlmc8zo_ub8j5km12OelaF8s9LGq96Or38JOD6oZ7tughNL2tbqaOoy3xqRyDmaFhElHU7qrO6IgUkasRmRQ0NZ4iBGmCylREJmWtmOIUXvT-mfQbOvYWcFSfNRdPESaJntQ3A/s1600/8+lovely+river.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24AL38Zlmc8zo_ub8j5km12OelaF8s9LGq96Or38JOD6oZ7tughNL2tbqaOoy3xqRyDmaFhElHU7qrO6IgUkasRmRQ0NZ4iBGmCylREJmWtmOIUXvT-mfQbOvYWcFSfNRdPESaJntQ3A/s400/8+lovely+river.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Further down the road, I noticed how strangely beautiful is the blending of this river fringed by aquatic flora and southern Kaohsiung's heavy industry. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50btgVvt2OaPR7gMfJ7e8gIjkoMFjMGP1IJt_TcKLkaj-YanfeNN13eupi20QQvNPwv_E6gBXc9NAmo4JjLfBOcMMMN0FFOaD5V1s2GsoDWo3qjjcVCfkQwKbAJcKN-zw64hV3_O6MMs/s1600/10+checking+the+map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50btgVvt2OaPR7gMfJ7e8gIjkoMFjMGP1IJt_TcKLkaj-YanfeNN13eupi20QQvNPwv_E6gBXc9NAmo4JjLfBOcMMMN0FFOaD5V1s2GsoDWo3qjjcVCfkQwKbAJcKN-zw64hV3_O6MMs/s400/10+checking+the+map.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">After cycling through the town of Linyuan down the No.17 Highway we discover that the bridge over the Gaoping river is closed due to maintenance and repair and so we must find another way across. We re-route up the No.21 and onto the No.88 which will take us across the river.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Reconnoitering in the township of Chaojhou in search of dinner. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>_______________________________________</b></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>End of day 1:</b> February 9. <b>Location:</b> Chaojhou (潮州鄉), Pingdong county (屏東縣). <b>Distance on my electronic odometer:</b> 100km. <b>Accommodation: </b>cheap hotel close to the downtown area. <b>Remarks:</b> didn't sleep well due to fireworks, nasty diarrhoea (those afflicted will remain anonymous to save embarrassment), and mid-sleep leg cramps causing the victim/s to suddenly leap out of bed (anonymous again). </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"></div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-24006614443841610782010-06-15T07:45:00.000+08:002010-06-16T11:45:32.354+08:00Cycling around Taiwan: Day 2: Chaojhou to Kenting<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Start day 2:</b> February 10. </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Location:</b> Chaojhou Township (潮州鄉), Pingdong county (屏東縣). </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Remarks:</b> Woke up at 7:10am. Ate a breakfast consisting of our trail mix and a few things from 7-11.<br />
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</span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSqE2O0XnV4hoLXcRMPUDUUlwyiWP48BgZEY75peDKDmrnuMs_1Oc9ItIgb7nQ18rZaQ5BPQnoJSuz2ub3_50BnRSjgRKgoQ3_LXS3jPiUQRM4EvMz-wWSR79oKmrASvskClOVE6yBJ94/s1600/1+chaojhou+sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSqE2O0XnV4hoLXcRMPUDUUlwyiWP48BgZEY75peDKDmrnuMs_1Oc9ItIgb7nQ18rZaQ5BPQnoJSuz2ub3_50BnRSjgRKgoQ3_LXS3jPiUQRM4EvMz-wWSR79oKmrASvskClOVE6yBJ94/s400/1+chaojhou+sunrise.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
The sun rising over the central mountain range as viewed from atop our hotel in Chaojhou.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbKZULtJIINaBbNIVrtTML7alR_abXdftdBXsdwWj-m6wmo9C2_cHkqbgqz_YhTsdVRlqe0kX0-cimPJ0vviDPEvhmUajjAZQZMr0EPBfgtIMRhEhe53zgL2pnmlsqzEpEw3_xoRTrVvg/s1600/2+typical+breakfast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbKZULtJIINaBbNIVrtTML7alR_abXdftdBXsdwWj-m6wmo9C2_cHkqbgqz_YhTsdVRlqe0kX0-cimPJ0vviDPEvhmUajjAZQZMr0EPBfgtIMRhEhe53zgL2pnmlsqzEpEw3_xoRTrVvg/s640/2+typical+breakfast.jpg" width="360" /></a><br />
We breakfasted at a local establishment called 7-Eleven. This photo illustrates a typical breakfast on our cycling trip: fresh local fruit purchased the previous evening, yoghurt, our gorp or trail mix, and some milk into which the gorp can be added. The carrot in the photo is a bit random and was something I brought with me from home. I intended to munch as we rode down the highway but unfortunately [I think] I sat it on my bike rack from where it promptly fell off as soon as we started cycling. Poor carrot.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpV0zdt48T7OBNt28wFeDSUeu54MY3Vg1UonyOX3ZNtAPOPUmXOSeEzrws8ebuoEQ-wFaSYaEN5REyju9Vk0UT4ie0ExBPlSZY7Q7piJwGvMiV02XBZsa8Mlm8ZjvEcd5_XkNu1dBA84/s1600/3+little+cove+stop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpV0zdt48T7OBNt28wFeDSUeu54MY3Vg1UonyOX3ZNtAPOPUmXOSeEzrws8ebuoEQ-wFaSYaEN5REyju9Vk0UT4ie0ExBPlSZY7Q7piJwGvMiV02XBZsa8Mlm8ZjvEcd5_XkNu1dBA84/s400/3+little+cove+stop.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
Getting closer to Pingdong. It was a beautiful day with a clear blue sky from where the sun beat down mercilessly upon us. It was a relief to find this shelter overlooking a beautiful little cove where we sat and consolidated some of our stamina.<br />
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We rolled into Kenting Township and were stopped at a set of traffic lights when a woman approached us to solicit our patronage at her establishment, some kind of hotel or homestay. Doubtfully, we followed her back to the hotel. We were a little taken aback to discover that what she was offering us was actually a lot nicer than what we would have considered probable. Clean, airy, and stylish, the place definitely had a touch of the Mediterranean about it. It only cost us NT$400 per person for the night and they even did our laundry for free. What you cannot see in the photo is the water machine, the refrigerator, the bathroom, or the huge flat-screen TV.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcHdCserKplitx7pZA052Egt5UYKPms1p03TadxTkbUF-nTmi-Vd_ja5wX767HTQ1ABXegkHbD-j1l2s_d6Ix5wdsRVh84BEAhv3eavTcBOTzVvq2lxE7TErseL44AsnpM5vKfQiBYBi8/s1600/5+kenting+street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcHdCserKplitx7pZA052Egt5UYKPms1p03TadxTkbUF-nTmi-Vd_ja5wX767HTQ1ABXegkHbD-j1l2s_d6Ix5wdsRVh84BEAhv3eavTcBOTzVvq2lxE7TErseL44AsnpM5vKfQiBYBi8/s400/5+kenting+street.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
Kenting nightlife along the main street through town.<br />
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At night the place really comes alive and the main street is lined with little stalls selling all kinds of things or offering all kinds of services like massages and games.<br />
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Out in front of a seafood restaurant, this man knows how to make a dead fish look good. He uses skewers to prop up their fins. He's obviously had a lot of practice at this. However, his mastery with the skewer wasn't enough to entice us inside and instead we ate at a Thai restaurant on the main street after which we slept soundly.<br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>___________________________________________________</b><br />
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</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>End of day 2:</b> February 10. </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Location:</b> Kenting Township (崁頂鄉), Pingdong County (屏東縣). </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Distance on my electronic odometer:</b> 177km. </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Accommodation:</b> cheap but very nice hotel down a little alleyway off the main road of Kenting Township; NT$400 pp. </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Remarks:</b> We slept well after a feast at the Thai restaurant on the main street.<br />
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</span></div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-17302073614219234032010-06-15T07:44:00.000+08:002010-06-16T11:44:44.818+08:00Cycling around Taiwan: Day 3: Kenting to Dawu<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Start day 3:</b> February 11. </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Location:</b> Kenting Township (崁頂鄉), Pingdong County (屏東縣). </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Remarks:</b> Woke up at 5:00am. We were out on the street and ready to ride at 6:25, just as the sun was coming up. The street was quiet and deserted, lined with empty carts and stalls; quite a contrast from the party atmosphere of the night before. A fresh breeze and a few small clouds in the sky saw us on our way.<br />
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</span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQZfBuas-4KZLGJc0m26IxhhDTTik5HXn15lCC00DH91IRUMEvr-tcnlBnQsZLdIKXMeiZc6IHhkjHV3Ow9Zm69HSIhi7PZGmu4NhblHodaxgrttTmyhQXDeyB25l1rSNLONQciN9N1k/s1600/1+kenting+morning+street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQZfBuas-4KZLGJc0m26IxhhDTTik5HXn15lCC00DH91IRUMEvr-tcnlBnQsZLdIKXMeiZc6IHhkjHV3Ow9Zm69HSIhi7PZGmu4NhblHodaxgrttTmyhQXDeyB25l1rSNLONQciN9N1k/s400/1+kenting+morning+street.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
Out on the main street of Kenting Township at daybreak. After a short ride we would be getting close to the southernmost point of Taiwan.<br />
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And here it is: a map of the southernmost point showing both of the southern capes of Kenting National Park. This map can be found on the monument marking the <b>You Are Here</b> area in the photo above.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicDKrRPUJQMccGsyoVNwK0PjXtr-ebQh-CTSVHUDDu4pSPxSEdrdUEsGBQCnxRm9RMri33PNOg4NLANM-csjofRlwfJgbf6o9FgH6hsQjSZ37gHebVVhmCSSEzaZfxcMc3CcIya_XGvFk/s1600/2+southern+point1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicDKrRPUJQMccGsyoVNwK0PjXtr-ebQh-CTSVHUDDu4pSPxSEdrdUEsGBQCnxRm9RMri33PNOg4NLANM-csjofRlwfJgbf6o9FgH6hsQjSZ37gHebVVhmCSSEzaZfxcMc3CcIya_XGvFk/s400/2+southern+point1.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
John and Andrea at the beginning of the pathway from the main road down to the southernmost monument. It was still very early in the morning when we arrived and the early morning light is quite pale.<br />
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We arrived at the monument to find that several other people were already there admiring the new day from the bottom of Taiwan. As soon as we walked out along the short boardwalk they seemed to disappear, leaving us alone with an almost invisible armada of small black insects that just wouldn't go away.<br />
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A bit of logistical flimdiggery by John allowed us to get a good group shot.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfA8qqv9jhgrYfKvpu78JAQVxl-ovmecKwi43vO6J7ElSSf0KnhIzK5ET0kFNXRLiCjCQDcl276cN15pKurGdlhec5Ig0VstyNrb4MEy_UWOROd6eTraEUbJg6vmLACfUAH1LCsNy40ZQ/s1600/5+southern+point+coast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfA8qqv9jhgrYfKvpu78JAQVxl-ovmecKwi43vO6J7ElSSf0KnhIzK5ET0kFNXRLiCjCQDcl276cN15pKurGdlhec5Ig0VstyNrb4MEy_UWOROd6eTraEUbJg6vmLACfUAH1LCsNy40ZQ/s400/5+southern+point+coast.jpg" width="337" /></a><br />
And what can you see from the monument that stands at the southernmost point of Taiwan? If you are a big fan of algae, rocks, and beach sand then you're in for a treat. If bars, amusement parks, and coffee shops are more your thing then you probably wouldn't hang around here for very long.<br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-VoVANHIn66_TEb_m6jNb6IP0U4oywNKA-UobVHWBcF9GjjhVaFlqy6VdZPA1oRi9Wz5OOM-XvpAVoAYSvfD1bMv6QtOQON5aN0svv1rcVkJ9fuZ4SrfhHTn98m8CE_i8yVtE8hecIzk/s1600/6+weather+station.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-VoVANHIn66_TEb_m6jNb6IP0U4oywNKA-UobVHWBcF9GjjhVaFlqy6VdZPA1oRi9Wz5OOM-XvpAVoAYSvfD1bMv6QtOQON5aN0svv1rcVkJ9fuZ4SrfhHTn98m8CE_i8yVtE8hecIzk/s400/6+weather+station.jpg" width="400" /></a></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">As you cycle back up to the main road you pass this place. It twigged some vague sense of familiarity when I saw it but it wasn't until much later, after we returned home, that I saw it on the Central Weather Bureau web site up in the top-left corner. It's some kind of weather station. That big green thing also makes land-marking much easier on Google Earth.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih_PRxh87O8erxnRNFszFhOUZZ4tS1Usv3pNPyFmQwwylkBxMjEBku5-z1l9CMIWwcj1uQ1WREyyJRqBNQg28MXN2xyEurypQbcRRuZvAXrZdnZ9rpwj87G9SO1v66TPVV5-npwI5QSgU/s1600/7+graveyard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih_PRxh87O8erxnRNFszFhOUZZ4tS1Usv3pNPyFmQwwylkBxMjEBku5-z1l9CMIWwcj1uQ1WREyyJRqBNQg28MXN2xyEurypQbcRRuZvAXrZdnZ9rpwj87G9SO1v66TPVV5-npwI5QSgU/s400/7+graveyard.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just around the corner on the main road is this cemetery from where the top of the Eluanbi Lighthouse may be seen.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ikpu32eJsz2IUD9MZnkKwN2aLoaU_Giv1ILZO7VZAQz9ECPDk3TXSiXyOd5P811bThHUZUXQkB0uQWDw-Hh13TFv0jRU3neaUhMq4gA03QwBoO4Wft5Kmgg-beTUjHS0ZMMr3XnUhKM/s1600/8+longpan+map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ikpu32eJsz2IUD9MZnkKwN2aLoaU_Giv1ILZO7VZAQz9ECPDk3TXSiXyOd5P811bThHUZUXQkB0uQWDw-Hh13TFv0jRU3neaUhMq4gA03QwBoO4Wft5Kmgg-beTUjHS0ZMMr3XnUhKM/s400/8+longpan+map.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
Around the cape along the main road you come to Longpan Park. There's not a lot here apart from some stunning views and beautiful scenery. And that's enough...<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYhX-cfWljWZCdOhzr00gneYmHBt0gPuMGmftgnSiWN2sO0HZy2ExGfHEG0IrY0rjZrg-v9PxVnVGyheE9sjkxE3wqaiPH_D5gMEj3wtVZkSaDAPFX26EnLNq66tQEn-E3O5l3dbBMhu4/s1600/9+longpan+shot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYhX-cfWljWZCdOhzr00gneYmHBt0gPuMGmftgnSiWN2sO0HZy2ExGfHEG0IrY0rjZrg-v9PxVnVGyheE9sjkxE3wqaiPH_D5gMEj3wtVZkSaDAPFX26EnLNq66tQEn-E3O5l3dbBMhu4/s400/9+longpan+shot.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
Rocks, grass, dirt, and opportunities for taking some great photos. Damn, that is a great photo.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWRlKLGMoFLVE4e3Y-zNZ5UJDSsX2bOEqp0RE913pVA9D9jazClAduZsaEVMKFcPfyfgY0zBbynShcRBDzagq8rFm7cbXUGLtUuvHRVEPpk24sANC7KxMy6VqtKOU6tkkIuH57J_S2x0A/s1600/9-5+town+in+bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWRlKLGMoFLVE4e3Y-zNZ5UJDSsX2bOEqp0RE913pVA9D9jazClAduZsaEVMKFcPfyfgY0zBbynShcRBDzagq8rFm7cbXUGLtUuvHRVEPpk24sANC7KxMy6VqtKOU6tkkIuH57J_S2x0A/s400/9-5+town+in+bay.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> More stunning seaside scenery. A small settlement in the distance stands out whitely and brightly in the clear light.<br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMJU-UO-5vNEOvrNFBIXXG-xQMv8Revvg_Xlyb8iV82w7e-Khjmk3nsQERMTuKRfVJfVgPq-CnUKNdlNlbPiu6hrlQd7PiNJXOs9hyVd6oI34h3iEM3hXRXIeHvfBt9j8_NMEw_g1ksV4/s1600/10+breakfast+shop+And+John.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMJU-UO-5vNEOvrNFBIXXG-xQMv8Revvg_Xlyb8iV82w7e-Khjmk3nsQERMTuKRfVJfVgPq-CnUKNdlNlbPiu6hrlQd7PiNJXOs9hyVd6oI34h3iEM3hXRXIeHvfBt9j8_NMEw_g1ksV4/s400/10+breakfast+shop+And+John.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
At about 8:45 we arrived at the small town of Manjhou where we sat ourselves down at the local Beautiful Breakfast eatery and completed stage two of our morning repast, fueling us for the long day of cycling that still lay ahead. <br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPuaH5MJ8wRPx54mVkbSzA9AoncQTKi2LKYGHZMgfcpPt8F2BqfmJhbCeD62Up2It_zCGV5cp1v1XAJtW7MpzG_ZiUNvBvfF0eyoFhDnLWa6FWbUUFS4_Z_uDP8FSr9XJI6KGIcGZw638/s1600/11+breakfast+shop+scene.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPuaH5MJ8wRPx54mVkbSzA9AoncQTKi2LKYGHZMgfcpPt8F2BqfmJhbCeD62Up2It_zCGV5cp1v1XAJtW7MpzG_ZiUNvBvfF0eyoFhDnLWa6FWbUUFS4_Z_uDP8FSr9XJI6KGIcGZw638/s400/11+breakfast+shop+scene.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
A wonderful shot that epitomizes small-town-Taiwan takeaway breakfast. <br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRsn5Ta0Qsh5QupGAySll0AJ2TIWBeXjbyO9YLwABnLOVFukuImwk2hnlXgm-jbx5iPQGgR7CESamkqZuODKdp3LnSfZGxuDz3Ko4gMpJcEJoqqw1sGNUDMSvQTFR9zUkRdYwpHM440QA/s1600/12+mountains+valley+panorama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="102" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRsn5Ta0Qsh5QupGAySll0AJ2TIWBeXjbyO9YLwABnLOVFukuImwk2hnlXgm-jbx5iPQGgR7CESamkqZuODKdp3LnSfZGxuDz3Ko4gMpJcEJoqqw1sGNUDMSvQTFR9zUkRdYwpHM440QA/s400/12+mountains+valley+panorama.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
A panorama of one side of a valley the no.200 enters after Manjhou.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaWgbscxa-yfJl3zxBdm0EkXH5syKKClpOH_j9Hx5yX5h5Mm0g44Ik5XB39CULU9Y0nCIM89a0Y2SIzOw_LwPczLUcOOuX0s_WDQH9zDQrWDIACF3wuO_8fGyb_ElU_-enOtGrnXQ5nMY/s1600/13+no+road+here.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaWgbscxa-yfJl3zxBdm0EkXH5syKKClpOH_j9Hx5yX5h5Mm0g44Ik5XB39CULU9Y0nCIM89a0Y2SIzOw_LwPczLUcOOuX0s_WDQH9zDQrWDIACF3wuO_8fGyb_ElU_-enOtGrnXQ5nMY/s400/13+no+road+here.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
We detoured off the 200 intending to follow the road that would take us through the Jiupeng Desert. After passing through what seemed like a very quiet stretch of narrow road, anxiously avoiding the oxen grazing untethered on and next to the road, we discovered that the road no longer runs to the Jiupeng Desert, having been cut off by a water-course. However, if you examine the area on Google Maps, you can see the shadow of the road as it used to be, continuing on the other side of the washout.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiSgQwfekKnJBpDfRnTD6FeyqbCK__BIzWtaR8wbiOeyHAd3kouqEnJzW_Eg8ayMtxfFPl58Xs5EMVasqMQu5Grj09jfDYEqHbCa1TX6C4F_YPu5SJt5EsiBkVkAUUhipscdjTJWn8f_I/s1600/14+cafe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiSgQwfekKnJBpDfRnTD6FeyqbCK__BIzWtaR8wbiOeyHAd3kouqEnJzW_Eg8ayMtxfFPl58Xs5EMVasqMQu5Grj09jfDYEqHbCa1TX6C4F_YPu5SJt5EsiBkVkAUUhipscdjTJWn8f_I/s400/14+cafe.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
At about 2:30 in the afternoon we came upon the small village of Syuhai and discovered that some enterprising people had set up a cafe with a menu containing lots of the kind of food that we like to eat. We stuffed ourselves and then relaxed, taking in the laid back charm of Taiwanese rural life while some local men killed a huge pig trussed up on a pole. The pig did not go quietly. We did.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMxjh8Cer0D33Hp43djn3oDSlAVhlXZXXG7FmY12P07_y4fbKJQAHhAs2eS14J3tTBTF2KcQNUHQpaelSxObHiDwEvn2Gafy3iS34MhGmczU2FT0dEYXliiGpiHoXhanm2vVX866jU5CM/s1600/15-5+lizard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMxjh8Cer0D33Hp43djn3oDSlAVhlXZXXG7FmY12P07_y4fbKJQAHhAs2eS14J3tTBTF2KcQNUHQpaelSxObHiDwEvn2Gafy3iS34MhGmczU2FT0dEYXliiGpiHoXhanm2vVX866jU5CM/s640/15-5+lizard.jpg" width="346" /></a><br />
Local fauna on the 199.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBa7TshP_XfVruIp-Ms6lhN6F23E64IL2JoRab3IqJc0zInFyLwcdB_EdZvZDn-Q7W7MgRaN72Rezl6UdPgc8_B1qTNg9NDPNY62tD8N2FNJ6LH23aLdWbkdS210Zxo5Thwc7Cfd4qsaw/s1600/15+faces.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBa7TshP_XfVruIp-Ms6lhN6F23E64IL2JoRab3IqJc0zInFyLwcdB_EdZvZDn-Q7W7MgRaN72Rezl6UdPgc8_B1qTNg9NDPNY62tD8N2FNJ6LH23aLdWbkdS210Zxo5Thwc7Cfd4qsaw/s400/15+faces.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
On the 199 in the mid-afternoon sun. We posed for a group shot.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJx_DgWmi9GqIaIbi1IfOdSz7JlJ2Fz-oHUV2-Arb328g6ysSnuB_znUvNclI8yUYBcWNNB-Uj6wFlEQ-AwQFwRNKIswn90yUAjQ60JBhL4tZR5wi-PubbJssIzwPD3evlZ7KvoUZsxts/s1600/16+end+of+the+199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJx_DgWmi9GqIaIbi1IfOdSz7JlJ2Fz-oHUV2-Arb328g6ysSnuB_znUvNclI8yUYBcWNNB-Uj6wFlEQ-AwQFwRNKIswn90yUAjQ60JBhL4tZR5wi-PubbJssIzwPD3evlZ7KvoUZsxts/s400/16+end+of+the+199.jpg" width="372" /></a><br />
At the junction of county road no.199 and provincial highway no.9 at the border of Taidong County. For some reason people regard this junction as rather significant; it was covered all over with the signatures and scrawls of many a passerby. I guess it is the official start of the 199 that runs from here at Shouka to Checheng on the west coast.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYZ1HvgXtEcIVSZ2ASVD_J2AJNNThWNZ8h3F-addSAYhLBy5IM10fIqOXVKnFLArKToWrbAVIFakMFXy5T47pizFHVlaG0E8Waq9cxIjCXGzzKQFswtUcnACCwv2_Hz3PfFhBii7eEEs/s1600/17+rest+area.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYZ1HvgXtEcIVSZ2ASVD_J2AJNNThWNZ8h3F-addSAYhLBy5IM10fIqOXVKnFLArKToWrbAVIFakMFXy5T47pizFHVlaG0E8Waq9cxIjCXGzzKQFswtUcnACCwv2_Hz3PfFhBii7eEEs/s400/17+rest+area.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
Very close by the junction there is a wall that begs for posers. Luckily we brought a couple along.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8naHLM3AsRbLmgfX2NRVxBmFbP_7QV1kWl1BV34D8EKHjvODj98x82xU82NuYhnT3OBm12AXjxLj2auoDULRmxS6X7B1HY_2NqPJ4C_AbFDTGz9Yffs71CXIKYSsTIhuArkpjdAmYAo/s1600/18+moths+on+pole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8naHLM3AsRbLmgfX2NRVxBmFbP_7QV1kWl1BV34D8EKHjvODj98x82xU82NuYhnT3OBm12AXjxLj2auoDULRmxS6X7B1HY_2NqPJ4C_AbFDTGz9Yffs71CXIKYSsTIhuArkpjdAmYAo/s640/18+moths+on+pole.jpg" width="388" /></a><br />
More local fauna; this time, some kind of moth. We found them clinging to the pole under the distance marker.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDOyBGP5xH0uare4wnKjytUJMNpZxkpEiMwh2iibFEL_3_mCwH7I_9XXWjiJlI3IYjcJztWMpwKNMBoi4qT6RcQfd9JI_wGoefz4UuwDfPX6cxu9z3QC1M4qCL5dPXMnJ232Hw2sxopL4/s1600/19+dinner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDOyBGP5xH0uare4wnKjytUJMNpZxkpEiMwh2iibFEL_3_mCwH7I_9XXWjiJlI3IYjcJztWMpwKNMBoi4qT6RcQfd9JI_wGoefz4UuwDfPX6cxu9z3QC1M4qCL5dPXMnJ232Hw2sxopL4/s400/19+dinner.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
A fine feast in Dawu.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>__________________________________________</b><br />
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</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>End of day 3:</b> February 11. </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Location:</b> Dawu Township (大武鄉), Taidong County (台東縣). </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Distance on my electronic odometer:</b> 284km. </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Accommodation:</b> a homestay (more like a hotel) next to the 7-11 on the main highway running through town; NT$400 pp. </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Remarks:</b> We arrived in Dawu (and the coast) after flying downhill from Shouka, covering about 10km very quickly. Tried to find a place to set up our tents but to no avail.<br />
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</span></div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-77056172237011796822010-06-15T07:43:00.002+08:002010-06-16T12:07:40.663+08:00Cycling around Taiwan: Day 4: Dawu to Taidong<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Start day 4:</b> February 12. </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Location:</b> Dawu Township (大武鄉), Taidong County (台東縣). </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Remarks:</b> In the morning we looked outside to discover that the blue skies had been replaced with heavy cloud-cover. We started cycling at about 8am. A kilometre from the homestay I put on my cheap plastic raincoat but it turned me into a sail and slowed me to a crawl. With some difficulty I took it off again and we persevered into the headwind.<br />
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</span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHii_XxUYSjNCa12YywxlHpEOqQhN_arIL-kDaQyUhNg_yuMH8vcdbTwIxT3L8RDk-Bc9r0YlBVuGfH1zSH8SJu5pA4DvAEW6t9n-Q3pmkqqYVujt-2OqUCWJniCdlkQMrm4U3oTDeNNQ/s1600/1+overcast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHii_XxUYSjNCa12YywxlHpEOqQhN_arIL-kDaQyUhNg_yuMH8vcdbTwIxT3L8RDk-Bc9r0YlBVuGfH1zSH8SJu5pA4DvAEW6t9n-Q3pmkqqYVujt-2OqUCWJniCdlkQMrm4U3oTDeNNQ/s400/1+overcast.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
</span><span style="font-size: small;">Overcast skies, a big road, and a beach made of grey rocks lined with rows of tetrapod concrete wavebreakers. </span><span style="font-size: small;">Not a great example of the beauty of the east coast. Still, that blue ocean and those adjacent mountains offer a lot of promise.<br />
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This water course is covered with a swathe of material deposited by Typhoon Morakot in August of 2009. <br />
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A view from the same spot, looking in the other direction towards the ocean. Note that the house seems to have been ripped from its base and the top half with torn walls ended up in this spot. That truck in the photo seems to have been involved in some of the construction and repair work going on in the area.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Down the road we stopped in the little town of Jinlan for our second-breakfast consisting of bananas, apples, 7-Eleven coffees and dan-bings (omelets). Although John ordered the two dan-bings at the same time we soon received one dan bing and one toasted egg sandwich. The mind boggles. Anytime you order more than one of anything at the same time your chances of not getting what you asked for increase exponentially. Actually the increase is not exponential but I threw the word in there because it sounds good.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">We were greeting and being greeted by a lot of other cyclists who we saw on the road and generally getting into the spirit of cycle-touring. Some guy in a black sedan passed by us, swerved off the road in front of us, stopped his car, wound down his window, and pumped his fist in the air shouting, "Go go go!" as we passed by. He was certainly getting into the groove. We were sometimes getting shouts of encouragement from other motorists but the sudden loud noises coming from cars passing close by us tended to startle us more than encourage us.<br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYPu4npGnFRtN4H_80owA4fbDVsrsFp3l-NNJ5TntFpyN2u8ZNsm6nokALMZS2npP59hTapK7Be6y8FT-BaODHwuEUQT-lWGsPI6VI6B-HMY4FjAObeWu1es-BznO8oZgiJRvTFkX6DDA/s1600/1-7+John+and+sweet+sop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYPu4npGnFRtN4H_80owA4fbDVsrsFp3l-NNJ5TntFpyN2u8ZNsm6nokALMZS2npP59hTapK7Be6y8FT-BaODHwuEUQT-lWGsPI6VI6B-HMY4FjAObeWu1es-BznO8oZgiJRvTFkX6DDA/s400/1-7+John+and+sweet+sop.jpg" width="363" /></a><br />
Further down the road we stopped in a small town to sample the delights of the local specialty: the <i>sweet sop</i> (or sugar apple or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sugar-apple">Annona Squamosa</a>). Andrea and I had never tried them before despite having had plenty of opportunity. And when we did try them here we wondered why we never had before. <br />
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It's really good.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">After investing a substantial amount of time in resetting the balance of his digestive system in a gas-station bathroom John caught up with us for the ride into Taidong. Actually getting to Taidong City seemed to drag on and on while the wind blew hard against us and blew a light rain into our faces. The day seemed more grey and dull than when we had started out in the morning and so did the road. When we finally, inevitably made it to the city we plonked ourselves down on a bench at a 7-Eleven, a little dispirited, and rested while we decided what to do next. We ended up moving a short way down the street to the Madina Indian Restaurant where our spirits were buoyed by some rich cuisine while several Indian men tried to wrestle a large industrial refrigerator through a doorway at the rear of the premises. The doorway proved to be only very slightly too small and they set about removing the frame and the door itself.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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Downtown Taidong. We checked into a hotel we had used before on our east coast trip and then spent a while recovering. In the evening we went for a walk and a meal.<br />
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A beautiful photo of Andrea transacting with a fruit vendor on Taidong's famous Fruit Street.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>______________________________________________</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>End of day 4:</b> February 12. </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Location:</b> Taidong City (台東市), Taidong County (台東縣). </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Distance on my electronic odometer:</b> 344km. </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Accommodation:</b> a cheap hotel on the edge of the downtown core of Taidong. </span> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>Remarks:</b> The wind blew hard against us as we pedalled along the seemingly endless, dull road into Taidong. For the first time on the trip it rained on us, albeit, very lightly. Got into town and plopped down outside a 7-11 at about 2pm. After lunch at an Indian restaurant we cycled to a hotel we had stayed in on a previous trip down the east coast. Later that evening we enjoyed a walk along 'fruit street'.<br />
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</span></div>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131790286181196947.post-4722821810987838732010-06-15T07:42:00.000+08:002010-06-16T11:43:03.656+08:00Cycling around Taiwan: Day 5: Taidong to Guangfu<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Start day 5:</b> February 13. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Location:</b> Taidong City (台東市), Taidong County (台東縣). </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Remarks:</b> Awoke at 4:45; had breakfast in hotel room including fruit that we picked up on our walk along fruit street the night before; started cycling just after 6am. We were blessed with a beautiful clear blue sky and crisp clean air without any noticeable breeze. However, it was very cold and after leaving the hotel in only my light cycling shirt, I was soon forced to wear my second shirt over the top. Slightly further down the road I pulled on my fleecy top and wore my towel around my neck to keep it warm. </span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicrDsKCUuYsawVOQdm0XD467143TIJ7GKY4UhwYg_Y6RTv3XdcbYSvBTEifTn3qPFevpTe-CUnfIGviW3C7eg6qKNJbBP_f7F-iyy2JeIl5baVhL-X-OIiWhL532B4W5MBDNGs6-v63ro/s1600/3+mountains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicrDsKCUuYsawVOQdm0XD467143TIJ7GKY4UhwYg_Y6RTv3XdcbYSvBTEifTn3qPFevpTe-CUnfIGviW3C7eg6qKNJbBP_f7F-iyy2JeIl5baVhL-X-OIiWhL532B4W5MBDNGs6-v63ro/s400/3+mountains.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
Coming around this corner we thought for a moment that we were looking at a cloud bank in the distance. The sight of these mountains suspended in the clouds reminds me of legends of special places that exist in the clouds; a nephological kingdom in the sky.<br />
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A panorama of the same phenomenon without the trees to frame the sight.<br />
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The effect is hard to capture in a photograph but we tried. A lot.<br />
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There were a lot of corn/sugar-cane stalls by the side of this particular stretch of highway and so we decided to try some. The corn we got (common in Taiwan) is pale yellow, not "sweet" corn, and cooked by boiling in water with a little salt added. It's quite good. The sugar cane is expertly stripped of its grassy skin leaving you, the consumer, with a crispy, fibrous stick of sweet, sticky fibrousness. You bite a piece off, chew the goodness out of it, and then spit out the fibrous residue.<br />
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We got our corn and cane from this stall but when we pulled up it was being manned by a Vietnamese lady who gave us each a stick of cane for free when we bought the corn. As soon as our transaction was over she disappeared, leaving her diminutive son on watch.<br />
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East Rift Valley panorama.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj6f8NJvh6aR5g0MBTUINLTx0pZu-om1nKrZAMWlH-Lf8dFsgzfhiZHTMWKOSN8NAxL22KSKn6-C9yrnCsDr5iHUl_3LtIBtCj31Z6F98TaWITps-KhmR-bL761xanh1bJ3jx3xBESx0k/s1600/8+flower+field.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj6f8NJvh6aR5g0MBTUINLTx0pZu-om1nKrZAMWlH-Lf8dFsgzfhiZHTMWKOSN8NAxL22KSKn6-C9yrnCsDr5iHUl_3LtIBtCj31Z6F98TaWITps-KhmR-bL761xanh1bJ3jx3xBESx0k/s400/8+flower+field.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
Fields of flowers in the East Rift Valley. Heavy clouds struggle to pull themselves up over the hills.<br />
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Sowing a rice paddy the modern way.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5w_G_eOYYsB-sp5Tfb13vnkyGTUwONTm4S8sGx_A_p9LRQo_Rlm14WLvLZVfM9gKA-5XhYmEYj6vd8PjUV5Dkxf57qqlpWwU7Aan-MJvZt9FPhKzMqvsUJ_nPpWGfrH4b_RFWUMlv2BQ/s1600/10+restrooms.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5w_G_eOYYsB-sp5Tfb13vnkyGTUwONTm4S8sGx_A_p9LRQo_Rlm14WLvLZVfM9gKA-5XhYmEYj6vd8PjUV5Dkxf57qqlpWwU7Aan-MJvZt9FPhKzMqvsUJ_nPpWGfrH4b_RFWUMlv2BQ/s400/10+restrooms.jpg" width="365" /></a><br />
One of our many gas-station bathroom stops. This one was situated in isolation surrounded by some nice scenery. I will use it to illustrate the difference that a nice vista makes to a restroom stop:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9X_QrbYBcKcMek-M2UiujuMre9bC6G6RM1uvxWemKWqaoH6a3npjvf11XGae-qtkng20x6AMpBPcXpXDkNxnObbIY2719WNovkDlnocpDLPMl2ug8VJdO6QwMl6ZQF_-8JrPgJExMIyU/s1600/11+women%27s+rr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9X_QrbYBcKcMek-M2UiujuMre9bC6G6RM1uvxWemKWqaoH6a3npjvf11XGae-qtkng20x6AMpBPcXpXDkNxnObbIY2719WNovkDlnocpDLPMl2ug8VJdO6QwMl6ZQF_-8JrPgJExMIyU/s400/11+women%27s+rr.jpg" width="365" /></a><br />
The female toilet cubicles: dark, claustrophobic, and poorly ventilated.<br />
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The male urinals: light, airy, and offering a window on a pleasant scene of farmlands, mountains, and clouds, enhancing the act of evacuation and making urination while standing a positive tourism experience. </span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLeDA-fPF-ki4ozGysHRx_I-FM_C8f83tLVHAXek6u_djOzQlz_lB2TT_qXUWGZrN0Ef9iU6HliOvqMb8TRd0MBCUDlqdTDopfkB8ZAzkkVEibgPcfpftletjs41HOU6grGd8iqsEj5OA/s1600/12-5+mountains+and+paddie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLeDA-fPF-ki4ozGysHRx_I-FM_C8f83tLVHAXek6u_djOzQlz_lB2TT_qXUWGZrN0Ef9iU6HliOvqMb8TRd0MBCUDlqdTDopfkB8ZAzkkVEibgPcfpftletjs41HOU6grGd8iqsEj5OA/s400/12-5+mountains+and+paddie.jpg" width="267" /></a><br />
More rice paddies, mountains, and clouds.<br />
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At one of the many great police station rest stops along the way, these three gentlemen obliged us by posing for a photo.<br />
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A very quick stop for a photo op at the Tropic of Cancer Marker on the no.9 highway in the East Coast Rift Valley.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Somewhere between Fuyuan and Guangfu we stopped at another police station to ask about cheap accommodation or a camp site. We were informed that ten minutes back down the road we had just come up we could stay at the local fire station for $300 per person but that we might have our sleep disturbed if there was some kind of call-out. The sun had already set and John was experiencing severe gastro-intestinal discomfort (those two statements are in no way related) and just needed to get to a hotel. We decided against going back and chose to continue instead to the town or Guangfu where we were sure to find a cheap hotel. When we did get to Guangfu, the first couple of hotels we investigated were definitely not cheap. It was Chinese New Year's eve after all and hotel rooms all around the country were, by now, renting at premium rates. We managed to find a cheaper hotel around the corner and John monopolized the bathroom as soon as we were booked in.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Later on, Andrea and I went for a walk to get a few provisions for our hotel room breakfast in the morning. Along the way we saw families and friends shutting up shop, getting their barbecues out and their fireworks ready, preparing to celebrate the arrival of the new year. In the local bakery some very excited children showed us their Hong-Baos (red envelopes) containing their gift-money. The new year would be the year of the tiger. However, for us tonight would be the night of the bear: we hibernated, exhausted, as the magical nocturnal season of whizzing, banging, and cracking fireworks passed by overnight.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>__________________________________________</b></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>End of day 5:</b> February 13. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Location:</b> Guangfu Township (光復鄉), Hualien County (光復縣). </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Distance on my electronic odometer:</b> 474km. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Accommodation:</b> a cheap homestay/hotel on the southern edge of Guangfu. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Remarks:</b> After a beautiful day spent riding through the beautiful scenery of the east coast inlands on the no.9 provincial highway we were still going after dark. Somewhere between Fuyuan and Guangfu we stopped at a police station to enquire about camping. They told us that we could stay at the Fire Station in Fuyuan for NT$300 pp. However that was some way behind us and John was experiencing intense gastrointestinal discomfort so we made for the closer township of Guangfu which lay ahead. After rejecting a couple of hotels for being too expensive we chose a homestay with rooms above a breakfast restaurant/convenience store. We were so tired we slept through most of the Chinese New Year fireworks.</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span>Adrian Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03225392820831284419noreply@blogger.com0