台灣旅遊

Chiayi Train Station (嘉義驛)

Chiayi, is one of those special places in Taiwan that everybody just seems to love. Sure, it often gets overshadowed by its neighbor to the south, Tainan, but similar to Tainan, Chiayi is home to a plethora of historic places to visit, and is home to some of Taiwan’s most well-loved dishes. One of the other similarities that the two cities share, however, is that in recent years, the younger generation, most of whom migrated north to Taipei (or elsewhere) for better opportunities have returned, and they’ve brought with them a really cool hipster vibe that both cities have been more than happy to cash in on, bringing about exponential increases in domestic tourists.

Sometimes when these things happen, its just a stroke of luck, but in Chiayi’s case, I’d argue that it was also excellent timing. The young people from the area saw what was taking place in Tainan, with all of the restaurants and coffee shops opening up there, and thought, why can’t the same thing be done at home in Chiayi? Fortunately, when they returned, they also found themselves with a very willing partner in the local city government, which had invested considerably in the city’s historic properties, making them tourist-friendly, as well as improving the city’s public transportation infrastructure, which makes it even easier for people from all over the country to visit.

When Netflix’s “Street Food: Asia” series was released, to the surprise of no one, cities that are traditionally known for their food scenes, such as Bangkok, Osaka, Delhi, Seoul and Singapore were featured. Amazingly, though, both Taipei and Tainan, which usually hog all the limelight, were skipped, and the series featured a heartwarming story about Chiayi, its street food scene, and a special focus on how the younger generation returned and helped to bring the city back to life. For a lot of people, Chiayi was always just the gateway to the spectacularly beautiful Alishan National Forest Recreation Area, but thanks to the Netflix series, and the contributions of the local government and young entrepreneurs, the city currently provides visitors with a lot more incentive to stick around for a while.

Throughout all of the changes that have taken place in Chiayi in recent years, one of the things that has remained constant, at least for the past century or so, is the means by which most visitors arrive in the city. The city just so happens to be home to one of the few of Taiwan’s major Japanese-era railway stations that remains in operation today. The station, which is absolutely beautiful, is one of the city’s most iconic buildings, and whenever you see an image promoting Chiayi, the station is likely to feature prominently as it so well-known and well-loved.

Suffice to say, if you’ve been following the articles published on this blog over the past few years, you’re likely well-aware that the railway is an incredibly important aspect of everyday life in Taiwan, and has been instrumental in fueling the nation’s rapid development. However, as the country around it has developed, the railway has also had to constantly evolve to meet the needs of the ever-changing population. Sadly, the modernization of the railway has meant that most of the other major Japanese-era stations in Keelung, Taipei, Changhua, Kaohsiung and Pingtung have succumbed to the changing environment, while only the stations in Hsinchu, Chiayi and Tainan remain in operation.

But for how much longer is the real question.

Link: Taiwan’s Remaining Japanese-era Train Stations (台鐵現存日治時期車站)

Fortunately, we’ve entered a period in Taiwan’s national development where citizens actively pay a lot more attention to the preservation of the nation’s heritage buildings, so local governments, in partnership with the national government are held accountable in ensuring that public funding is made available for both their protection and preservation. Thus, when it came time for the historic Taichung Railway Station to be phased out of service, the local government preserved the station and created an absolutely beautiful railway culture park next to the new station, which has become an incredibly popular tourist attraction within the heart of the city.

Link: Taichung Train Station (臺中驛)

While Chiayi’s historic station remains in operation today, that situation is ultimately going to change as the railway within the city is going to go through the same type of modernization as has taken place in Taichung, which will help to ensure faster and more efficient travel times for passengers. When that happens, you can be sure that when this station is phased out, plans will be made to mirror the success of Taichung’s Railway Culture Park, with efforts already underway to coordinate the future park to include the Alishan Forest Railway Garage Park (阿里山森林鐵路車庫園區) and Beimen Station (北門車站), which will make for one of Taiwan’s largest railway culture parks.

Today, though, I’m going to introduce Chiayi Station as it is now, introducing you to its history, and its architectural design so that you can better understand this significant piece of Taiwan’s history.

Kagi Station (嘉義驛/かぎえき)

To introduce the history of the railway station, I’ll have to start by offering a bit of a backstory of events leading up to the arrival of the Japanese in Taiwan, and the development of the railway, which ushered in an era of modernity, development, and economic opportunity. The railroad not only offered the people of Taiwan with a means of public transportation, but allowed for the transport of goods and services allowing for a level of connectivity that the residents of Taiwan had yet to experience. While there were obvious benefits for the residents of the island, the railroad also became an instrumental tool that helped to fuel the fledgling empire’s goal of extracting the island’s precious natural resources, and there are few places in Taiwan where that was more evident than in Chiayi.

The history of the railway in Taiwan dates back as early as 1891 (光緒17年), just a few short years prior to the Japanese take over of the island. The railway project turned out to be one of the most ambitious development projects undertaken by the Qing government, under the leadership of then governor, Liu Mingchuan (劉銘傳). The Qing-era railway stretched from the port city of Keelung (基隆) to Hsinchu (新竹), but even though the project was led by foreign engineers, the final result turned out to be rather rudimentary, and ultimately came at far too high of a cost for the Qing to continue financing. Given that the Qing never particularly cared very much about developing the island, the high cost of the construction of the railway, and the fact that they were also preoccupied with war (and revolution), the project wasn’t particularly a serious one.

The Qing Dynasty was established during a period when China’s previous rulers had become far too weak to contend with the constant rebellions and civil disorder that were erupting around the country. Then, a hundred years later, in what may seem like a case of history repeating itself, by the late 1800s, Qing rule had similarly become incompetent, and corruption was rife throughout the country. The corruption that was prevalent throughout China’s bureaucracy not only prevented the Qing from modernizing its military, but also resulted in some diplomatic missteps that ultimately led to war with Japan, which itself was going through its Meiji Revolution (明治維新), and was in the process of transforming itself into a major military power. That war, known today as the first ‘Sino-Japanese War’ (1894-1895), ended about as quickly as it began, resulting in considerable embarrassment for the Qing rulers, who were completely unprepared to wage war against a much better, modern equipped Japanese military.

The war ultimately shifted the balance of power in Asia from China to Japan, and ultimately became the catalyst for revolution in China, which would within a little over a decade bring imperial rule to an end. Unable to compete with might of the Japanese military, the Qing elected to negotiate for peace, just a little more than six months into the war, formally ending with the signing of the Treaty of Shimonoseki (下関条約). Most notably, the key stipulations of the treaty were that China would be forced to recognize the independence of Korea (which until that time had been a tributary state), and that Taiwan and the Penghu Islands would be ceded to Japan, in addition to paying reparations that amounted to 8,000,000 kilograms of silver.

Shortly thereafter, the Japanese set sail for Taiwan, landing in Keelung on May 29th, 1895. Upon arrival, Japanese forces were met with fierce resistance from the remnants of the Qing forces stationed on the island, local Hakka militias, as well as indigenous groups. Over the next five months, the Japanese made their way south fighting a guerrilla war that ‘officially’ came to an end with the fall of Tainan in October. That being said, even though the military had more or less taken control of Taiwan’s major towns, the insurgency against their rule lasted for quite a while longer, resulting in some brutal massacres against the people of Taiwan. Nevertheless, similar to the war with China, the superiority of the modern Japanese military easily dispatched the local armies. The campaign to take control of Taiwan, however, taught the Japanese a hard, yet valuable lesson, as figures show that over ninety-percent of the Japanese military deaths during those first few months were mostly due to complications related to Cholera, Dengue Fever, and Malaria.

Link: Disease and Mortality in the History of Taiwan (Ts'ui-jung Liu and Shi-yung Liu)

History has shown that for the majority of time that the Qing controlled Taiwan, they were mostly uninterested in the island referring to it as a "ball of mud beyond the sea" which added "nothing to the breadth of China" (海外泥丸,不足為中國加廣). The hostile environment on the island was likely one of the reasons why they were so ambivalent about doing much during their time here, but that probably wasn’t something they were actively reminding the Japanese about prior to their arrival. Learning this the hard way, the Japanese were intent on addressing these issues, which had plagued Taiwan for much of its modern history, especially since they were invested in extracting the island’s vast treasure trove of natural resources.

To accomplish that mission, they would first have to put in place the necessary infrastructure for combating these diseases.

In Actuality, it would take several years for the Japanese to fully take control of Taiwan, and their losses were quite heavy, however, it would be the people of Taiwan who suffered the most, especially with the heavy-handed tactics that the Japanese took to suppress dissent to their rule. That being said, when the dust of war settled and the island started to develop, living standards on the island in turn started to improve, and the frequency of rebellions decreased.

For the Chiayi area, one of the major turning points in the city’s history came in 1906 when the Meishan Earthquake (梅山地震), the third deadliest earthquake in Taiwan’s history reduced the town to rubble. In response, the government quickly dispatched military and medical personnel to the area to assist in recovery efforts. As a major economic center for agriculture, timber and sugar, and Taiwan’s fourth-most populated town at the time, the colonial government placed a considerable amount of attention on the urban development of the city, and the response of the Japanese authorities to the earthquake in regard to both their humanitarian efforts and the reconstruction of the town was something that brought people together in a way that after a decade of violence, many people would have imagined unlikely. The earthquake may have devastated the city, but despite all the suffering and destruction it caused, it also brought with it opportunity, as reconstruction allowed the government to alter the town’s urban planning structure and developed it at such a rapid pace, that it started to flourish as it never had before.

An elderly couple enjoying the famed railway bento while waiting for the train!

Note: Let me take a minute to explain the terms I’ll using here for the town, and the station, so that you don’t get too confused. The area we refer to today as “Chiayi” (嘉義) was originally known either as ‘Tsulosan’ or ‘Tirosen' (諸羅山) in the local indigenous language, and slowly started being settled by Hokkien immigrants from Fujian during the Qing Dynasty. As I referred to earlier, the Qing, though, weren’t all that interested in Taiwan, and in addition to the pejorative phrase used to describe Taiwan above, they also had another saying about Taiwan, that translated literally was "every three years an uprising; every five years a rebellion" (三年一反、五年一亂), referring to the constant civil strife in Taiwan with regard to their governance, or lack thereof.

One of the most well-known of those uprisings was the ‘Lin Shuangwen Rebellion’ (林爽文事件) in 1786, which ended up being one of the more successful attempts at ridding Taiwan of Qing influence. It was during this time that the residents of Tsulosan banded together and fought bravely to defend their town from Lin’s militia, and when the rebellion finally came to an end, Emperor Qianlong (乾隆皇帝) rewarded the people of the town by changing its name from the original indigenous name, to “Chiayi” (嘉義), which pronounced in Hokkien as “Kagi”, and is literally translated as “Commended Righteousness.”

When the Japanese arrived in Taiwan, the name of the town was one of the few that didn’t have to be changed, because the Hokkien pronunciation and the Japanese pronunciation were exactly the same. So, the area was more or less referred to as “Kagi” (嘉義 / かぎし) from 1787 to the late 1940s when it was officially changed to its Mandarin pronunciation of “Chiayi,” although most of the area’s residents are likely still to refer to it as Kagi.

One of the colonial government’s first major development projects got its start shortly after the first Japanese boots stepped foot in Keelung in 1895. The military had brought with them a group of western-educated military engineers, who were tasked with bringing the existing Qing-era railway back online, as well as coming up with proposals for the extension of the railway across the island. As the military made its way south, the engineers followed close behind surveying the land for the future railway. By 1902, the team came up with a proposal for the ‘Jukan Tetsudo Project’ (縱貫鐵道 / ゅうかんてつどう), otherwise known as the ‘Taiwan Trunk Railway Project,’ which would have a railway pass through each of Taiwan’s established settlements, including Kirin (基隆), Taihoku (臺北), Shinchiku (新竹), Taichu (臺中), Tainan (臺南) and Takao (高雄).

Link: Taiwan Railway Museum (臺灣總督府鐵道部)

Construction was divided into three phases with teams of engineers spread out between the ‘northern’, ‘central’ and ‘southern' regions of the island. Amazingly, in just four short years, from 1900 and 1904, the northern and southern portions of the railway were completed, but due to unforeseen complications, the central area met with delays and construction issues. Nevertheless, the more than four-hundred kilometer western railway was completed in 1908 (明治41), taking just under a decade to complete, a feat in its own right, given all of the obstacles that had to be overcome. To celebrate this massive accomplishment, the Colonial Government held an inauguration ceremony within the newly established Taichung Park (台中公園) with Prince Kanin Kotohito (閑院宮載仁親王) invited to take part in the ceremony.

The Japanese government at the time touted the completion of the railway as a major accomplishment that would usher in a new era of peace and stability in Taiwan, and one that would help to bring about a period of modernization, and economic stability to the people of the island, and for the most part, they were right about that.

As mentioned earlier, the northern and southern portions of the railway were completed the fastest, with the engineers having the most trouble with the central region, mostly in Taichung, due to the necessity for the construction of several bridges. The southern section, originally between Kaohsiung and Tainan opened for service in 1900, and just two years later, the railway was extended to Kagi, where the First Generation Kagi Station (第一代嘉義驛) officially opened on April 20th, 1902 (明治35年). The opening of the station would be instrumental in connecting one of southern Taiwan’s largest settlements, but also for the colonial government’s future plans to start extracting natural resources from the Alishan Mountain region.

First Generation Kagi Station (第一代嘉義驛)

Prior to the completion of the main line, construction on the Alishan Railway commenced in 1907, with a terminus for the branch line at Kagi Station. That being said, the construction of the railway, which is now considered to be one of the most beautiful rail lines in the world, met with considerable financial difficulties and delays. Nevertheless, the 86km branch railway was completed in 1913, and offered not only passenger service access to the Alishan region, but was instrumental in the extraction of the area’s prized cypress.

It should be noted, however, that what often gets overlooked in discussions about the history of Kagi Station is that the station wasn’t solely home to the Alishan Forest Branch Railway. There were also other branch railways that connected to Kagi Station, most of which traveled west toward the communities closer to the coast, in what we now refer to as Chiayi County. These branch railways offered passenger services, but were for the most part privately run enterprises belonging to the various sugar factories operating in the region, but made use of Kagi Station for purposes of transporting freight.

Photo from the skywalk to the rear of the First Generation Kagi Station.

After a few decades of use, the First Generation Kagi Station had become far too small for the community that had grown around it, as well as for the amount of freight passing through, so the expansion of the station and the railway became necessary. The station we know today, the Second Generation Kagi Station (第二代嘉義驛) was completed in 1933 (昭和8年), and was considerably larger than its single-story wooden predecessor. The new station, designed by architect Ujiki Takeo (宇敷 赳夫/うじき たけお) was constructed in a style that was considered to be quite contemporary for its time, and displayed just how much Taiwan had progressed in the few short decades since the Japanese took control of the island.

Japanese-era photo of the Second Generation Kagi Station

Just to give you a better indication of architect Ujiki Takeo’s contributions to Taiwan, he was also the mastermind responsible for Tainan Station (臺南驛), Taihoku Station (第三代台北驛), Tai’an Station (泰安驛), Kagi City Hall (嘉義郡役所), the Taipei Railway Workshop (臺北機廠), and the Shinchiku Prefectural Library (新竹州圖書館), among others.

When the new, much larger station was completed, it was part of an urban development plan that transformed the face of the downtown area of Kagi, with a number of beautifully designed civic buildings and industrial buildings nearby, making the station the literal beating heart of the ever-growing city. That being said, the importance of the station to the residents of Kagi is something that evokes both positive and negative memories.

To this point, I’ve only focused on the events that took place regarding its construction, but it has to be noted that when the Japanese surrendered control of Taiwan at the end of the Second World War, the regime that took over used the station’s importance to make a bit of a point to the people of the town about how much they were willing to put up with. By now, most people who have studied Taiwanese history have learned about the terrible events that took place during the February 28th Incident (二二八事件), something which is now commemorated as an annual national holiday in Taiwan.

However, some of the things that happened during this infamous moment in Taiwanese history aren’t very well-told, and the ‘Kagi Station Incident’ might only be one that lingers in the memories of the residents of the city. Essentially, what took place was that in 1947, the Chinese Nationalist Military found itself trapped within the Chiayi Airport, due to protests from local residents because of what was taking place in other parts of Taiwan.

One of the Kagi’s most influential citizens, famed painter and politician, Tan Teng-pho (陳澄波), partnered with a group of the city’s other well-known residents and formed the ‘February 28 Incident Committee’ (二二八事件處理委員會), and after much debate came to the conclusion that they would approach the military under the banner of peace in an attempt to mediate a solution to the conflict. Things didn’t go as planned, though, and instead, they were arrested, and once the military was able to make its way out of the airport, members of the committee were forced to march from the local police station to Kagi Station, where they were then executed in front of a crowd of people. The military and the police forbid family members from removing their corpses, and their bodies ended up being left rotting in the square in front of the station for three days as a warning to the residents of the city not to mess around.

Bloodstained Station Square (血染車站廣場) by Ouyang Wen (歐陽文)

In what has become a well-known work of art depicting what happened, artist Ouyang Wen (歐陽文), a resident of Chiayi, and an eventual political prisoner himself, depicted Tan Teng-pho and others being shot from the back of a truck by Nationalist soldiers. Sadly, this was just one example of the atrocities that the people of Taiwan had to endure during the long-period of martial law, known as the White Terror Period (白色恐怖) that followed.

Over the next half century, ‘Chiayi Station’, as its now known, has overseen considerable changes as the city has grown around it. Not only has the city grown and continued developing, but the railway has as well, with efforts constantly being made to modernize the network. That being said, the station has also overseen long periods of economic stagnation as both the timber and sugar industries that once made it an economic powerhouse have declined. The Alishan Forest Railway has been converted into a passenger-only service, and the massive network of sugar railways that once connected to the station have (for the most part) all been torn up.

With the decline of both of these industries, which were the rocket fuel of Chiayi’s urban and economic development through both the Japanese-era, and the early years of the post-war era, the necessity for freight service out of the city had also declined. While the original freight and military rails remained in place for several decades, they were finally officially put out of service in 2023 and in the time since, construction work has started to have those sections of the railway torn up, in order to prepare for the future elevation of the railway.

Link: Chiayi Urban District Elevated Railway Project (嘉義市區鐵路高架化計畫) (Wiki)

With plans to have the railway elevated off of the ground, and the eventual construction of an MRT system within the city, there will be a considerable amount of investment in the city’s public transportation over the next several decades, and in a situation similar to what happened with Taichung’s historic Japanese-era station, Chiayi Station as we know it today will be retired within the next few years. When that happens, the station will likely undergo a period of restoration, and then re-open to the public as a railway culture park of some sort.

However, since construction projects like this in Taiwan are notorious for their delays, it’s difficult to say when the historic station will see its last day of service, but as I mentioned in my introduction earlier, if you want to enjoy the station in its original glory, now is the time to visit. Try your best to get there as soon as you can so you can enjoy both the beautiful city, and its historic station!

Before I move on to detailing the architectural design of the station, I’ve put together a condensed timeline of events in the drop-down box below with regard to the station’s history for anyone who is interested:

    • 1895 (明治28年) - The Japanese take control of Taiwan as per the terms of China’s surrender in the Sino-Japanese War.

    • 1896 (明治29年) - The Colonial Government puts a team of engineers in place to plan for a railway network on the newly acquired territory.

    • 1900 (明治33年) - The first completed section of the Japanese-era railway opens for service in southern Taiwan between the port town of Kaohsiung and Tainan.

    • 1902 (明治35年) - After years of planning and surveying, the government formally approves the Jukan Tetsudo Project (縱貫鐵道 / ゅうかんてつどう), a plan that will connect the western and eastern coasts of the island by rail.

    • 1902 (明治35年4月20日) - The First Generation Kagi Station opens for service along the southern portion of the railway.

    • 1906 (明治39年) - On March 17th, the Great Kagi Earthquake (嘉義大地震), with an epicenter in Meishan (梅山) leveled much of what had been constructed in the area.

    • 1907 (明治40年) - Construction of the Alishan Railway (阿里山林鐵) commences.

    • 1908 (明治41年) - The 400 kilometer Taiwan Western Line (西部幹線) is completed with a ceremony held within Taichung Park (台中公園) on October 24th. For the first time, the major settlements along the western coast of the island are connected by rail from Kirin (Keelung 基隆) to Takao (Kaohsiung 高雄).

    • 1913 (大正2年) - The 86km Alishan Forest Railway (阿里山線) between Kagi Station and Shohei Station (沼平驛 / しょうへいえき) is completed and opens for service.

    • 1933 (昭和8年) - The Second Generation Kagi Station, designed by Ujiki Takeo (宇敷 赳夫/うじき たけお) opens for service.

    • March 2nd 1947 (民國36年3月2日) - Due to a violent conflict between the residents of Chiayi and the Chinese Nationalist military, which found itself trapped within the Chiayi Airport, several local residents, including famed painter and politician Tan Teng-pho (陳澄波) formed the ‘February 28 Incident Committee’ (二二八事件處理委員會) and approached the military in an attempt to mediate a peaceful solution to the conflict, but were instead arrested.

    • March 25th 1947 (民國36年3月25日) - Tied up with wire, the arrested members of the committee were forced to march from the local police station to the train station and were then publicly executed with members of their families forbidden from removing their corpses, which were left in the square in front of the station for three days as a warning to the residents of the city.

    • 1988 (民國77年) - A statue of Wu Feng (吳鳳), a historic figure who had attempted to ‘civilize the natives’, located near the entrance of the station, was beheaded by members of the local indigenous community as he had been propped up by the Chinese Nationalists as a national hero, but was a constant reminder of the historic racism and stereotypes that the indigenous people of Taiwan have been forced to endure.

    • 1998 (民國87年) - Chiayi Station is recognized as a Chiayi City Protected Heritage Property (市定古蹟) on October 15th.

    • 2007 (民國96年) - With the completion of the High Speed Railway, the Chiayi City government also establishes a bus network that connects the two stations.

    • 2017 (民國106年) - The area in front of the station is cleaned up and a station beautification process is undertaken.

    • 2023 (民國112年) - The non-passenger ‘platforms’ that were used for freight trains and military transport are phased out of service in order to make way for the planned elevation of the railway running through Chiayi City.

Architectural Design

As you saw in some of the historic photos provided above, for the first three decades of its existence, Kagi Station, like almost all of the ‘first-generation’ stations constructed across Taiwan, was a simple, traditionally designed wooden building. However, unlike the few Japanese-era stations that you’ll find remaining in operation today, this one was considerably larger.

If you’ve been reading my articles for any period of time, you’re likely to have noticed that I tend to focus on the more traditional-looking Japanese-style buildings, most of which were constructed with timber, and even though the Second Generation Kagi Station we know and love today is quite beautiful, the historic photos of its predecessor are the kind of thing that make you wish time travel were possible.

It would be amazing to be able to take photos of it in its original glory.

That being said, after three decades of earthquakes, typhoons, termites, and ultimately, changes in the demographics of the city, an upgrade became necessary. Coincidentally, by the time that planning started for the second generation Kagi Station, other major stations around the island were also receiving major upgrades, in most cases, due to the reasons mentioned above, but also for more practical reasons as well.

Far away from Taiwan, back on the Japanese mainland, the devastating Great Kanto Earthquake (関東大地震) in 1923, completely changed the Japanese mindset regarding construction. All of the work that had been done throughout the Meiji and Taisho eras, developing Japan into a modern nation had been reduced to rubble in a matter of minutes and due to the frequency of earthquakes, the Japanese government started to take building safety much more seriously. This was a period when ‘earthquake-proofing’ structures became paramount and as it happened, the colonial government had developed Taiwan to the point that the materials required for constructing buildings with reinforced concrete had become readily available, and considerably more affordable. Thus, many of the civic buildings and train stations that were constructed in the aftermath of the Kanto earthquake started to adapt to this method of construction as safety and longevity became paramount.

Note: Although the Second Generation Kagi Station was completed in 1933, earthquake-proofing in Taiwan didn’t actually became the law of the land until the Governor General’s official building-standard codes came into effect after the Shinchiku-Taichu Earthquake (新竹台中地震 / しんちくたいちゅうじしん) of 1935 (昭和10), which caused tremendous damage around the island.

Ujiki Takeo (宇敷 赳夫/うじき たけお), an architect, who, shortly after his graduation from Nagoya Higher Technical School (名古屋高等工業學校), was commissioned by the Taiwan Governor General’s Office to come to Taiwan to work with the colonial government’s design team. Coincidentally, his father, Ujiki Keiichi (宇敷敬一), came to Taiwan almost a decade earlier, working in various departments prior to the arrival of his son in 1916 (大正5年). During his time in Taiwan, Takeo was shifted around a few times between different departments, working closely with Shinchiku Prefecture (新竹州), Tainan Prefecture (臺南州), and then with the Railway Bureau (鐵道部) as an architect. As noted earlier, Ujiki became an incredibly accomplished architect here in Taiwan, designing some of the era’s most beautiful buildings, several of which remain standing today.

Ujiki’s work, especially the buildings he designed for the railway, differed from the original classic architectural designs reserved for train stations, and instead made use of the European Art Deco architectural style. While not entirely European in design, Ujiki often fused with elements of Japanese style of design, creating what the Taiwan Architectural Society (臺灣建築會誌) referred to at the time as “Modern Revival Style” (近世復興式).

What’s common among the major railway stations that were designed by Ujiki, which most notably include the Third Generation Taihoku Station (第三代臺北驛), Second Generation Tainan Station (第二代臺南驛), and Kagi Station (嘉義驛), the latter two of which remain in operation today, follow his ‘Modern Revival Style’ of design. By the 1930s, the Art Deco style of architectural design had become quite popular throughout Europe and North America, and was a style of design that likely showed up at the right time given the national scars that Japan had endured due to massive earthquakes on the mainland as well as in Taiwan. Buildings constructed in this style were constructed with steel-framed reinforced concrete and were characterized by their clean lines, rectangular forms, with little to no decoration on the facades, which was a stark contrast from the Art Nouveau and Baroque styles that were quite popular with Japanese architects in the early years of the Japanese-era.

In what would have been a stark contrast from what people were used to at the time, the Second Generation Kagi Station was constructed quite faithfully to Art Deco architectural design characteristics. It featured a large box-like main hall, with wings on both its eastern and western sides. The building’s walls were smooth, featured very little in terms of decorative design, and had mostly flat roofs, in what was meant to emphasize classical symmetrical design. While not entirely decorative in nature, the main hall of the station is characterized by its five large arched windows on the front as well as on the rear. Although they do add a decorative element to the building’s design, they’re also quite functional in that they allow for a considerable amount of natural light within the interior of the main hall. Directly above the largest window in the center of the building, you’ll find a clock, which has been part of the building’s design for more than ninety years, and unlike the clock tower that was removed from the historic Taichung Station, its not only still there, but it still works as well.

One of the things you’ll notice about both the entrance to the main hall, and the area where you go through the turnstiles to the platform is it's odd-shape, which is unlike any other railway station in Taiwan. The entrance is not only wide, but it’s also geometrically curved at the top. The border of the entrances features specially-molded curved bricks that were fired in Beitou (北投素燒面磚), which are noticeable, because they are also featured on the edges and borders of the building in the areas where the walls aren’t white washed stone. The combination of the two gives the building its iconic white and orange appearance, which is also quite unique among Taiwan’s railway stations. The clever thing about the shape of the door, with the assistance of the windows, is that during the right time of day, the light that comes in through both the entrance and the windows creates a path of light in the direction of the turnstiles, which if you know anything about the meticulous attention to detail of Japanese architecture, was entirely on purpose.

The interior space of the building is something that has changed considerably over the decades, but as I’ll mention a bit later, now that it has been cleaned up, it has more or less returned to its original interior design. The interior walls are painted with white stucco, which assist in making the space quite bright with the natural light coming in through the windows. The space was set up into different sections with only the Ticket Booth (出札室), a luggage room (赤帽室), and a canteen (賣店) located within the main hall. The western-wing was where you’d find a large Waiting Area (參等待合室), and the area where passengers would exit upon arrival.

The eastern wing, on the other hand, was a little more complicated as it also featured a Waiting Area (壹貳等待合室), but a VIP Waiting Room (特別待合室) that had a special side entrance (特別玄關), and its own special platform gate. It also featured a staff room (給仕室), and public restrooms (用便所與化粧室) for men and women.

Even though the interior design has recently been cleaned up, it’s important to note that there are still considerable differences from the original 1933 design, but that’s to be expected after so many years. The luggage room, for example, was at some point transformed into the ticket booth for the Alishan Forest Railway line, but they’ve since moved it elsewhere, and the area is currently unused. Similarly, the waiting rooms on both the eastern and western wings have been filled. Instead of providing an open space with seating for passengers, the western wing has tourist information booths, and the eastern wing currently has a Family Mart convenience store, which I’m assuming also makes use of the former VIP space as a rear entrance for deliveries.

Space within the Main Hall has remained relatively the same, but the canteen space has been removed, and was originally used for purchasing tickets from machines, but now that the railway allows passengers to swipe in and out using EasyCards, they have been removed and the space is completely open, which is quite nice.

Once you’ve passed through the turnstiles, you’ll have reached the space where I feel like the decorative elements of the station stand out the most. The platform area where you wait for the arrival of your train features an absolutely beautiful network of pillars and trusses that provide passengers with a roof-covered platform waiting area (月台構). What most people don’t actually realize is that this is one area of the station that never really changed in its design since the station first opened in 1933, as you can see compared in the photos below.

The network of pillars and trusses that hold up the canopy have been constructed using the very same rails that are used for the trains, and what’s important to note is that the the curved beams and trusses that hold up the roof were imported directly from Kyushu. Given the age of the station, and the amount of typhoons and earthquakes that have occurred in the decades since, it’s amazing that they have been been able to withstand the test of time the way that they have. If you find yourself at the station, take a minute or two to appreciate the design.

Ultimately, when the Japanese-era came to an end, Chiayi Station went through quite a few changes over the next half century, and I have to admit, on my first visit to the city, the station didn’t leave much of an impression on me. In what has become somewhat of an Internet meme in Taiwan, what happened to the station is similar to what happened to a lot of Taiwan’s other historically significant buildings in that it went through a ‘ROC-Beautification’ (華國美學) process. The jist of the joke is that a bunch of hideous things were added to more or less cover up the original design. If you do a Google search for the station and check out some of the images, you’ll likely be quite surprised at just how sad the station appeared for a few decades, mostly during the years when Chiayi’s economy was in decline.

Fortunately, the city government established the ‘Back to the Future’ program in 2021 prior to the city hosting the Taiwan Design Exhibition (台灣設計展).

Link: Back to the Future!嘉義火車站微改造2.0 重現1933全島第一摩登車站 (Taiwan Design Research Institute)

It was during this time that the decades of modifications were removed, and the ticketing hall was reorganized to restore the building to its original glory. The beautification process not only restored the interior of the station, and removed the hideous concrete that covered up the front of the station, but it also transformed the station front, which used to allow vehicles to drive up pretty close to the main entrance. Now, the square in front of the station has been completely cleaned up, and has also become a lot more pedestrian (and photographer)-friendly.

Getting There

 

Address: #528 Zhongshan Road, Chiayi City (嘉義市中山路528號)

GPS: 23.479436, 120.441055

Whenever I write about one of Taiwan’s historic train stations, obviously the best advice for getting there is to simply take the train. That being said, Chiayi is a pretty popular place, and there are a number of ways to reach the city, without taking the train. Obviously, though, if you want to spend some time checking out the interior space of the station, including the beautiful platform space, you’ll probably want to get on or off the train while in town.

Whether you’re traveling southbound, or northbound, as one of Taiwan’s major railway stations, Chiayi Station is accessible via each of the western trunk line’s express train services as well as the local commuter trains, so matter what train you get on, it’ll make a stop at the station.

High Speed Rail / Bus Rapid Transport

If you arrive in Chiayi via Taiwan’s High Speed Rail, you’ll probably notice that the station is located a fair distance away from the downtown core of the city. Taking the HSR to Chiayi saves a lot of travel time, especially if you’re traveling from Taipei, but once you’ve arrived, you’re going to have to either take a taxi or a bus into town. Fortunately, Chiayi Station is connected to the Chiayi High Speed Railway Station (嘉義高鐵站) through the Chiayi Bus Rapid Transit (嘉義公車捷運), an express bus service that connects the High Speed Rail station to the city.

If you arrive in the area via High Speed Rail, you can easily exit the station to the bus parking area and hop on either bus #7211 or #7212 to get yourself to the downtown core of the city.

Link: Bus #7211 and #7212 schedule (Chiayi City Bureau of Transport)

As one of only three remaining major railway stations from the Japanese-era in operation today, Chiayi Station has a long and storied history, with some pretty great things happening there, but also some pretty sad things as well. Even though the station is just a year years short of celebrating its centennial, the station as we know it today is about to undergo changes similar to what took place in Taichung, and eventually it’ll be retired.

The station is part of a dying breed of Taiwan’s historic public transportation hubs and as the city has developed around it over the past century, with its final breaths, it’ll see the downtown core of the city completely transform when the elevated railway officially starts running. Once that happens, Chiayi Station will be phased out of service, and its role will ultimately change from the city’s most important transportation hub to a place where the history of the city is celebrated for years to come, much like what happened with Taichung Station. So, if you’re interested in checking out this historic station while its still in operation, I highly recommend taking a trip to Chiayi as soon as you can. Obviously, you won’t be disappointed as the city is currently one of the hippest places in Taiwan to visit with a number of great restaurants and coffeeshops!

References

  1. Chiayi railway station | 嘉義車站 中文 | 嘉義駅 日文 (Wiki)

  2. Tainan Prefecture | 臺南州 中文台南州 日文 (Wiki)

  3. Chiayi | 嘉義市 (州轄市) (Wiki)

  4. 宇敷赳夫 中文 | 宇敷赳夫 日本 (Wiki)

  5. 嘉義火車站 (國家文化資產網)

  6. 嘉義火車站 (文化部)

  7. 嘉義車站 (臺灣驛站之旅)

  8. 嘉義車站 (鐵貓)

  9. 林業鐵路歷史介紹 (林業鐵道)

  10. 嘉義火車站 (Wilhelm Chang)

  11. 嘉義火車站空間微改造大變化,減法設計回歸歷史建築的原始美 (微笑台灣)

  12. 2021台灣設計展【02嘉義火車站】微改造!打開古蹟建築的原貌歡迎大家回嘉 (LaVie)

  13. Back to the Future!嘉義火車站微改造2.0 重現1933全島第一摩登車站 (臺灣設計研究院)

  14. 嘉義市市定古蹟嘉義火車站調查研究 (嘉義市文化局)

  15. 日治後期火車站、鐵道大多出自他之手──現代Art Deco風格設計者「宇敷赳夫」(Story Studio)


Chiayi Shinto Shrine (嘉義神社)

I’ve been saying for quite a long time now that I need to spend more time in Chiayi. I’ve always had a special place in my heart for the city, which, like Tainan to the south, displays a tremendous amount of history on its streets.

For a long time, Chiayi had become run-down, and its youth were leaving for larger cities and better opportunities elsewhere. In recent years, however, all of that has changed, and Chiayi has become a hipsters paradise, its young people have returned, and they’ve brought with them genius ideas for coffee shops, restaurants, cocktail bars, etc.

The local government, to its credit, has been quick to offer a helping hand in fostering this youth takeover of the city, converting historic buildings into art museums and music venues, and opening a number of culture parks dedicated to both celebrating the history of the city, and its future at the same time. With all of the art exhibits, music festivals, restaurants and cafes, it has become considerably more difficult to make excuses for not visiting the city, especially since there are a large number of destinations that are on my list to take photos of and write about.

So, one weekend, in order to escape the rain in the north of Taiwan, I hopped on a train and made my way down south for a trip that helped reintroduce me to a city that I’ve loved for quite a while. This time, however, instead of spending all of my time taking photos, I kept my list of destinations short, and instead decided to enjoy some of the great coffee shops that have become really popular as of late, in addition to a hip new ramen shop.

Still, I had a couple of places on my list that were must visits, and the first of which was Chiayi Park, where the ruins of the historic Chiayi Shinto Shrine are located. In its heyday, the shrine was regarded as one of the most important in Taiwan, and even though only bits and pieces of it remain, what you can still see there today is arguably more complete then the vast majority of other shrine ruins that you’ll encounter in your travels across Taiwan today.

Sadly, like most of the other Japanese-era sites that I write about, there isn’t much information available in the English language about the shrine that offers visitors much of an idea about its history, or what they’re seeing when they visit. So, as usual, I’m going to be providing readers with an in-depth introduction to the history of the shrine, a timeline of events, and an explanation of each of the pieces that remain on site today.

While I was visiting primarily to check out the ruins of the shrine, for the average visitor, the park where it’s located, shouldn’t be missed as it is not only home to the shrine ruins, but also the popular Sun-Shooting Tower (射日塔), the Chiayi Confucius Temple (嘉義孔廟), the Chiayi Botanical Garden (林業試驗所嘉義樹木園), Kano Baseball Memorial Park (嘉農園區), and is a short walk from other attractions such as the historic Chiayi Prison (嘉義舊監獄), Hinoki Village (檜意森活村), Beimen Station (北門車站) and the Alishan Forest Railway Garage Park (阿里山森林鐵路車庫園區), among a number of other destinations.

There’s a lot to see and do when you’re in Chiayi, and that’s not even including all the amazing restaurants and coffeeshops that you’ll be able to visit when you’re taking a break from sightseeing.

Now that I’ve been reacquainted with the city, I’ll definitely be back soon. I had a lot of fun, and before I knew it, it was time to hop back on a train to head back home. I think if you visit, you’re likely to feel the same. Chiayi’s one of those places in Taiwan that everyone should be making an effort to visit.

Now, let’s talk about the shrine.

Kagi Shrine (嘉義神社 / かぎじんじゃ)

Group photo in front of the First Generation Kagi Shrine

Similar to Tainan to the south, Chiayi is a city that has had a long and storied history. Originally inhabited by the Hoanya (洪雅族) Indigenous People, the arrival of Han Chinese immigrants in southwestern Taiwan in the 16th and 17th centuries was when things in the area really started to change. A port was constructed in (modern-day) Beigang (北港), and even though living conditions in Taiwan at the time would have been tremendously difficult, boats from Fujian frequently made their way over to drop off newcomers, who would help cultivate the untamed land.

Shortly thereafter, the arrival of Dutch traders created another major change for the area, as the the Dutch doing what they were quite well-known for at the time, quickly sought to colonize Taiwan. Trading posts were set up in various settlements around that island, offering them an opportunity to interact with the indigenous people as well as both the Qing and the Japanese at the same time. Dutch control of Taiwan didn’t last very long, but with their capital in Tainan, it marked the first time in Taiwan’s history when the island was governed from the south.

The First Generation Kagi Shrine shortly after it was completed.

Dutch rule may have been short in terms of Taiwan’s overall history, but the legacy they left behind is something that continues to be felt today. I could spend time talking the ports they set up, the international trade that they started, the success of their missionaries in converting Indigenous Taiwanese, but as this article is about Chiayi, one of the most important things the Dutch did was introduce the domestic turkey to Taiwan. If it weren’t for the Dutch, we wouldn’t be able to enjoy Chiayi’s delicious Turkey Rice (嘉義火雞肉飯)!

Expelled by Koxinga (鄭成功) and his pirate army who then set up their own Kingdom of Tungning (東寧王國) in Tainan, the area would yet again undergo yet another new form of foreign governance, but once again, it wouldn’t last very long as the Qing sailed over with their navy and brought the Kingdom of Tungning to its knees after only a few decades. Qing rule over the island began in 1683, and Chiayi, which was known as “Tsulosan” (諸羅山) at the time was one of the few settlements where the Chinese authorities were able to maintain their loose control over the island.

One of Kagi Shrine's original shrine gates.

That being said, between 1683 and 1895, the Qing were relatively uninterested in governing or developing Taiwan, they sought to prohibit immigration, and a number of rebellions against their rule wore down what little interest they already had. History has shown that for the majority of time that the Qing controlled Taiwan they were mostly uninterested in the island referring to it as a "ball of mud beyond the sea" adding "nothing to the breadth of China" (海外泥丸,不足為中國加廣), and were ultimately unable to expand their land control any further than a few western coastal areas.

When not denigrating Taiwan as a place unfit for human civilization, the Qing had an idiom to describe their rule over Taiwan that went like this: “Every three years an uprising, every five years a rebellion” (三年一反、五年一亂).

Link: Taiwan under Qing rule (Wiki)

Japanese-era postcard of the First Generation Kagi Shrine.

The reason I mention this is that in the aftermath of one of the largest uprisings against Qing rule, the Lin Shuangwen Rebellion (林爽文事件), the inhabitants of Tsulosan fought brilliantly, and were successful in preventing Lin’s rebel militia from taking the town. As a reward for their bravery, the Qianlong Emperor (乾隆帝) bestowed the name “Kagi” (嘉義) upon the town, which is loosely translated as “Excellent Righteousness,” and is a name that has stuck since 1788.

Note: Kagi is the Hokkien Taiwanese pronunciation of the Mandarin “Chiayi,” which is more commonly used today.

Nevertheless, Qing rule remained more or less the same for the next century or so, but control of Taiwan was ceded to the Japanese Empire in 1895, after the Chinese were easily defeated in the First Sino-Japanese War (甲午戰爭). When Japanese forces arrived in Taiwan that same year, they sought to take control over the entire island, and planned a three-phase assault, starting in the north taking Keelung, Taipei and Tamsui. In the second phase they took Hsinchu, Miaoli and Changhua, and then moved toward the south capturing Chiayi, Tainan and Kaohsiung. Taking complete control of Taiwan proved to be an incredibly dangerous undertaking for the Japanese, who not only had to deal with armed resistance, but cholera and malaria as well.

It would end up taking several years for the Japanese to take complete control of Taiwan, and their losses were numerous, however, it was the people of Taiwan who suffered the most, especially with the heavy-handed tactics that the Japanese took to suppress dissent to their rule. That being said, when the dust of war settled, and the island started to develop, living standards on the island in turn started to improve, and the frequency of rebellions decreased.

One of the shrine's administration offices.

In 1906, the Meishan Earthquake (梅山地震), the third deadliest earthquake in Taiwan’s recorded history reduced Chiayi to rubble, and in response, the Japanese government mobilized military and medical personnel to the area to assist in recovery efforts. The earthquake may have devastated the city, but despite all the suffering and destruction it caused, it also created opportunity as the Japanese were able to craft the city into their own, and “Kagi” (嘉義 / かぎ), the Japanese pronunciation of the city, developed at such a high pace that it started to flourish as it never had before. Becoming a major economic center for agriculture, timber and sugar, and Taiwan’s fourth-most populated city, the colonial government placed a considerable amount of attention on the urban development of the city.

With the construction of the Alishan Railway (阿里山林鐵) connecting to the main branch line, Kagi City had become equipped with beautiful civic structures, parks, modern roads, and public works. Living and economic conditions in the city had improved at such a fast rate that the city’s growth became a model of how Japanese rule was considered to be of benefit to the people of Taiwan, and the city became attractive to both Formosans, but also Japanese immigrants as well, who were apprehensive at first to come to Taiwan.

The Main Hall and the Worship Hall of the First Generation Kagi Shrine.

With an influx of Japanese immigration, conducted first by private companies, and then later publicly, the necessity for infrastructure to cater to their needs became more important. Certainly, one of the most important areas in this regard was with the construction of Shinto Shrines, which were important not only for the daily lives of the immigrants who came to Taiwan, but also to assist in the colonial regime’s push to fully assimilate the Formosan people into Japanese society.

Discussions regarding the construction of a Shinto Shrine in Kagi started around 1911 (明治44年), when the first organized meeting of the Kagi Shrine Committee (嘉義神社興建評鑑委員會) was held by influential members of society. Planning for the shrine, however, was expedited with the passing of Emperor Meiji (明治天皇) the next year as commemorations for his death, and the inauguration of a new era were held across Taiwan.

Shortly after, an official application was sent to the Governor General of Taiwan, Sakuma Samata (佐久間左馬太 / さくま さまた) for the establishment of a shrine, which was quickly approved. Thanks to the economic development of the city, and the completion of the Alishan Railway, everything that was required for the construction of a shrine was readily available. Thus, in 1915, famed craftsman Mitsuru Ito (伊藤滿), who had just completed construction on the First Generation Taichung Shrine (第一代臺中神社) was contracted to come to Kagi to construct the shrine. With a budget of 36,000 Yen (an equivalent of about $360,000 USD in modern currency), the shrine was constructed entirely of cypress from Alishan, and its official inauguration ceremony was held on October 28th, 1915 (大正4年).

The Visiting Path of the First Generation Kagi Shrine with stone lanterns and shrine gate.

Just two years after its inauguration, the shrine received an ‘upgrade’ in its official status as a County-Level Shrine (縣社 / けんしゃ) in the pre-war shrine ranking system, and while it would have been considered an honor at the time, it was something that would also change relatively quickly.

Note: The organizational structure of Shinto Shrines prior to the war were based on the ‘State Shinto’ system. In this system there were major Imperial-level shrines (官幣社 / かんぺいしゃ), and National-level shrines (国幣社 / こくへいしゃ), but the vast majority of shrines in both Japan and Taiwan ranked lower on the hierarchy, such as the metropolitan and prefectural shrines, like this one.

County-level shrines, known as ‘ken-sha’ (縣社 / けんしゃ), weren’t very high in the hierarchy, but having that upgrade in status ensured that it received a certain amount of funding from the government.

Link: Modern system of ranked Shinto shrines | 近代社格制度 (Wiki)

Administration Hall of the Kagi Shrine

That being said, as I just mentioned, the shrine’s official status would change within a few short years. In 1920 (大正9年), the Governor General’s Office instituted the ‘Doka Policy’ (同化 / どうか), which would become one of the Japanese-era’s most important administrative restructuring initiatives. This new system, meant to standardize the administrative divisions in Taiwan with those in Japan, was part of a wave of major investment in the governance of Taiwan, where the government in Japan considered Taiwan to be ‘separate’ but ‘equal’ at the same time. Of the original twenty administrative districts in Taiwan, the 1920 policy reduced the number to eight prefectures (州廳), and it was during this period that Chiayi was upgraded into Kagi City (嘉義市 / かぎし), with much of the farmland and coastal area that surrounded the city becoming part of Kagi County (嘉義郡 / かぎぐん), a sub-division of the much larger Tainan Prefecture (臺南州 / たいなんしゅう). As there were only two ‘cities’ within Tainan Prefecture, Kagi City became a lot more important, resulting in a number of major major construction projects in the city, something that was taking place across the island, resulting in some of the largest and most iconic Japanese-era buildings that you’ll see in Taiwan today.

Link: Political divisions of Taiwan (1895–1945)

A wedding held at the Kagi Shrine

With the rapid development of the city and the flourishing economy, the population of Kagi grew exponentially, both with local Taiwanese and Japanese immigrants as well. However, due to the growth of the city, the shrine had become far too small to cater to the needs of its citizens, and by the 1930s, the Japanese had learned the hard way that when it comes to the construction of wooden buildings in Taiwan, termites are your worst enemy. The shrine, beautiful as it was, offered a veritable feast for Taiwan’s infamous white termites, and the damage eventually became irreparable.

In 1937, the Governor of Tainan Prefecture created the ‘Kagi Shrine Fundraising Committee’ (嘉義神社奉贊會), and over the next two years a massive 200,000 Yen (an equivalent of about 2 million USD today) was raised for both the reconstruction and expansion of the shrine. With the purchase of an additional plot of land, construction of the Second Generation Kagi Shrine got underway in 1940, and the project took until 1943 to complete. Constructed in two phases, the original shrine was preserved, but the layout of the completely changed from its original east-west direction to a north-south direction, which provided more space, as well as allowing for an entrance that was more convenient for visitors.

The first phase of the construction project was the upper part of the shrine, and was completed in 1942, with a ceremony held for the relocation of the kami from the original shrine to their new home. The second phase was the lower section of the shrine, which included the beautiful Shrine Office and the Priest’s Hall, both of which remain standing today.

The Visiting Path of the First Generation Kagi Shrine

Shortly after the Second Generation Shrine opened, it’s status was once again upgraded, but this time, instead of being classified as a minor shrine, it become one of only three shrines in Taiwan to receive the Minor National Level Shrine (國幣小社 / こくへいしょうしゃ) rank, which goes to show just how important both the shrine and the city had become.

Nevertheless, with the shrine completed in 1943, its time as a Shinto Shrine was short, given that the Second World War came to an end in 1945. The Japanese were forced to surrender control of Taiwan under the terms of their surrender and with the Republic of China taking control of Taiwan, the shrine, like many of Taiwan’s other major Shinto Shrines was converted into a war memorial, known locally as a ‘Martyrs Shrine’ (忠烈祠). Similarly, Kagi Park was renamed Zhongshan Park (中山公園) in honor of the founding father of the ROC, Sun Yat Sen (孫中山).

The Shrine Office and the Priests Hall were later converted into a Military Hospital, and a Confucius Temple (嘉義孔廟) was also constructed nearby. The layout of the shrine, however, more or less remained the same until fire sadly burnt down the Main Hall and the Worship Hall in 1995.

The Sun-Shooting Tower at the end of the Visiting Path where the shrine once stood.

In the aftermath of the fire, the Chiayi City Government constructed a large tower for tourists, and a new Martyrs Shrine was constructed in its basement. The remaining sections of the original Shinto Shrine were later recognized as Chiayi City Municipal Monuments (嘉義市市定古蹟), and were preserved as part of a heritage park that would celebrate the history of the shrine, and the city.

Today, Chiayi Park is a great place to visit as it not only celebrates the history of its former Shinto Shrine, but a visit also provides tourists with the opportunity to enjoy a number of different experiences, making it an important stop if you’re in town.

Below, I’ll introduce the differences between the first and second generation shrines, and then I’ll move onto a detailed timeline to help readers better understand what was once part of the shrine:

First Generation Kagi Shrine (第一代の嘉義神社) 1915-1940

The First Generation Shrine. If you look closely you can see the stone guardians on either side of the shrine gates.

The First Generation Shrine, completed in 1915, with cypress brought directly from Alishan (阿里山) for its construction. While a lot more modest than the Second Generation Shrine, from the historic photos I’m sharing here today, it’s easy to see that it was absolutely beautiful.

The First Generation Shrine consisted of the following sections:

  1. Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう) - including a stone pathway, an information board (揭示場), shrine gates (鳥居 / とりい), stone lanterns (燈籠 / とうろう) lining both sides of the path, and komainu (狛犬 / こまいぬ) lion-dogs next to the entrance to the shrine.

  2. Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずしゃ) - Likely located just outside of the sacred section of the shrine.

  3. Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ) - Likely located along the Visiting Path, opposite the Purification Fountain.

  4. Offertory Hall (幣殿 / へいでん) - the space where worshipers could approach the shrine to pray or make offerings.

  5. Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん) - the worship space where ceremonies were held.

  6. Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん) - the home of the shrine’s kami.

  7. Shrine Fence (玉垣 / たまがき) - a tall wooden fence that surrounds the sacred area of the shrine, preventing people from wandering into a space where they shouldn’t be.

Second Generation Kagi Shrine (第二代の嘉義神社) 1942-1995

The far more expansive Second Generation Kagi Shrine.

The Second Generation Kagi Shrine, completed between 1940-1943 was a major upgrade, and completely changed the layout of the shrine space. With the purchase of additional land, the First Generation Shrine, which was measured at 28,460㎡ (8609坪) expanded to 33306㎡ (10,075坪), which allowed for not only a change in layout, but also included a number of additional buildings, and a much larger shrine than the original.

The Second Generation Shrine consisted of the following sections:

  1. Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう) - Including a stone pathway, a stone ‘shimebashira’ (標柱 / しめばしら) pillar at the entrance that indicated the name of the shrine, three shrine gates (鳥居 / とりい), several sets of large stone lanterns (大燈籠) and several sets medium sized lanterns (中燈籠) lining both sides of the path, and komainu (狛犬 / こまいぬ) lion-dogs.

  2. Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ) - located along the right side of the Visiting Path prior to passing through the second shrine gate.

  3. Priest’s Hall (齋館 / さいかん) - located directly next door to the Administration Office.

  4. Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずしゃ) - located on the opposing side of the Visiting Path from the Administration Office and Priest’s Hall.

  5. Resting Pavilion (參集所) - located next to the Purification Fountain, it was a space for people to relax and get some shade from the sun.

  6. Ritual Storage Building (祭器庫 / さいきくら) - just beyond the second shrine gate on the right of the Visiting Path, a building used to store equipment used for special occasions.

  7. Offertory Hall (幣殿 / へいでん) - the space where worshipers could approach the shrine to pray or make offerings.

  8. Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん) - the worship space where ceremonies were held.

  9. Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん) - the home of the shrine’s kami.

  10. Shrine Fence (玉垣 / たまがき) - a tall wooden fence that surrounded the sacred area of the shrine, preventing people from wandering into a space where they shouldn’t be.

  11. Priests Residences (神職宿舍) - Residences constructed especially for the shrine staff who lived on-site.

Kami Enshrined at the Kagi Shrine

As mentioned earlier, Kagi City at the time was a bustling economic port for both the sugar and timber industries, so the city developed quite quickly compared to many other areas in central-southern Taiwan. The kami who were chosen to take up residence within the shrine were a reflection of the importance of the city’s industrial output, but also included someone who became regarded as a ‘patron-saint’ in Taiwan, and of course, one of Shintoism’s most important figures, the goddess of the sun, the queen of heaven and creation.

Prince Kitashirakawa Yoshihisa (北白川宮能久親王)

Prince Kitashirakawa Yoshihisa, a western-educated Major-General in the Japanese imperial army was commissioned to participate in the invasion of Taiwan after the island was ceded to the empire. Unfortunately for the Prince, he contracted malaria and died in (either) modern day Hsinchu or Tainan (where he died is disputed). This made him the first member of the Japanese royal family to pass away outside of Japan in more than nine hundred years.

Shortly after his death, he was elevated to the status of a ‘kami’ under State Shinto with the official name “Kitashirakawa no Miya Yoshihisa-shinno no Mikoto.“ Enshrined at the Yasukuni Shrine (靖國神社) in Tokyo, he subsequently became one of the most important patron deities here in Taiwan with his worship somewhat unique to the island. The Prince was enshrined at the Taiwan Grand Shrine (臺灣神社) in Taipei, and almost every other major shrine on the island.

The Three Deities of Cultivation (かいたくさんじん / 開拓三神)

The Three Deities of Cultivation, consist of three figures known for their skills with regard to nation-building, agriculture, business, medicine and weather. Commonly appearing as tutelar deities in many of Japan’s Shinto Shrines, they were especially important here in Taiwan due to what they represented, which included aspects of nation-building, agriculture, medicine and the weather. Sharing characteristics with one of Taiwan’s most important deities, the ‘Earth God’ (福德正神 / 土地公), their worship would have been considered somewhat of a simple introduction to the new state religion, but given Taiwan’s position as a new addition to the Japanese empire, ‘nation-building’ and the association of a Japanese-style way of life was something that was (forcibly) pushed on the local people in more ways than one.

The Three Deities of Cultivation are as follows:

  1. Okunitama no Mikoto (大國魂大神 / おおくにたまのかみ) - the kami of the nation-state and the ‘spirit of the country’

  2. Onamuchi no Mikoto (大名牟遲大神 / おおなむちのかみ) - kami of nation-building, agriculture, medicine, and protective magic

  3. Sukunabikona no Mikoto (少彥名大神 / すくなひこなのかみ) - the kami hot springs, agriculture, healing, magic, brewing sake and knowledge

Amaterasu (天照大神)

One of the children of the god and goddess of creation, Izanami (伊邪那美命) and Izanagi (伊邪那岐神), Amaterasu is one Shintoism’s most important deities. Known formally as Amaterasu-Ōmikami (天照大御神 / あまてらすおおみかみ), she is regarded as the goddess of the sun and the universe, and is considered to be the mythical ancestor of the Imperial House of Japan. Enshrined at the Ise Grand Shrine (伊勢神宮) in Mie Prefecture (三重縣), worship of the goddess is often directly linked to worship of “Japan” itself, known as “Japanese Spirit”, or Yamato-damashii (大和魂).

This is something that became problematic during the period when State Shintoism was one of the tools used to fuel the militarism. Even though worship of Amaterasu far predates the insanity that led Japan on military adventures throughout Asia in the 19th and 20th Centuries, her perceived relationship with Japan’s militarism is just one of the reasons why the Chinese Nationalists were so keen on destroying Taiwan’s shrines when they took control of Taiwan after the Second World War.

Note: When the Second Generation Kagi Shrine was completed, the original space that was used for the Main Hall was converted into an Auxiliary Shrine, known in Japan as a ‘setsumatsusha’ (攝末社 / せつまつしゃ), a conjunction of ‘sessha’ (攝社 / せっしゃ) and ‘massha’ (末社 / まっしゃ), referring to the ‘mini’ shrines you’ll often find within a larger shrine. The addition of an Auxiliary Shrine made space for the worship of some other important deities who took up residence in the building after the kami mentioned above were relocated to their new home in the newly constructed Main Hall.

  • Ukanomitama-no-Kami (倉稻魂命 / うかのみたまのかみ), more commonly known as “Inari” (稲荷大神), one of modern day Japan’s most popular deities. Inari is responsible for performing a number of roles, but is most commonly known as the guardian of foxes, and the kami of fertility, rice, tea, agriculture, industry, and prosperity. Playing a similar role to the Chinese God of Wealth (財神), people most often visit Inari Shrines to pray for success in business

  • Oomiyanome-no-Kami (大宮賣神 / おおみやのめのかみ) - the kami of business prosperity, a female deity that often appears alongside Inari. While known for abilities similar to those of Inari, Oomiyanome is also known for her skills with regard to the protection of shrines, so she is often an important addition to a shrine in the same way that dragons adorn the roofs of temples here in Taiwan.

  • Sarutahiko Okami (猿田彦大神 / さる-たひこ) - regarded as one of the ‘Great Deities’ (大神) of Shintoism, ‘Sarutahiko Okami’, is the leader of the kunitsukami (国つ神), or the ‘gods of the earth’.

Kagi Shrine Timeline

While I’ve covered quite a few of the events that led up to the construction of the original shrine, the second generation shrine, and what happened after the Japanese-era, there are a number of other important events that weren’t mentioned, so I’ve put together a timeline of events below for anyone interested in a more in-depth look at the shrine’s history, click the drop-down box below.

    • (明治28年) - The Japanese take control of Taiwan.

    • 1906 (明治39年) - On March 17th, the Great Kagi Earthquake (嘉義大地震), with an epicenter in Meishan (梅山) leveled much of what had been constructed in the area.

    • 1907 (明治40年) - Construction of the Alishan Railway (阿里山林鐵) commences.

    • 1910 (明治43年) - Kagi Park (嘉義公園 / かぎこうえん) is officially established.

    • 1911 (明治44年) - The first session of the Kagi Shrine Committee (嘉義神社興建評鑑委員會) was held at the Kagi Club (嘉義俱樂部) in order to start planning for the construction of a shrine in the town.

    • 1912 (大正1年) - Emperor Meiji passes away on July 30th, and events are held in Kagi (and across Taiwan) to commemorate his passing. Shortly after in November, an official application is sent to Governor General of Taiwan, Sakuma Samata (佐久間左馬太 / さくま さまた) for the establishment of a shrine, which was quickly approved.

    • 1913 (大正2年) - Fundraising events for the construction of the shrine officially get underway. The completion of the Alishan Railway assisted with both fundraising, and the future construction of the shrine with raw materials from the mountain.

    • 1915 (大正4年) - Construction on the shrine starts on May 1st with the project overseen by famed Nagoya craftsman, Mitsuru Ito (伊藤滿), who had also helped design and construct some of Taiwan’s other major shrines. The shrine was completed on October 20th, and the official opening ceremony was held a week later. In total, 36,000 Yen were spent on its construction, an equivalent of about 54 million yen ($360,000 USD) in modern day currency.

    • 1917 (大正6年) - The Kagi Shrine is officially recognized as a County-Level Shrine (縣社), an upgrade in its status.

    • 1920 (大正9年) - The Japanese government institutes the ‘Doka policy’ (同化 / どーか), which standardizes Taiwan’s political divisions with the system used in the rest of the country. From then on, Kagi City (嘉義街 /かぎかい) is put under the administrative authority of Tainan Prefecture’s (臺南州 /たいなんしゅう) Kagi County (嘉義郡/かぎぐん).

    • 1936 (昭和11年) - The Colonial Government’s “Japanization” or ‘forced assimilation’ Kominka (皇民化運動) policy comes into effect in Taiwan.

    • 1937 (昭和12年) - Due to the growth of Kagi and the increase in the number of visitors to the shrine, as well as the problem of termite infestations wreaking havoc on the shrine, the Governor of Tainan Prefecture creates the ‘Kagi Shrine Fund Raising Committee’ (嘉義神社奉贊會) in order to reconstruct and expand the shrine.

    • 1940 (昭和15年) - Over 200,000 Yen (20萬圓) is raised for the reconstruction of the shrine, and plans are officially approved by the Tainan Prefectural Government with construction immediately started.

    • 1942 (昭和17年) - Construction of the Second Generation Kagi Shrine is undertaken in two phases with the construction of the upper shrine completed first. The inauguration of the shrine was held shortly after on June 13th.

    • 1943 (昭和18年) - In the second stage of construction, the lower section of the shrine, which included the Shrine Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ) and Priest’s Hall (齋館 / さいかん), was completed on August 9th.

    • 1944 (昭和19年) - Kagi Shrine is upgraded into a Minor National Level Shrine (國幣小社 / こくへいしょうしゃ), one of only three shrines in Taiwan to achieve such a rank in the pre-war shrine ranking hierarchy.

    • 1945 (昭和20年) - The Second World War comes to a conclusion and Japan is forced to surrender control of Taiwan. Shortly thereafter, Chiayi Park is renamed “Zhongshan Park” (中山公園).

    • 1949 (民國38年) - Chiang Kai-Shek (蔣介石) and the Republic of China government retreat to Taiwan, bringing with them several million refugees displaced by the Chinese Civil War. Kagi Shrine is converted in the Chiayi Martyrs Shrine (嘉義忠烈祠), and the lower offices are converted into a Military Hospital (八二八醫院).

    • 1987 (民國76年) - The Military Hospital hands over ownership of the Shrine Office and Priest’s Hall Buildings to the Chiayi City Government. However, due to wear and tear, the buildings are in desperate need of restoration. The Department of Architectural Design of the National Cheng-Kung University (成功大學) in Tainan is contracted to come up with plans for the faithful restoration of the buildings.

    • 1992 (民國81年) - The charitable division of the Cathay Life Insurance Company donates NT$5 million for the restoration of the buildings.

    • 1993 (民國82年) - The Chiayi City Historical Relics Museum (嘉義市史蹟資料館) is officially established.

    • 1995 (民國84年) - Fire destroys the Main Hall of the shrine, which had been converted into the Chiayi Martyrs Shrine (嘉義忠烈祠). Later that year, plans are made to construct a tower on the site of the original shrine to help attract tourists to the city.

    • 1996 (民國85年) - With funds contributed from private enterprises, government subsidies and from the Chiayi City Government, restoration of the remnants of Kagi Shrine officially start. Later that year, Zhongshan Park is officially renamed Chiayi Park (嘉義公園), reflecting its history.

    • 1997 (民國87年) - While the tower was still undergoing construction, the Second Generation Chiayi Martyrs Shrine was officially opened in the basement of the tower.

    • 1998 (民國88年) - The Chiayi Tower, otherwise known as the “Sun-Shooting Tower” (射日塔) on the grounds of where the Main Hall of the shrine once stood is completed and opened to the public. The remnants of Kagi Shrine are officially listed as Chiayi City Municipal Monuments (嘉義市市定古蹟) in order to ensure that funding is available for their upkeep and protection.

    • 2001 (民國91年) - Restoration on the Shrine’s Main Office and the Purification Hall is completed and are opened to the public as the Chiayi City Historical Relics Museum (嘉義市史蹟資料館) takes up residence within the two buildings.

Remaining Sections of the Shrine

What remains of the First Generation Shrine's Hall of Worship.

In this section, I’m going to take some time to introduce the sections of the shrine that remain today, and as usual, aspects of their architectural design. Certainly, while what’ll you encounter in Chiayi Park today is not nearly as complete as the Taoyuan Shrine (桃園神社), but the elements that do remain are quite well-preserved, and even though much has changed, the layout of the shrine has essentially remained the same for the past eight decades.

Not every aspect of the shrine requires an in-depth introduction, so I’ll probably spend the most time on the two largest buildings that remain on-site as they’ve been expertly restored, and if you’re in the area, you should definitely take some time to visit. When it comes to the restoration of the shrine, most of the attention has been given to the administrative buildings that were part of the shrine, which today make up the Showa 18 Relic Museum (嘉義市史蹟資料館), which I’ll also introduce below.

If you visit today, you’ll find several smaller aspects of the shrine that have been preserved and are put on display in addition to offering some pretty interesting information about the history of Chiayi.

Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう)

One of the most complete remnants of the historic shrine is its ‘Visiting Path’, which may not seem like a lot, given that most would just consider it a pathway from the entrance that led to where the shrine once stood, but the fact that it hasn’t been altered over the years is relatively amazing.

At a Shinto Shrine, a 'Visiting Path,’ known in Japanese as the “sando” (參道 / さんどう) is an integral part of the layout of any shrine, and, well yeah, is essentially just a pathway that leads visitors to the shrine. While these paths serve a functional purpose, they are also quite symbolic in that the ‘path’ is also the route you take on the road to spiritual purification. If you weren’t already aware, ’Shinto’ is literally translated as the “Pathway to the Gods” (神道), so having a physical pathway leading the worshiper from the realm of the profane to that of the sacred is quite important. 

The average length of a shrine’s Visiting Path’s tends to vary based on the size of the shrine, but what always remains true is that you’ll find stone lanterns (石燈籠 / しゃむしょ), shrine gates (鳥居 / とりい) and stone guardians (狛犬 / こまいぬ) along the path.

As mentioned above, the shrine was originally home to three shrine gates, one cement, and two constructed of wood, each of which constructed in the Myojin-style (明神鳥居), one of the most common styles of shrine gate currently used in Japan today. In this particular style of design, there are double lintels with the top curving upwards. Between each, it’s likely that there would have been a plaque that had the name of the shrine inscribed horizontally. Today, none of the original shrine gates are left standing along the Visiting Path, but a Chinese-style cement ‘Pailou Gate’ (牌樓) has been constructed for the Martyrs Shrine, and even though its completely different, its still quite nice.

The next common feature of a Visiting Path are the stone lanterns that are lined symmetrically along both sides. One again, its quite amazing that there are so many of the original lanterns remain standing in their original location, and what’s even more amazing is that the date of their donation, which is always inscribed horizontally along the base, remains clear.

The reason I find this amazing is that in most cases, the stone lanterns that remain from Taiwan’s Shinto Shrines have all had their dates scratched out or vandalized. In this case, however, it looks like they were never touched, and not only do they feature the dates, but also the individuals or the organizations who originally donated them. One of the interesting things about the lanterns in this case is that most of them date back to the Taisho Era (大正), which means that they were part of the First Generation Shrine.

Finally, one of the other more notable aspects of a Visiting Path are the stone guardians that are placed along the path to symbolically guard the shrine. Known in Japan as ‘komainu’ (狛犬/こまいぬ), these stone guardians are part of a tradition thought to have been passed on to Japan from Korea, which is why they’re also often referred to as “Korean Dogs” (高麗犬), referring to the ancient Korean Kingdom of “Koguryo” (高麗國).

Although there can be exceptions to the rule, the lion-dogs generally appear as a pair and are placed on either side of a Visiting Path or at the entrance to a shrine. Often appearing as a male and female, they are only distinguishable only by their facial expressions, with the male “a-gyo” (阿型) having an open mouth and the female “un-gyo” (吽形) having a closed mouth. The male komainu in the traditional set has its mouth open with a stone ball between its teeth while the other set looks as if he’s smiling awkwardly with its mouth open.

Link: Komainu Lion Dogs (Japan Visitor)

In this case, there are only two remaining of the original three sets of stone guardians at the shrine, one at the entrance, and one at the mid-section of the Visiting Path. The set that disappeared would have been placed at the entrance to the Main Hall, which burnt down several decades ago. The two remaining sets are known simply as the ‘large guardians’ (大狛犬) and the ‘small guardians’ (小狛犬), but what that doesn’t tell you however is that they were designed in completely different styles, and were dedicated at different times. Records indicate that the remaining pairs or guardians date back to the First Generation Shrine, but since the dates have been vandalized. So, based on their size and the information we have about them, its safe to say that the large set at the entrance to the park were donated in 1928 (昭和3年), while the smaller pair were donated in 1922 (大正11年).

The interesting thing is that the smaller set were crafted in the exact same style as the remaining pair of guardians at the ruins of the Keelung Shinto Shrine. The larger pair on the other hand were crafted to look similar to the guardians from the Taiwan Grand Shrine (臺灣神宮) in Taipei.

Another notable fact about the smaller set is that they were crafted in such a manner that they appear similar to the design of Taiwanese-style guardians that you’ll find at temples across the country, which (its assumed) is part of the reason why they have remained so safe from vandalism.

Link: 狛犬――連結臺灣與日本,日常生活裡的藝術雕塑 (Nippon)

Note: Interestingly, during my research about the Kagi Shrine and its komainu, I came across some interesting resources that introduced a theory about the history of the construction of stone-guardians, like these, in Taiwan. The article, linked above, explains that from the Qing Dynasty, blacksmiths were banned in Taiwan due to the amount of rebellions and uprisings that took place. When the Japanese arrived, there weren’t any resources available that could aid in the construction of the ‘guardians' for all the shrines that were being constructed around the island. Thus, it’s theorized that the reason why so many of the older guardians look so similar is due to the fact that they were all imported directly from Yamaguchi Prefecture (山口縣), west of Tokyo, or were sculpted by craftsmen from the area.

The theory is given more credence by the fact that several of Taiwan’s Governor Generals originally hailed from Yamaguchi, as were most of the craftsmen who came to Taiwan to assist in the construction of bridges, such as the famed Meiji Bridge (明治橋) in Taipei, which was constructed with stone imported directly from Yamaguchi.

Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずしゃ)

Located on the left side of the Visiting Path opposite the Administration Office, you’ll find what is known as the Purification Fountain, an essential addition to any Shinto Shrine. Like the Visiting Path, the fountain is sure to appear at any shrine you visit as it marks another important philosophical aspect to Shintoism, which is referred to as “hare and ke” (ハレとケ), or the "sacred-profane dichotomy."

One of the main methods of marking the visitor’s journey from the sacred to the profane, is that for anyone crossing the barrier into the ‘sacred realm,’ they should do so in the cleanliest possible manner. This is achieved by symbolically performing a purification ritual at the chozuya (ちょうずしゃ) or temizuya (てみずしゃ) provided. The shrine was originally set up in the ‘upper’ and ‘lower’ layer, and you’ll notice that as the Visiting Path continues past the Purification Fountain, there is a set of stairs that that you walk up to reach the ‘upper’ section. The second shrine gate was originally located at the top of the stairs, and would have marked the entrance into the sacred part of the shrine.

The Purification Fountain that remains on-site today is the original, and was completed in 1945 (昭和20年). The fountain itself is a simple octagonal-shaped stone fountain inscribed with the words “Donated by members of the Chiayi Civil Engineering Group in October of 1942” (奉獻 昭和十七年十月 嘉義土木建築請員業組合員一同). The top of the fountain has a stone plate where a long wooden ladle, known as a ‘hishaku’ (柄杓 / ひしゃく) was placed for worshippers to take part in the purification ritual mentioned above. Hanging from the roof above the fountain, you’ll find an instruction board where the purification process is detailed.

In order to protect the sacred water in the fountain, a pavilion was constructed to cover it, and as is the case at most shrines of this size, extra care was taken to construct a beautiful space. The fountain was constructed on a cement base and the four pillars that prop up the massive roof of the pavilion are also cemented into the base to ensure the stabilization of the roof. Both the pillars and the roof were constructed entirely of cypress from nearby Alishan. The roof was constructed with the flowing two-sided symmetrical kirizuma-zukuri-style (切妻造 / きりづまづくり), the weight of which is propped up by both the four pillars and a network of trusses that connect to the pillars.

The roof itself is quite decorative in that both of the gable ends feature what is known as ‘Gegyo' (懸魚 / げぎょ), which are decorative wooden boards shaped to look like a hanging fish, and are used as a charm against fire, similar to porcelain dragons on Taiwanese temples. The top of the roof is covered in a variety of black roof tiles, most of which I’ll explain below, but the mixture of flat tiles, cylindrical tiles and end tiles used to keep everything in place. It’s an extremely complex mixture that will kind of blow your mind if you take some time to look closely and appreciate that there are likely a thousand or more individual pieces locked in together.

Resting Pavilion (參集所)

While visiting the park, I had assumed that this ‘Resting Pavilion’ was something that was constructed well after the Japanese-era had ended, but it was in fact an original part of the shrine that has been changed a few times in the years since. The interesting thing about this so-called ‘Resting Pavilion’ is that it isn’t something common at shrines in Japan, but was likely something that was added due to the tropical climate in Chiayi.

Located on the same side as the Purification Fountain, across from the Administration Office, the pavilion was a space where people could get some shade from the afternoon sun instead of waiting for family and friends in spaces where they’d exposed to the heat.

All that remains of the original pavilion is the cement base and the cement pillars that helped to prop up the original roof. The current roof is something that has been renovated at some point and features steel beams and trusses that help to support a two-sided kirizuma-like roof. It’s safe to assume that the original roof of the building would have appeared similar in its decorative elements to that of the Purification Fountain, but it’s currently covered by iron sheets and on the ends, you’ll find some iconography akin to the decorative elements you’d find at a post-war military village, meant to signify the Republic of China, or its military.

Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ)

The two buildings that have come to personify what remains of Kagi Shrine are the beautiful Administration Office and the Priests Hall, two large, and very traditionally constructed spaces that are directly connected with each other. The buildings have been beautifully restored, and both the exterior and the interior are well-maintained, and are well worth the modest entrance fee for a visit.

Working together in unison, the buildings were originally used for a number of purposes. First and foremost, it was a space where the shrine’s priests, priestesses, and other staff would rest while they weren’t busy performing their duties. They were also a space where the administrative aspects of the shrine were taken care of in addition to offering space where special events or ceremonies could be held. While the interior of the buildings would have been mostly off-limits to the average visitor, they also offered space for people who might have had any special requests for prayers or rites.

In Japan, the ‘Administration Office’ is more commonly known as a ‘shamusho’ (社務所 / しゃむしょ), and are probably best known for featuring what is known as a ‘Public Counter’ (授与所 / じゅよじょ), which is like a gift shop where visitors can ‘receive' (purchase) shrine branded tokens and amulets. However, looking at the floor plan and the design of the buildings, it’s highly unlikely that this was the case at the Kagi Shrine. So, if there were one of these gift shops at the shrine, it would probably have been located in a separate building nearby, or closer to the shrine. Completed in 1943, the buildings were part of the second phase of construction of the Second Generation Shrine, officially opening a year after the rest of the shrine.

Given that the Japanese had learned their lesson with regard to the construction of wooden buildings in Taiwan, both of the buildings were constructed on a cement base with sixty centimeter-long pedestals propping them off of the ground, offering protection from earthquakes as well as all the termites, which happily feasted upon the First Generation Shrine.

This time, in addition to the cement base, both of the buildings were constructed with a mixture of brick and cypress from the nearby mountains, and the walls in the interior feature the genius insulation method of combining bamboo and mud (編竹夾泥牆), something that the Japanese came up with as an answer to Taiwan’s tropical climate.

Officially, the buildings were constructed in the irimoya-zukuri (入母造 / いりもやづくり) style of architectural design, but within that particular style there are several off-shoots, and more specifically, in this case the ‘Shoin-zukuri’ (書院造/しょいんづくり) style of design was used for the layout of the interior of the buildings. Originally a style of design that was used for the construction of mansions, temple halls or the residences for Buddhist priests, the architectural style has become the foundation for the design of most of the traditional residential buildings in Japan today. The term ‘shoin’ (書院), translates literally as a ‘study’ or a place for lectures, and although its origins come from the construction of Buddhist temples, it is essentially a style of building characterized by tatami mats, aisles and sliding doors that open up to partitions.

Given that it’s an off-shoot of the irimoya style, one of the most important things to keep in mind is that the base of the building, known literally as the ‘mother’s house’ (母屋), is considerably smaller than the roof above, which means that the architectural design within the interior of the buildings features a network of pillars and trusses that assist in supporting and stabilizing the weight of the roof, which in both cases is absolutely beautiful.

While not as complex or as intricate in design as the roof of the shrine’s more sacred buildings, the roof that was constructed on both of these buildings was designed in the two-sided kirizuma-zukuri (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) style of design, with beautiful gable-ends, and is covered with black tiles (黑瓦). Adding complexity to the roofs, both buildings feature a ‘covered-front porch’, known in Japan as a ‘karahafu porch’ (唐破風), an addition that draws its inspiration from the architecture of the Tang Dynasty, and is something that remains quite popular in Japan. The ‘'porch’ essentially protrudes from the front of the kirizuma roof, but features a separate four-sided roof of its own, supported by four pillars in front of the main doors, adding a three-dimensional or ‘flowing’ element to the design.

Facing outward from the front of the porch, is a triangular gable known as a chidori-hafu (千鳥破風/ちどりはふ), which has a 'hanging fish’ decoration at the tip, and a decorative onigawara (鬼瓦 / おにがわら) tile at the top. This may not mean very much to the average reader, but it shows that an incredible amount of care, and money, were spent to ensure that these buildings stood out in their decorative design.

Apart from the porch, there are a number of decorative elements on the roof that also play integral functional elements, protecting it from rain, and keeping everything in place. While they are (for the most part) considered common elements found on the roofs of more formal Japanese-style buildings, and would have also been included on the roof of the shrine, these two buildings, the Purification Fountain, as well as the Ritual Storage Building (which I’ll introduce below) are the only sections of the shrine that remain where you’ll find them all in one place.

Those decorative elements are as follows:

  • Hiragawara (平瓦 /ひらがわら) - a type of arc-shaped clay roofing tile.

  • Munagawara (棟瓦 /むながわらあ) - ridge tiles used to cover the apex of the roof.

  • Onigawara (鬼瓦 / おにがわら) - ornamental ridge-end tiles that are used to symbolize protection.

  • Nokigawara (軒瓦/のきがわら) - the roof tiles placed along the eaves lines.

  • Noshigawara (熨斗瓦/のしがわら) - thick rectangular tiles located under ridge tiles.

  • Sodegawara (袖瓦/そでがわら) - cylindrical sleeve tiles

  • Tsuma (妻/つま) - the triangular-shaped parts of the gable on the roof under the ridge.

  • Hafu (破風板/ はふいた) - bargeboards that lay flat against the ridge ends to finish the gable.

Although there have been some modern modifications to the buildings after the restoration work was completed, the interior space has been largely left the same. The original tatami mats have been removed, and replaced with hard-wood flooring. Similarly, modern lighting and air conditioning has been added, which is probably something the priests in 1943 would have loved to have access to given the heat of Chiayi’s summer days.

The space today, though, is divided up into exhibitions about the history of the shrine, so its difficult for the average visitor to fully understand the original layout of the building, but the displays offer some very detailed information about the various elements of the design.

That being said, one of the genius aspects of the design of buildings like this, especially since air conditioning hadn’t been invented yet, was that the windows in the building were specifically constructed to open up and allow fresh air into the building. The air circulation system included sliding windows panels at the rear of the building that could be completely opened as well as ventilation within the sliding panels within the interior.

It would have been hot within the buildings, but the design did its best to mitigate the sweltering tropical heat of Chiayi, something which I personally can’t endure for very long before I start to melt.

Ritual Storage Building (祭器庫 / さいきくら)

Even though this is just a simple storage building, it is still one of the highlights of what remains of the former Shinto Shrine. Among the remnants of Taiwan’s Shinto Shrines, you’ll find that this particular type of building is quite rare, and only here at the Chiayi Shrine will you find one in such great shape. While a ‘storage' building might sound rather unimportant, it is actually an integral part of the shrine, as it is a space where some really important objects, that were used for special occasions, were kept.

The most important of these objects would have been the shrine’s ‘mikoshi’ (神輿 / みこし), a specially-branded palanquin constructed especially for the shrine. The mikoshi would have been used to transport one of the kami whenever they came out during the annual ‘matsuri festival’ (祭 / まつり), which was held on October 28th every year in Chiayi.

In order to keep the mikoshi safe, the rectangular building was constructed with reinforced concrete in the traditional irimoya-zukuri (入母造 / いりもやづくり) architectural style mentioned earlier. Given that it was constructed with concrete, the base was easily able to stabilize the weight of the roof above, and also allowed for windows on three sides of the building.

In most cases, irimoya-style buildings make use of intricate hip-and-gable style roofs, but in this case, the roof was constructed with a simple, yet beautifully decorated two-sided kirizuma-zukuri-style (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) with gable-ends on the front and rear of the building.

First Generation Shrine Ruins (第一代嘉義神社殘跡)

Arguably one of the more important of the remaining sections of the shrine are the ruins of the First Generation Shrine, which was later used to house a separate set of kami. That being said, for most visitors, this is likely to simply appear as an uninteresting cement base, and probably don’t really understand the point or the purpose of what the ruins entail.

Personally, this is one of my favorite parts of the park as it shows the size of the First Generation Shrine.

Featuring the ruins of both the Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん) and the Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん), the park has constructed a wooden structure around the perimeter of the base where the larger Hall of Worship once stood while the Main Hall to the rear, which was elevated on a cement base remains in place.

The cement base of the Main Hall, which is well over a century old now is cracked, likely due to earthquake damage, but it otherwise remains in excellent condition. It’s a simple square-shaped pedestal that has a set of stairs in the front that would have allowed the shrine’s priests to approach the Main Hall that was placed on top. Currently, there is a barrier around it to keep people from crawling all over it as it is part of the protected heritage site.

Chiayi Park / Showa 18 Relic Museum (嘉義市史蹟資料館)

As mentioned earlier, Chiayi Park, originally known as ‘Kagi Park’, then renamed to Zhongshan Park, and finally changed back to its original name in 1996, is an expansive 268,000 square meter natural space within the confines of Chiayi City. The park features not only the ruins of the Shinto Shrine, but also the Chiayi Confucius Temple (嘉義孔廟), the Chiayi Martyrs Shrine (嘉義忠烈祠), the Sun-Shooting Tower (射日塔), the KANO baseball park, and the Chiayi Botanical Gardens (嘉義植物園). The trees in the park, most of which were planted during the Japanese-era are tall and beautiful, and there is always something taking place as it is popular with both the locals and tourists alike.

Currently located within the Administration Office and Priests Hall is the “Showa 18 Relic Museum,” which is split up into an exhibition space, and a coffee shop where visitors can enjoy some coffee, tea or afternoon snacks. The term “Showa 18” refers to the eighteenth year of Emperor Showa’s (better known in English as Hirohito) reign, coinciding with 1943 on the western calendar. Named for the year of the completion of the Second Generation Kagi Shrine, the museum features exhibitions about the shrine’s history, and features relics from the shrine that have been preserved over the years.

Within the buildings, you’ll also find a small shop that sells locally made products that celebrate the history of Chiayi, created to look like the kind of amulets that you’d purchase at a shrine in Japan, as well as a kimono rental service that is likely popular with instagrammers.

Residents of Chiayi can enter the museum free of charge, but the rest of us have to pay a 50NT admission fee to enter the buildings to check them out. The ticket price however can be used to discount anything that you purchase within the building, so if you want to have a drink, snack, or purchase one of the crafts inside, it’s not that bad. Even if you don’t purchase anything, I highly recommend going into the buildings to check them out. The museum section features some interesting exhibits, and the interior of the buildings are absolutely beautiful, and as mentioned above, have been wonderfully restored to their original condition.

Getting There

 

Address: #42 Gongyuan Street, East District, Chiayi City

嘉義市東區公園街42號

GPS: 23.481070, 120.467690

If you find yourself in Chiayi, one of the best ways to get around is to rent a scooter from one of the rental shops next to the train station. Renting a scooter, though, can sometimes be a hassle for international travelers, especially if you haven’t brought an International Drivers License along with you on your trip. So, if you’d like to make your way to Chiayi Park to check out the shrine, the Confucius Temple, or any of the other historic structures in or around the park, your best bet is to probably hop on a bus just outside of the Chiayi Train Station (嘉義車站).

Bus

In recent years, Chiayi City has upgraded its bus network into a “BRT” (Bus Rapid Transport) system similar to the one in used in Taichung. The new system has replaced all of the old Chiayi Bus (嘉義公車) routes that used to exist. So, if you’ve looked at other resources online that haven’t been updated, you might find yourself a bit confused about how to get around.

From Chiayi Station, you’ll want to hop on either Bus #7211 or Bus #7212, both of which travel a square-like route through the city center.

Link: Chiayi BRT Bus #7211 and 7212 Route Map (嘉義客運) | Map and Schedule

You also have the option of hopping on the Taiwan Tour Bus (台灣好行) #0715 from the station, but it comes much less frequently than the other two.

Youbike

If you can’t get access to a rental scooter, never fear, the weather in Chiayi is great year-round and the city has a large number of Youbike Stations where you can pick up a bicycle and drop it off. If you’re setting off from the train station, there is a Youbike station directly to left of the entrance. From there, you can make your way to Chiayi Park on your bike, riding straight down Chungshan Road (中山路) to the park, or whatever route you prefer. There are at least four Youbike stations surrounding the park, so you’ll be able to easily drop the bike off when you need to.

Apart from that, if you don’t feel like taking a bus, or riding a Youbike across town, you always have the option of grabbing a taxi at the train station. A trip to the park won’t be too expensive, and once you’re there, you’ll be able to walk to a few other destinations that are close by.

If you find yourself in Chiayi, you’ll find that there are a large number of historic destinations to experience, and the ruins of the Kagi Shrine are just one that you’ll find conveniently located within the Chiayi Park. You may not think that visiting a park is worth your precious travel time, you may not also think that the ruins of a Shinto Shrine are all that important, but when it comes to the history and the development of Chiayi City as we know it today, the shrine, played a pretty important role.

If you’re looking for places to visit, the park is close to a number of historic destinations, and you’re also in luck because there are also a number of really great coffee shops surrounding the perimeter, where you’ll be able to take a break from the sun. Obviously this is a destination that is my kind of thing, but since Chiayi really promotes its Japanese-era history for tourism, there’s probably no better place to visit than the shrine!

References

  1. Kagi Shrine | 嘉義神社 中文 | 嘉義神社 日文 (Wiki)

  2. Chiayi | 嘉義市 中文 | 嘉義市 日文 (Wiki)

  3. 嘉義街 | 嘉義郡 | 臺南州 (Wiki)

  4. 台灣神社列表 (Wiki)

  5. 嘉義公園 (Wiki)

  6. Shrine Architecture | 神社建築 中文 | 神社建築 日文 (Wiki)

  7. Modern system of ranked Shinto shrines | 近代社格制度 (Wiki)

  8. 原嘉義神社暨附屬館所 (國家文化資產網)

  9. 嘉義神社與參道外貌 (國家文化記憶庫)

  10. 臺灣日治時期地方政府廳舍建築 (Wiki)

  11. 嘉義市市定古蹟原嘉義神社附屬館所調查研究 (嘉義市文化局)

Historic Photos

  1. 臺灣國定古蹟編纂研究小組 (Facebook)

  2. 臺灣の神社遺跡 (Facebook)

  3. 帝國の臺灣 (Facebook)

  4. Geomosa (Facebook)

  5. 嘉義神社與參道外貌 (國家文化記憶庫)


Ogon Shrine (黃金神社)

Writing as extensively as I do about the history of Taiwan’s Japanese colonial era, I’ve been asked several times over the years why I’ve yet to publish anything about the remnants of the ‘Golden Shrine’ near the popular tourist town of Jiufen (九分). Given that I’ve written about a handful of the other shrines that remain (in some form) in Taiwan, as well as publishing articles about Stegosaurus Ridge (劍龍稜) and the Teapot Mountain (無耳茶壺山) hikes - which offer up a birds eye view of the shrine - its understandable that one might wonder why I haven’t covered what has arguably become one of Taiwan’s most well-known Shinto Shrines.

Like most people, I eagerly paid a visit to the Golden Museum (黃金博物館) in Jinguashi (金瓜石) shortly after it’s official opening. However, that visit came shortly after I arrived in the country, and like most newbies, I didn’t really have much idea about what was going on. Thinking back, although I didn’t actually realize it at the time, that particular visit may have been my first experience exploring something related to the Japanese-era.

The popularity of the museum in its early days meant that the area was absolutely packed with tourists on weekends, and as the shrine was an important part of any visit to the area, it was also a pretty popular spot. At that time though, photography was more or less just a hobby for me, and to tell the truth, I was mesmerized by the mountains, so I didn’t didn’t pay all that much attention to the shrine.

I did end up visiting once again several years later, but on that occasion, the shrine was just a short detour on a hike through the mountains, so I just stopped by for a quick minute before continuing further up the trail. That, unfortunately would have been my best opportunity to get the photos I needed, but I missed out, which is something I’ve regretted for quite a few years.

In 2017, the path to the shrine was gated shut and for the next five years it underwent a period of restoration, which helped to bring parts of the shrine (that were unscrupulously knocked down) back to life. It was also a project that saw the planting of hundreds of cherry trees, which in the future should make the shrine an even more popular spot for tourists.

All of that being said, I’m actually relieved that I didn’t write about the shrine after my second visit. By that time I had been in Taiwan for several years, but the amount of knowledge I had accumulated with regard to Taiwan’s history, the Japanese-era, and Shinto Shrines was no where near what I accumulated now after years of research and experience writing about these things. Thus, the information I’m able to provide readers with today will comprehensively combine the history of the shrine, the community that surrounds it, and its architectural design.

Closed for half a decade, the Golden Shrine reopened to the public in late 2022, and its reemergence has been an important catalyst for attracting tourists back to the Golden Museum, once again becoming a popular spot for all of the loal Instagrammers looking for a fresh location to take photos!

However, even though most people are quite content that the shrine has finally been reopened, there has also been some criticism in some circles regarding the length of time that the shrine was closed. More specifically, critics have openly questioned why the shrine wasn’t completely restored to its original likeness, similar to how the Luye Shinto Shrine (鹿野神社) in Taitung was brought back to life.

Personally, I find myself relatively content with the work that has been done to restore the shrine (minus a few minor gripes), and I’m not particularly sure why anyone would want to restore it to its original condition. As a ‘ruined’ site, the shrine allows us to experience a piece of Taiwan’s modern history, but also provides a lesson as to the effort to erase memories of the Japanese-era in the half-century since the Second World War came to an end.

I’d also argue that it would be relatively pointless to completely reconstruct the shrine if they weren’t going to invite the ‘kami’ to return, something that might be a touchy subject in certain circles. Instead, I’m content that there are a number of well-preserved historic photos of the shrine that allow us to see how it would have originally appeared during the Japanese-era, some of which I’ll be sharing with you today.

As I move on, I’m going to start with an introduction of the history of the shrine, and the Jinguashi gold mines. I’ll then follow with a brief timeline of events, and then I’ll provide details about the shrine’s architectural design, so that you can better understand what you’ll see if and when you visit.

Now that the shrine has been reopened, visitors to Taiwan have a ‘golden’ opportunity (forgive the pun) to visit this amazing piece of Taiwanese history. Making that golden opportunity even more attractive is that any visit to the area can may also include with a number of other popular tourist destination including Jiufen Old Street (九份老街), the Golden Waterfall (黃金瀑布), the Gold Museum (黃金博物館), or any of the hiking trails on the mountains nearby. A day-trip, or even a weekend trip to the area is a rewarding one, and is something that every tourist visiting Taiwan does at least once!

Ogon Shrine (黃金神社 / おうごんじんじゃ)

Over the span of Taiwan’s fifty year Japanese colonial era, there were about two hundred Shinto Shrines constructed around the island. The first of them was the Kaizan Shinto Shrine (開山神社/かいざんじんじゃ) in Tainan, which just so happened to be established on the the original site of the Yanping King Shrine (延平郡王祠). The Chinese-style temple had originally honored the pirate-king Koxinga (鄭成功), but if we’re being picky, the first shrine constructed in Taiwan was technically the Ogon Shrine, located on the northern coast of the island.

Whether it was the ‘first’ or the ‘second’ shrine in Taiwan probably isn’t all that important, but as one of Taiwan’s earliest Shinto Shrines, it has a history that dates back more than 125 years - but I can’t really explain the history of the shrine to you without first providing some basic information about the area where it was constructed, who constructed it, and why it was constructed, because all of these things are very much linked together.

Links: Fairy Cave Temple, Keelung Shrine, Taoyuan Shrine, Luye Shrine, Hualien Shrine, Taitung Shrine, Tamsui Shrine, Yilan Shrine, Yuanshan Shrine, Tungxiao Shrine, Kaizan Shrine

When the Japanese arrived in Taiwan in 1895, it’s safe to say that the situation they were confronted with was pretty hostile - The fleeing Qing forces did their best to sabotage and slow down efforts to take administrative control of the island, and the local inhabitants put up quite a bit of resistance as well. Even worse was the environment, which in the end did the most harm to the Japanese armed forces who were met with deadly foes named malaria, pneumonia, dysentery, cholera and smallpox.

By 1897, the government established ‘Taihoku-ken’ (臺北縣 / たいほくけん), an administrative space that encompassed what we know today as New Taipei, Taipei, Keelung, Taoyuan, Hsinchu and Yilan, in an effort to get the island’s major settlements under some kind of control.

Looking to take control of the island’s rich natural resources, in 1896, the colonial government passed the Taiwan Mining Regulations Act (台灣礦業規則), which limited the extraction of Taiwan’s minerals solely to Japanese nationals. One of the first areas allocated for mining operations was Keelung Mountain (雞籠山) on the island’s north coast.

The mountain was initially partitioned into different sections, with the eastern side leased out to Tanaka Choubee (田中長兵衛 / たなか ちょうべえ), who headed the Tanaka Group (田中組) and after about a year of preparation, mining started in the area in 1897, which by that time was known as Kinkaseki (金瓜石/きんかせき).

Note: Interestingly, the name ‘Jinguashi’ (金瓜石) only predated the Japanese era by about two years. Records indicate that around 1893, a farmer was exploring the area and discovered a gold nugget, which soon attracted a bunch of other people looking for gold. The nugget was reportedly the size of a melon, thus the name.

At its heart, Shintoism is a philosophy that promotes a quality of ‘oneness’ with the natural world, and respect for nature. That being said, Taiwan’s development required a considerable amount of natural resources, so when it came to mining, something that is destructive to the natural environment, it was important to also pay homage to the spirits of the mountain. Thus, in 1898 (明治31年), the first generation ‘Ogon Shrine’ (第一代黃金神社) was established by the Tanaka Group.

With nine pits excavated at the Kinkaseki Mines (金瓜山礦場), as mining efforts gradually went moved into the mountain, it was discovered that gold wasn’t the only treasure in the hills, but there was also vast amounts of silver, copper and sulfur. Eventually the Kinkaseki Mines would become one of the most important mining operations in the Japanese empire.

That being said, economic stagnation caused by the First World War drove the international value of raw materials down for the duration of the war. This created financial issues for the Tanaka Group, which ended up restructuring its business and selling its mining rights to the Tanaka Mining Company (田中礦業株式會社) in the 1920s. Then, about a decade later, due to a lack of capital, the land lease was sold off to the Nippon Mining Company (日本鑛業株式會社), which officially changed its name to the Taiwan Mining Company (台湾鉱業株式会社) in 1933 (昭和8年).

Looking at historic photos of the shrine, one thing you might notice is that at some point the architectural design changed completely - Even though there are only a few remaining photos of the original shrine, what we can observe from them is that the shrine went from something that could be considered rather basic to a replication of one of Japan’s oldest and most important Shinto Shrines, the Ise Grand Shrine (伊勢神宮 / いせじんぐう).

Said to be about two-thousand years old, the architectural design of the Ise Grand Shrine is one that constantly changes. Known in Japan as ‘Yuitsu-shinmei' (唯一神明造 / ゆいいつしんめいづくり), is an ancient architectural style that imitates early rice granaries. The important thing to remember here is that the word ‘yuitsu’ (唯一) translates literally as ‘only’ or ‘unique’ which means that the Grand Shrine is the only place of worship that is permitted to use this style today. Thus, the Ogon Shrine, like many other Shinto Shrines across Japan, uses a variation known as ‘shinmei' (神明造 / しんめいづくり) design.

The reason I’m bringing this up this now is because the Ise Shrine, and other shrines that make use of the ‘shinmei’ design, often appear relatively new (despite their age), due to the fact that important sections of the shrine are reconstructed every few decades, which I’ll explain in more detail later.

Link: Ise Grand Shrine (Wiki)

When the Taiwan Mining Company took control of the Kinkaseki Mines in the early 1930s, they put forward an expansion project that would see the reconstruction of the shrine’s Hall of Worship. The Second Generation Ogon Shrine (第二代黃金神社) opened in 1936 (昭和11年), after a period of reconstruction, marking an important occasion for the local community, which was, to say the least, thriving at the time. Nevertheless, given that time frame and the relatively short lifespan of shrines that make use of this architectural style, it was likely due for another face lift in the mid-1950s, something that would ultimately would never take place.

Interestingly, the three deities, or ‘kami’ (神 / かみ), that were enshrined at the Golden Shrine differed somewhat from those that you would have typically encountered at the other shrines across Taiwan, but with more than a million ‘kami’, you would have obviously come across a wide variety of figures in the two-hundred shrines that were constructed around the country.

Keeping in mind that Shintoism was more or less a ‘foreign’ religion to the people of Taiwan, in the early days of the colonial era, the Japanese tended to enshrine deities that were easily identifiable with the people of Taiwan. This effort could be interpreted as a means to ease the people into their new state religion, or it could have just been a reflection of the situation on the island at the time, but the kami that became the most common at shrines in Taiwan shared similarities with the folk religion deities that people here identified with.

The Three Deities of Cultivation (開拓三神 / かいたくさんじん), for example, became quite common within Taiwan’s Shrines as they were deities known for their skills with regard to ‘nation-building’, ‘farming’, ‘business’ and ‘medicine’. Even though it is also common to find shrines dedicated in their honor back in Japan, they were especially important in Taiwan due to what they represented, which shared parallels with the Earth God (土地公 / 福德正神), who remains one of the most important religious figures in Taiwan today.

That being said, the ‘kami’ that became the most common within Taiwan’s shrines would have been housed within the larger places of worship, which focused more on the general public, such as the Taoyuan Shinto Shrine (桃園神社). Shrines like the Golden Shrine in contrast were a bit more flexible with the deities who were invited to take up residence. That flexibility allowed them to focus more on themes that were important with regard to the environment, local economy and the community living in the area.

To give you an example, the kami that was enshrined at the Taipei Water Shrine, known today as the Yuanshan Shinto Shrine (圓山水神社), was one who focused on water. Thus, as you can imagine, at the Golden Shrine, the deities would have focused on mining and facets of the environment.

The three kami that were enshrined at the Golden Shrine were:

  1. Ōkuninushi (大國魂大神 / おおくにたまのかみ)

  2. Kanayamahiko (金山毘古神 (金山彦命 / かなやまひこのかみ)

  3. Sarutahiko (猿田彥大神 / さるたひこのかみ)

Starting with ‘Okuninushi-no-Kami’, one of ‘three deities of cultivation’ mentioned above, he is regarded as the god of nation-building, agriculture, medicine and protection. The next figure, one of the ‘Great Deities’ (大神) of Shintoism, ‘Sarutahiko Okami’, is the leader of the kunitsukami (国つ神), or the ‘gods of the earth’. Finally ‘Kanayamahiko-no-kami', is the god of mines.

As you can see, in each of these three cases, the selection of deities speaks to the specialized focus of the shrine with regard to its focus on the land and the mines on the mountains that surrounded it.

Note: I should probably also point out that each of these three deities are quite old and are the subject of myths and legends detailed in the Kojiki (古事記 / こじき) and the Nihon Shoki (日本書紀 / にほんしょき), which date back to the early 8th Century. Thus, they share a relationship with the origins of the earth, the islands that make up Japan, and the mythical ancestry of kami that were spawned from Izanagi and Izanami.

Coincidentally, the shrine’s annual matsuri festival (祭 / まつり) was conveniently held on June 28th, which just so happened to be the same date as Jiufen’s annual Mazu Pilgrimage (媽祖遶境), making the date a pretty important one for the people of Jiufen and Jinguashi, and was one where all the laborers and students were given a day off of work to celebrate.

Matsuri time at the Golden Shrine

Segueing back into the shrine’s history, when the Japanese-era came to an end in 1945 (民國34年), mining operations at Jinguashi were put on hold for a short time until the Chinese Nationalists were able to figure out how to get production back online. In 1946, the Taiwan Gold and Copper Office (臺灣金銅鑛籌備處) was established by the government in order to restructure mining operations on the island. Much of Jinguashi’s wealth ended up being dedicated to funding the Nationalists (futile) effort to defeat the Communists in the Chinese Civil War (國共內戰).

When Chiang Kai-Shek’s Nationalist Government fled to Taiwan, bringing with them almost two million refugees, life on the island changed almost overnight, and over the next several decades the Taiwanese people would have to endure what would become one of the world’s longest periods of Martial Law, known locally as the White Terror Period (白色恐怖).

Over the next few decades, Taiwan’s new inhabitants exhibited a considerable amount of anti-Japanese sentiment, and it was during that time that the vast majority of buildings that were related to Japanese culture or religion were vandalized, torn down, or replaced.

Constructed on the side of a mountain.

You could probably argue that the saving grace when it came to the Golden Shrine was that it was constructed on the remote side of a mountain, so unlike the majority of Taiwan’s other shrines, it was never really in any danger of getting in the way of development. That being said, the shrine did fall victim to vandalism over the years, leaving the site in ruins. Going back to a point I made earlier though, it is unclear as to whether or not the main parts of the shrine were vandalized or if they just suffered from lack of up-keep.

Nevertheless, several decades after the war ended, natural resources within Jinguashi’s mines were more or less depleted, and with the decrease in the international market value of copper, the Taiwan Mining Corporation was ultimately forced to declare bankruptcy.

Then, in what may come across as a very random decision, the Taiwan Power Corporation (臺灣電力公司) took ownership of the land in 1985 (民國74年), but not much could be done on their part to save the business operations, so mining in Jinguashi came to an abrupt end in 1987 (民國76年), leaving not only the shrine in ruins, but the entire mining community abandoned.

If we then fast forward to the turn of the new millennium, the Golden Shrine was selected as one of the top ten heritage sites in Taipei County - and even though it was simply an abandoned and ruined shrine, it was ranked on the list of one-hundred most important historical sites in Taiwan.

Like the shrine, the mining community fell into disrepair, but due to its historic value, the Taiwan Power Company in conjunction with the Taiwan Sugar Corporation and the Taipei County Government (Currently New Taipei City) jointly funded a restoration project to reopen the mining community as the ‘Jinguashi Gold Museum’ (黃金博物館).

Link: For some great photos of the shrine prior to its restoration, check out this article: Ōgon Shrine from Spectral Codex.

Shortly thereafter, the Golden Shrine was recognized as a protected heritage site (直轄市定古蹟), and despite it still being under the ownership of the Taiwan Power Company, it was put under the operational control of the Gold Museum, and the government was tasked with coming up with plans to have it restored.

It took about a decade, but the restoration project for the shrine officially started in 2017, with the shrine closed to the public for the duration of the project, which ultimately lasted more than anyone expected.

Reopening to the public in late 2022, the Golden Shrine has reemerged as one of New Taipei’s most iconic tourist destinations, and its rebirth seems to be one that has been celebrated by quite a few people as it has become an Instagram hot spot with people from all over the country flocking to the area to check it out.

If all of that history was a little too much for you, before I start describing the architectural design of the shrine, as I mentioned earlier, I’ll provide a helpful, yet brief timeline of events regarding the shrine:

Timeline

  • 1895 (明治28年) - The Japanese take control of Taiwan at the end of the Sino-Japanese War with the signing of the Treaty of Shimonoseki (馬關條約 / 下関条約).

  • 1896 (明治29年) - The Colonial Government enacts the Taiwan Mining Regulations (台灣礦業規則) policy in an effort to standardize and start the extraction of the island’s resources.

  • 1897 (明治30年) - The Tanaka Group starts a mining operation in Kinkaseki / Jinguashi (金瓜石田中鑛山事務所).

  • 1898 (明治31年) - The First Generation Ogon Shrine (第一代黃金神社) is established by the mining company on a flat section of the mountain’s eastern cliffs (大金瓜岩嶂東).

  • 1905 (明治38年) - The first deposits of gold and silver are discovered at the mines in Jinguashi.

  • 1913 (大正2年) - The Tanaka group purchases the Mudan Mines (牡丹坑鑛) on the opposite side of the mountain and merges it with the Jinguashi Mine.

  • 1922 - A mansion is constructed within the Japanese section of the mining community in Jinguashi in anticipation for the royal tour of Taiwan by the crown prince. The tour never actually took place however due to the death of Emperor Taisho (大正皇帝) and the ascension of Emperor Showa (昭和皇帝) to the throne.

  • 1933 (昭和10年) - Ownership of the mines is transferred to the Nippon Mining Company (日本鑛業株式會社).

  • 1936 (昭和11年) - The Colonial Government’s “Japanization” or ‘forced assimilation’ Kominka (皇民化運動) policy comes into effect in Taiwan. The same year, the mining company expanded the shrine into the Second Generation Ogon Shrine (第二代黃金神社).

  • 1945 (昭和20年) - The Second World War comes to a conclusion and Japan is forced to surrender control of Taiwan.

  • 1946 (民國35年) - The Taiwan Gold and Copper Office (臺灣金銅鑛籌備處) is set up by the Nationalist government in order to restructure mining operations on the island.

  • 1949 (民國38年) - Chiang Kai-Shek (蔣介石) and the Nationalist government retreat to Taiwan, bringing with them several million refugees displaced by the Chinese Civil War. 

  • 1955 (民國44年) - Mining operations are restructured into the Taiwan Mining Corporation (臺灣金銅鑛物局).

  • 1973 (民國62年) - With gold, silver and copper resources drying up in the mountains, the mining company attempts open-pit mining, and shifts much of the operations on the mountain into smelting and the processing of copper.

  • 1985 (民國74年) - Due to declining resources in the mine and the decrease in the international market value of copper, the Taiwan Mining Corporation is forced to declare bankruptcy with the Taiwan Power Corporation (臺灣電力公司) taking ownership of the land.

  • 1987 (民國76年) - Mining operations in Jinguashi come to an end with all of the mines shut down.

  • 2000 (民國89年) - The Golden Shrine is selected as one of the top ten heritage sites in Taipei County and is ranked #94 on the list of a hundred historical sites in Taiwan.

  • 2004 (民國93年) - The Taipei County Government in conjunction with the Taiwan Power Company and Taiwan Sugar Corporation jointly open the ‘Gold Museum’ (黃金博物館) within the historic mining community and processing areas.

  • 2007 (民國96年) - The Golden Shrine is recognized as Taipei County (Currently New Taipei City) protected heritage site (直轄市定古蹟) with ownership of the site still controlled by Taiwan Power Corporation, the site is put under the management of the Gold Museum.

  • 2010 (民國99年) - The International Armistice Peace Memorial Park (國際終戰和平紀念園區) is established on the site of the infamous Kinkaseki Prisoner of War Camp (金瓜石米英捕虜勞役所).

  • 2017 (民國106年) - A long-planned restoration of the Golden Shrine gets underway in order to preserve the remnants of the abandoned shrine.

  • 2022 (民國111年) - Restoration of the shrine is completed and is officially re-opened to the public after being closed for five years.

Architectural Design

If you’ve ever had the opportunity to visit some shrines in Japan, you’re likely to have noticed that even though their architectural design may vary, but one of the things that remains the same in almost every case is in their their spatial design. The layout of the vast majority of shrines includes several important features that are meant to assist visitors on their road from the ‘profane’ to the ‘sacred.’

Obviously, the ‘sacred journey’ that each visitor embarks upon when they visit a shrine depends on how how much space was reserved for the construction of the shrine. This may come across as somewhat confusing, but when it comes to shrines and their size, the amount of land reserved for a shrine doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll find a large shrine, while on the other hand a lack of space doesn’t mean you’ll find a small shrine. So, even though the Ogon Shrine would have been considered a relatively small shrine in terms of the buildings you would have encountered, it benefited from being located on the side of a mountain, so a lack of space was never really an issue.

Unfortunately, as the shrine has been abandoned and in ruins for quite some time, many of its original pieces have been lost to time, which makes it difficult for most visitors to imagine what it would have originally appeared.

In this section, I’ll focus on the architectural design of the shrine and each of the important pieces that would have made it complete, which I hope helps anyone interested in visiting better understand what they’re experiencing when they visit the shrine today.

Original layout of the shrine from blueprints provided by the New Taipei City Bureau of Cultural Affairs.

For clarity sake, I’m breaking up each of these important pieces into their own section so that I can better introduce their purpose and aspects of their design. Some of this information might be considered too detailed for the average reader, so I’ll attempt to make it as painless as possible. 

Link: Architecture and Sacred Spaces in Shinto (Berkeley ORIAS)

The Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう)

The Visiting Path, otherwise known as the “sando” (さんどう), is one of the most important parts of the design of any Shinto Shrine. As mentioned above, the space reserved for a shrine tends to vary, but given that this shrine is located on a mountain, it is afforded a much longer Visiting Path than most of the other shrines that were constructed in Taiwan.

While these paths serve a functional purpose, they are also quite symbolic in that the “road” is the path that one takes on the road to spiritual purification. Shintoism itself is literally translated as the “Pathway to the Gods” (神道), so having a physical path that leads the worshiper from the realm of the profane to that of the sacred is quite important.

Traditionally, the Visiting Path to a Shinto Shrine is lined symmetrically on both sides with Stone Lanterns (石燈籠), known as ‘toro’ (しゃむしょ), and although some of the lanterns at the shrine have been destroyed, there are still several sets that remain today.

One of the things you’ll want to note about each of the lanterns is that the date that they were donated to the shrine is etched into the stone on the rear of the lantern’s base. Most of the lanterns at the shrine were vandalized at some point over the past half century, but we’re fortunate in that one of the sets is still legible, so we’re able to gather quite a bit of information about its origin. If you’re wondering why the dates would have been scratched out, the reason for this is that for the Japanese, instead of using the western calendar of years, their years are set according to the reigns of the emperors. All of the lanterns at the shrine would have predated the Republic of China’s arrival in Taiwan, so the dates were a reminder of Taiwan’s history that the Chinese Nationalists would have preferred to get rid of.

This is not the work of an artist.

In the case of this shrine, it was constructed in 1936, which was the eleventh year of Emperor Showa’s reign (昭和11年). As it is a habit of mine when identifying these things, I made sure to take a close look at all of the lanterns, and they’ve all been vandalized, but some less so than others.

The Shrine Gates (鳥居 / とりい) 

The Shrine Gates, otherwise known as a “torii," are not a completely foreign object here in Taiwan, as you’ll find that most large temples feature their own variation. Even though most of us in the west traditionally associate these gates as iconic images of Japan, the meaning of the gates here in Taiwan, and across Asia remains the same as once you pass through, you are thought to be crossing from the profane world - which is considered to be unclean, to a sacred place. In Japan, the presence of one (or more) of these gates is one of the simplest ways of identifying that there is a shrine nearby, and also one of the best ways to know that you’re approaching a Shinto Shrine rather than a Buddhist temple.

Note: In proper nomenclature, Shinto places of worship are referred to as ‘shrines’ (社) while Buddhist places of worship are better referred to as temples.

The Golden Shrine was originally home to three of these sacred gates, which stretched from the entrance to the Visiting Path to the inner space of the shrine. Unfortunately, today only two of them remain today.

Traditionally, in Japan, shrine gates are numbered, so this shrine would have had a first gate (一の鳥居) to the third gate (三の鳥居). Although information is somewhat limited with regard to the original design of the shrine, it’s likely that the two gates that remain today are the second and third gates.

The two that do that remain at the shrine today fortunately are the originals (although they’ve recently been restored), and were constructed out of concrete, which is probably why they’ve been able to last for so long.

Like the stone lanterns mentioned above, both of the gates would have featured dates and the names of the people who donated money for their construction, but they’ve all been scratched off, or filled in with cement.

If you visit, you’ll notice that the third gate features as ‘sacred rope’ which is known as a shimenawa (標縄 / しめなわ) hanging from the top. The rope was added back to the gate as part of the restoration effort.

The Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずや)

An important aspect of Shintoism is something known as “hare and ke” (ハレとケ), otherwise known as the "sacred-profane dichotomy." It is thought that once you pass through the shrine gate, which is considered the barrier between the ‘profane’ and the ‘sacred’, it is necessary to do so in the cleanest possible manner by symbolically purifying yourself at the chozuya (ちょうずしゃ), or temizuya (てみずしゃ) provided. A necessity at any Shinto Shrine, the purification fountain is an important tool for symbolically readying yourself for entrance into the sacred realm.

The architectural design of these fountains varies from very simply designed spaces to something that could be regarded as very elaborately designed. Unfortunately, all that remains of the original fountain was part of the base where there would have been water to perform the purification ritual.

As part of the recent restoration of the shrine, a replication of the original fountain’s covered space was added. Although I haven’t seen photos of the original fountain, what they added in the space is unlikely to resemble the original in both its design and the material used to construct it.

Where the replication does help out is that it provides tourists with a spot to protect themselves from the elements on rainy days (of which there are many in that particular area), as well as offering a spot to educate visitors about the history of the shrine with helpful information displays.

Banner Poles (五座旗幟台)

In recent years, some of the most iconic photos of Japan’s Shinto Shrines have been from places like Tokyo’s Nezu Shrine (根津神社 / ねづじんじゃ), where you’ll find hundreds of red Shrine Gates leading up to the shrine. Similarly, quite a few of Japan’s shrines make use of beautiful banners, known as ‘nobori’ (幟 / のぼり).

The long and narrow flags are brilliant in that they are attached to a pole that features a cross-rod at the top to hold the fabric, preventing the flags from furling around the rod. With somewhat of a long and complicated history in Japan, these flags (or banners) typically line the Visiting Path of a Shrine or a Buddhist Temple in great numbers, which can be quite beautiful.

Note: These days, if you visit Japan, you’re likely to also find them used outside of restaurants, for advertisements and for political advertisements, among other uses.

Of all of the historic photos I’ve seen of Taiwan’s historic Shinto Shrines, it seems like few of them used these banners in the way that they were at the Ogon Shrine. As a mountain shrine, the wind on the hill would have been perfect for these flags, adding to the aesthetics.

One of the more predominant features of any of the historic photos you’ll see of the shrine are the giant banners on bamboo poles, and even though the flags are long gone, five of their bases remain along the Visiting Path, and are most apparent next to where the second Shrine Gate once existed.

The Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん)

Known in Japan as the “haiden” (拜殿 /はいでん), for the vast majority of worshipers, it is the spiritual heart of the shrine, and given its importance, it was one of the most architecturally district buildings at the shrine.

Essentially the largest building within the ‘sacred’ space of the shrine, the Hall of Worship was an open space (no walls), with a covered roof propped up by the ten cylindrical columns you see standing there today.

Obviously, given that the shrine is in ruins, and the original building is long gone, it’s difficult for visitors imagine what the original building looked like, but the original columns remain perfectly in place.

As I mentioned earlier, the Second Generation Shrine was constructed with the ancient ‘shinmei-zukuri’  (神明造 / しんめいづくり) architectural design. What this means is that the large columns held up a kirizuma-style (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) gabled roof. Differing from what you’d typically see at larger Shinto Shrines, which feature hip-and-gable roofs, the original roof of the building would have consisted of two inclined surfaces on the front and back, which formed a ridge at the top.

Roofs of this design are essentially meant to resemble and open book, or the Chinese character ‘入’, which you should be able to understand from the diagram provided below.

General layout of shinmei-style architectural design

Considered to be one of the most ‘simplistic’ architectural styles that you’ll come across within the various styles of traditional Japanese architectural design, one of the interesting things about these shrines constructed is that they are generally rebuilt every two or three decades, adhering to the tradition of ‘shikinen sengu’ (神宮式年遷宮/じんぐうしきねんせんぐう), a ritual that provides for the constant renewal of its buildings.

More importantly, as the article linked below explains, the ritual plays a “very important role by enabling the transfer of (our) technical skill and spirit to the next generation. This transfer maintains both our architectural heritage and over 1,000 years of artistic tradition involving the making of the divine treasures.”

Link: [Soul of Japan] Shikinen Sengu, the Ritual of Rebuilding and Renewal (Japan Forward)

The rebuilding and renewal ritual is one that tends to vary between shrines, with some undergoing the process every eighteen to twenty-five years. In this case, the shrine was reconstructed in 1936, which means that it would possibly have been rebuilt again in 1961, 1986, and 2011.

With this in mind, even if the shrine wasn’t vandalized after the end of the Japanese-era, it very likely wouldn’t appear the same today as it would have back when the photos were taken in the late 1930s.

Speaking of those photos, one thing to note is that the roof featured katsuogi (鰹木/かつおぎ) and chigi (千木) ornaments on the top ridge. The katsuogi are long timber-like pieces of wood that rest on the flat base of the roof. While they might seem like a simple decorative element, they’re actually a pretty good indication of the kami that reside within, with an even number indicating a female divinity, while an odd number signifies a male. Taking a close look at the blurry old photos, there were five of them, signifying that the kami enshrined within were all male.

We already knew that, though.

With regard to the ‘chigi’, they can be cut either horizontally or vertically, known as uchi-sogi (内削ぎ) and soto-sogi (外削ぎ) respectively. How they’re cut likewise indicates the kami within, unfortunately, the photos of the Hall of Worship are far too blurry to see their design, but it’s safe to assume given what we know about the shrine that they were cut vertically.  

If you’d like see see both of these elements in action in another one of Taiwan’s historic shrines, I recommend taking a look at my article about Taitung’s Luye Shinto Shrine (鹿野神社).

Links: Shinmei-zukuri | Katsuogi | Chigi (Wiki)

Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん)

Last, but not least, it’s time to introduce the Main Hall, otherwise known as the “honden” (本殿/ほんでん), the most sacred part of any Shinto Shrine, and the home of the gods. 

Traditionally, the Main Hall is the area of a shrine that is off-limits to the general public, and would have only been accessible to the staff who resided at, or took care of the shrine. Obviously that’s not the case today as the building is gone and all that remains is its concrete base.

Located directly behind the Hall of Worship, the Main Hall of the shrine kept with the shinmei-zukuri style of architectural design. In this case however, the much smaller building was placed on an elevated cement base.

Interestingly, when taking a look at the historic photos of the shrine, the height of the Main Hall was altered between the first and second generation designs. So, in some of the photos that you’ll see of the shrine, the rear hall is much smaller than the Hall of Worship in front of it, but in others, it is about the same height.

I won’t spend too much time on the architectural design of the Main Hall as I’d just be repeating what I mentioned earlier - All that remains of the hall today is its original cement base, which is quite beautifully designed in its own right. The base is double-layered with a narrow set of stairs in the middle with pedestals for either stone lanterns or possibly ‘Lion-Dogs’, known in Japan as the komainu (狛犬/こまいぬ) on either side of the stairs.

Today, as you reach the top of the base where the wooden structure would have existed, you’ll find a large stone with the Kanji for ‘donated’ or ‘donation’ (奉納 / ほうのう). With these ‘donations’, they’re usually parts of the shrine, like the gates or the lanterns which were paid for through the donations of private individuals.

I can’t place where this stone in particular came from, but it’s possible that it was once part of the pedestal for one of the Lion-Dogs or the sacred cow that was originally located next to the sacred gate.

Interestingly, given that this was once a place of worship, locals have taken to placing monetary offerings (coins) on the stone as a show of respect to the former shrine, which is quite endearing, but given the amount of vandalism that took place here, it’s also sad that so much of the original shrine has been lost.

Getting There

 

Address: #8 Jinguang Road, Jinguashi, Ruifang District (新北市瑞芳區金瓜石金光路8號)

GPS: 121.85862°E 25.105006°N

There are several convenient methods that will help you get to the Golden Shrine, but for most tourists, the best (and easiest method of explaining to get there is to use the Gold Museum as a starting point.

For the more adventurous, you could always hike Stegosaurus Ridge, Teapot Mountain, or any of the other hiking trails on the mountain where the shrine is located, but I’m just going to spend time introducing the direct route that the vast majority of tourists will take to get there.

How you get to the Gold Museum is up to you, but if you’re asking me for travel advice, I think its best that you hop on one of the buses out of Taipei, and take it directly to the Gold Museum. Don’t get off at Jiufen, go directly to the Gold Museum area and then on your way back by all means, stop at Jiufen. If, on the other hand you have your own means of transportation, you’ll have to keep mind that parking in the area can be a bit expensive.

Car / Scooter

If you have your own means of transportation, I recommend inputting the address or coordinates provided above into your vehicles GPS or Google Maps to map out your route to the museum. Depending on whether you’re coming from Taipei, Keelung, or the east coast, the route is going to be slightly different, so it’s much easier to have it mapped out on your preferred positioning system.

It’s important to keep in mind that the car park for the museum isn’t located at the front entrance along the narrow mountain road, so you’ll want to pay attention to the signs along the road that will point you in the direction of the car park.

Below I’ll provide the official directions to the Gold Museum from its official website (slightly edited for grammar and clarity):

  1. Take the Zhongshan Highway in the direction of Keelung → Exit at Dahua System Interchange→ Exit at Ruifang → Provincial Highway 2 → Turn right on Mingdeng Rd. → Pass though Jiufen and head down the mountain towards Jinguashi → Arrive at the Gold Museum

  2. Take the Zhongshan Highway in the direction of Keelung →  Exit at Dahua System Interchange → Go in the direction of Ruibin → Provincial Highway 2 → Turn right onto North County Road 34→ Arrive at the Gold Museum

  3. From the East Coast take Provincial Highway 2 to Shuinandong car park → Turn left onto North County Road 34 → Arrive at the Gold Museum.

Teapot Mountain (茶壺山) in the distance.

Train

If you elect to take the train as part of your adventure, you’re going to have to keep in mind that you’ll eventually have to switch to a bus at either Keelung Train Station (基隆車站) or Ruifang Train Station (瑞芳車站) as there aren’t any trains that provide direct access to the area.

The most convenient of the two stations with regard to getting to the Gold Museum area is Ruifang Station, but it’s important to note that not all of the trains bound north out of Taipei will get you to that station. If you find yourself on the wrong train, you may have to get off and transfer to another one near Xizhi (汐止車站) or Badu (八堵車站).

That being said, if you’re traveling from Taipei, it’s much faster and more convenient to hop on one of the buses on the list below as they’re direct from the capital. Taking a bus from the city will also ensure that you get a seat as the buses that roll through Ruifang are often packed to the point that they just pass by you when you’re at the bus stop waiting.    

Bus

Conveniently located at the entrance to the Gold Museum, you’ll find the ‘Jinguashi Gold Ecological Park’ (金瓜石 黃金博物館) bus stop. The buses that travel along this route typically pass through Ruifang (瑞芳), Jiufen (九分) and pass by the Golden Waterfall (黃金瀑布) on their way to Shuinandong (水湳洞) along the coast.

Serviced by the following routes, I’ll also provide links to the real time bus information below in addition to where you’re able to hop on:

  • Taipei Bus #788 (台北客運788): City God Temple - Shuinandong (城隍廟-水湳洞)

  • Taipei Bus #825 (台北客運825): Ruifang Station - Gold Museum (瑞芳車站-黃金博物館)

  • Taiwan Tour Bus #856 (台灣好行856): Ruifang - Sandiaojiao (瑞芳-三貂角燈塔)

  • Taipei Bus #965 (台北客運965): Fuzhong - Gushan Elementary (府中捷運站 - 瓜山國小)

  • Bus #1062 (基隆客運1062): Taipei - Jinguashi (台北 - 金瓜石)

  • Bus #F802 (台北客運): Ruifang Train Station - Jinguashi (瑞芳車站 - 金瓜石)

Click on any of the bus routes above for the route map and real-time information for each of the buses. If you haven’t already, I recommend using the Taipei eBus website or downloading the “台北等公車” app to your phone, which makes it easier to map out your trip and find the nearest bus stops to wherever you are located.

Link: Bus Tracker (臺北等公車) - Apple | Android

1. From Taipei - Jinguashi (台北 - 金瓜石博物館)

The easiest route directly from Taipei to the Gold Museum is Bus #1062, which conveniently sets off from Zhongxiao Fuxing MRT Station (忠孝復興捷運站) and also passes by Songshan Train Station (松山車站) and Ruifang Train Station (瑞芳車站). You also have the option of taking Bus #965, where you can hop on at Wanhua Train Station (萬華車站), Ximen MRT Station (西門捷運站) or Beimen MRT Station (北門捷運站).

2. From Keelung - Jinguashi (基隆 - 金瓜石博物館)

From Keelung Train Station (基隆車站) you can tae Bus #788 directly to the Gold Museum.

3. From Banqiao - Jinguashi (板橋 - 金瓜石博物館)

From Banqiao Bus Station (板橋公車站), located next to the train station, you can hop on Bus #965 and take the bus directly to the Gold Museum

4. From Ruifang - Jinguashi (瑞芳 - 金瓜石博物館)

From Ruifang Train Station, you have the option to take a number of buses that are headed up the mountain to Jiufen and the Gold Museum area.

The thing you’ll want to remember is that the bus stop here is more often than not packed with people, so you may find yourself waiting a bit to get on a bus. On the other hand, there are quite a few buses that pass through the area on the way up the mountain, so it may not be too long of a wait.


After being closed for half a decade, the Golden Shrine is finally reopen to the public. As one of the highlights of any visit to Jinguashi or the Gold Museum, I highly recommend the short hike up the mountain to the shrine if you find yourself in the area. Obviously, as a ruined Shinto Shrine, there isn’t much to see, and it is a skeleton of its former self, but its continued existence remains quite significant with regard to the modern history of this beautiful island nation. Rated as one of the most iconic tourist destinations in northern Taiwan, the shrine provides tourists with a pretty great photo opportunity, so even if you’re not as interested in all of this stuff as I am, why not check it out?

References

  1. Ōgon Shrine | 金瓜石神社 (中文) | 黃金神社 (日文) (Wiki)

  2. Ōgon Shrine (Spectral Codex)

  3. List of Shinto Shrines in Taiwan | 台灣神社列表 (Wiki) 

  4. 金瓜石神社 ( 國家文化資產網)

  5. [新北市瑞芳].金瓜石.黃金博物園區 (Tony的自然人文旅記)

  6. 新北市立黃金博物館New Taipei City Gold Museum (Wiki)

  7. 礦山上的台灣最初社-金瓜石神社 (晰誌 | See Zine)

  8. 金瓜石神社 山神祭 (新北市政府)

  9. 金瓜石 | Jinguashi (Wiki)

  10. The Gold Museum in Jinguashi (TaiwanEverything)

  11. 118 Shinto Gods and Goddesses to Know About (Owlcation)

  12. Architecture and Sacred Spaces in Shinto (Berkeley ORIAS)

  13. Encyclopedia of Shinto (Kokugakuin University)

  14. Shinto Architecture (Wikiwand)

  15. Taipower unveils renovated Jinguashi Shinto shrine in New Taipei (FTV News)