Miaoli County

Qiding Railway Tunnels (崎頂子母隧道)

I’ve spent a considerable amount of time over the past year taking photos, researching, and writing about Japanese-era related railway destinations around the country. Having posted articles about railway museums, railway factories, railway stations and dormitories, today’s subject is somewhat of a new one for me as I haven’t had the chance to write about railway tunnels thus far. 

Given that my main focus with these articles is related to Japanese-era architecture, you might wonder why I’d make an effort to write about a set of tunnels - Sure, they date back to the colonial era, but their architectural significance is clearly not what I usually spend my time writing about. For many reasons however, these two tunnels located in northern Miaoli are historically significant, and they are actually rather photogenic, if I’m telling the truth.

That being said, I’ve always found it a bit strange when I’m out taking photos of all of these beautiful old Japanese-era buildings that I rarely ever come across Instagram influencers taking a billion photos of themselves with all of their weird poses, while a couple empty railway tunnels in Miaoli attracts them them like vultures hovering over a dead body. 

Coincidentally, even though I’ve had these tunnels on my list of places to visit for quite a while, it wasn’t actually me who suggested visiting. I had planned a day trip along the Coastal Railway taking photos of the so-called Miaoli Three Treasures (苗栗三寶), three stations located along the coastal railway that have each been in service for a hundred years. To take away from the monotony of visiting a bunch of railway stations, my significant other suggested we add these tunnels as part of our itinerary, to which I agreed. 

Link: Miaoli Three Treasures: Dashan Station, Tanwen Station, Xinpu Station

For reasons I don’t particularly understand, these century-old tunnels are considerably more popular than the vast majority of the restored Japanese-era buildings that have opened to the public as culture parks. So, when the local government re-opened them as part of the Qiding Tunnel Culture Park (崎頂隧道文化公園), all it took was a few clever Instagram posts, and a scene reminiscent of a popular Japanese anime to turn the area into an overnight sensation, with people coming from all over the country to visit. 

But before I start to introduce the tunnels, allow me a quick minute of your time to rant about something that I think is pretty important: Miaoli is a pretty special place, almost like a country of its own if you will - It’s also a very historic place, with a considerable amount of locations that are significant with regard to Taiwan’s history. Unfortunately Miaoli has been run into the ground by successive local governments that have one after another bankrupted the county. Given that there is so little money to go around, it shouldn’t be a huge surprise that the local government is forced to be very particular about the historic sites that they choose to restore when the annual budget is released. 

In recent years, these Qiding Tunnels, as well as some other railway tunnels have received some much needed attention and have opened up as popular tourist attractions, and that’s great. However, there are other historic sites, which are arguably more important and require more attention.

Within the vicinity of these tunnels, you’ll find the so-called ‘three-treasures’ mentioned above, each of which are desperate for a little attention. Similarly parts of the Tungxiao Shrine have yet to receive much attention, despite the amount of tourists that visit. In addition to Japanese-era sites, there is also a long list of other buildings that span hundreds of years of Taiwan’s history that are being sorely neglected. 

My point here is not to say that important restoration funding being provided for these tunnels was a bad decision - in fact I’m happy when any historic structure gets restored, but I think it does point to a larger problem with regard to a lack of priorities from the local government.

Miaoli is a huge county that spans almost 2000 square kilometers from the mountains to the coast, and my sincere hope is that the local government can at some point turn things around and get back on track so that these issues can be addressed in a responsible manner.  

Ok, thats the end of my rant. As I move on below, I’m going to focus simply on the history of these tunnels, and will spend some time on the culture park that is located there today. I’ll also talk a bit about the train station that is an important part of the park, and contributes to the popularity of the area today. Before I do that though, I’ll provide a brief explanation of the historical signifiance of the area.

Laoquqi / Kicho / Qiding (老衢崎 / きちょ / 崎頂)

The Qiding area, known historically as ‘Laoquqi’ (老衢崎) is located just across the border from Hsinchu County as you pass into Miaoli, and is currently part of Zhunan Township (竹南鎮), separated from the rest of the town by Jianbi Mountain (尖筆山). Amazingly, this quiet part of town was part of a strategically important historic road system that allowed people to travel from the north to south and vice versa. 

The road was strategic in that it was close enough to the coast, but far away enough from the mountains that people could pass by relatively safely. This was due to the fact that prior to the arrival of the Japanese, the area was scarcely populated, and the further you moved inland, the higher the percentage you had of never returning. During the Qing dynasty, transporting goods by land was a treacherous enterprise, and the indigenous people didn’t take kindly to immigrants from China - or anywhere else for that matter - encroaching on their territory. 

That being said, two separate events have made the ‘Laoquqi’ area stand out as it was the setting for an important battle, and the arrest of a renowned rebel leader. Starting with the latter, in 1786 (乾隆51年), Lin Shuangwen (林爽文), leader of the Heaven and Earth Society (天地會), a secretive Anti-Qing group, formed an army of Ming-loyalists and quickly incapacitated the weak hold that the Qing governors held over Taiwan.

In response, the emperor quickly sent troops to Taiwan to put down the rebellion, but the poorly organized army found themselves easily bested by the rebels who knew the land much better. The turning point in the short-lived war however came when the rebels started murdering the Hakka and Teochew immigrants, resulting in them forming their own militias and working together with the Qing forces to put down the rebellion. With his army’s defeat, Lin Shuangwen retreated and was later found hiding in the Laoquqi area where he was arrested and then later executed. 

The rebellion may have only lasted for a year, but its ramifications have had long lasted effects on Taiwan, making it one of the island’s most significant military-related events, and even though the man himself was branded as a criminal and a rebel, his reputation has somewhat improved over the years as his ‘bravery’ at taking on the Qing rulers is something that the Chinese Nationalists tried to capitalize given that they waged the same battle.

Making things a little more interesting, both Sun Yat-Sen (孫中山) and Chiang Kai-shek were members of the same secretive society that Lin himself was once a prominent leader in.

Link: Linshuang Wen Rebellion | Tiandihui (Wiki)

Then, in 1895 (明治28), shortly after the Japanese took control of Hsinchu, a group of anti-Japanese rebels started massing on Jianbi Mountain in an attempt to prevent Japanese forces from moving further south.

The group, numbering around 7000, put up a valiant effort against the Japanese, who outnumbered them and were better equipped, resulting in a relatively quick defeat.

Still, like the situation above, they are remembered today for their heroic efforts. 

What do either of these events have to do with the tunnels? Not a lot. 

But they do cement the fact that the area we currently refer to as Qiding has been a significant one throughout Taiwan’s modern development and that there are quite a few stories to be told thanks to these beautiful little hills along the western coast. 

Fortunately those stories are told as you pass through the tunnels and make your way along the newly created culture park that offers informative guides about the history of the area. 

Kichō #1 and #2 Tunnels (崎頂隧道)

You might be thinking, they’re just a couple of tunnels, how could they be all that important? 

And sure, I’d tend to agree, but when it comes to the Japanese, there has always been a bit of an obsessive compulsive tendency to ensure that things run as efficiently as humanly possible. These tunnels are essentially a result of that cultural drive for perfection in all things and their construction was an important step in ensuring the efficiency of the Western Trunk Railway, years after it went into service. 

Construction on the Kicho #1 and #2 Tunnels (崎頂一號隧道 崎頂二號隧道), better known today as the “Qiding Tunnels” (崎頂隧道) or the “Qiding Mother and Son Tunnels” (崎頂子母隧道) started in 1926 (昭和元年) and were completed two years later in 1928 (昭和三年). 

Something important that you’ll want to keep in mind is that 1926 was officially the inaugural year (元年) of the Showa Emperor’s (昭和皇帝) rule, and as it was a period of transition within Japan, it as also an important year for the construction of ambitious projects across Japan, and here in Taiwan as celebrations were taking place throughout the empire for the new era.

The Jūkan Tetsudo Project (ゅうかんてつどう / 縱貫鐵道), otherwise known as the ‘Taiwan Trunk Railway Project’ sought to have the railroad pass through all of Taiwan’s already established settlements, including Kirin (基隆), Taihoku (臺北), Shinchiku (新竹), Taichu (臺中), Tainan (臺南) and Takao (高雄). Completed in 1908 (明治41), the more than four-hundred kilometer railway connected the north to the south for the first time ever, and was all part of the Japanese Colonial Government’s master plan to ensure that Taiwan’s precious natural resources would be able to flow smoothy out of the ports in Northern, Central, and Southern Taiwan. 

After several years of operation however, the Railway Department of the Governor General’s Office (臺灣總督府交通局鐵道部) came to the conclusion that the existing track between Kozan (香山驛 / こうざんえき) and Chikunan (竹南驛/ちくなんえき) had some fundamental issues that needed to be resolved as the stretch of rail around the Jianbi Mountain (尖筆山) area needed to be addressed. The railway, which originally traveled directly from Kozan to Chikunan (Currently Xiangshan and Chunan) featured the 146 meter-long Jianbi Mountain Tunnel (尖筆山隧道), and an unfavorably steep incline that slowed trains down.

Given that the late 1920s thrust Chikunan Station into a more important role as it was where the Mountain Line (山線) and the Coastal Line (海岸線) split, there would have been a considerable amount of freight traffic passing through the area in addition to passenger trains. The inefficiency of the single-lane tunnel forced the railway engineers to come up with plans for the Jianbi Mountain Railway Improvement Project (尖筆山附近改良線), which rerouted the railroad through Kicho (崎頂) on the western side of the mountain and then south-east into Chikunan. 

As a result, the railway added the “Kicho Signal Station” (崎頂信号場 / きちょしんごうじょう) in 1928 (昭和3年), which three years later was upgraded into Kicho Railway Station (崎頂驛 / きちょえき). However, as the railway was rerouted to the western side of Jianbi Mountain, the problem still remained that the railway would at some point have to pass through a mountain tunnel prior to arriving in Qiding.

This time the engineers solved a couple of issues: 

  1. The tunnels were constructed in an area where there wasn’t an incline.

  2. The tunnels were constructed to be wide enough to allow two lanes of traffic to pass through.

The first tunnel (一號) has a length of 130.78 meters while the second (二號) is 67.48 meters, both of which have a width of 8 meters each, making them wide enough for dual rails. The lower potion of each of the tunnels was fortified with reinforced concrete while the curved upper half has beautiful red brick masonry, which is considered to be rather unique for the construction of rail tunnels like this in Taiwan. It also ensured that the tunnels were extremely durable as the high-quality materials have allowed the tunnels to remain intact for close to a century. 

For most English speakers, I’m assuming that naming of the tunnels seems a bit generic - However, for reasons I don’t particularly understand, they have been nicknamed by locals as the “Mother and Son tunnels” (子母隧道), which I’m assuming is due to the fact that one of them is longer than the other? Personally, I prefer to stick with #1 and #2 for clairity sake.

Anyway, they’re just railway tunnels, there’s not much else to say about them save for the events of the Second World War, and their ultimate abandonment. 

In 1945 (昭和20年), during the latter stages of the Second World War, the frequency of allied airstrikes on Taiwan had increased considerably, and the railway was one of their favorite targets. Chikunan Station for example was bombed on several occasions and as the trains stretched along the coast they became sitting ducks for bombers. The tunnels thus became an important area for not only hiding trains as the airstrikes were taking place, but also a safe space for the locals to evacuate. Knowing this, the allies often fired machine guns from the air at the tunnels and today you can still find traces of these attacks within the tunnels in the form of bullet holes. 

In the 1970s when the Taiwan Railway Administration started to electrify the railway, the clearance within the tunnels proved to be insufficient, so the railway had to once again be diverted. The tunnels were officially abandoned in 1978 (民國67年) when the electrified route between Keelung (基隆) and Jhunan (竹南) was completed. 

On June 24th, 2005, the tunnels were registered as as Miaoli County Protected Historic Site (苗栗縣歷史建築) and funding was allocated through the Jhunan Township Office (竹南鎮公所) to restore the area and open it up for tourism. Soon after the Qiding Tunnel Cultural Park (崎頂隧道文化公園) was opened, offering a walking path from the nearby railway station to the tunnels and includes some informative displays for visitors to learn about the history of the area. 

And then shortly after they became a huge hit on Instagram and people from all over Taiwan started visiting! 

Qiding Railway Station (崎頂火車站)

Taking into consideration how Qiding Railway Station is the starting point for most people’s visit to the culture park, I’m going to take just a minute to talk about the railway station in its current existence, and why it is an Instagram hot spot in its own right. 

First, as mentioned above, Qiding Station first opened in 1931 (昭和6年) as a small Japanese-style wooden station similar to that of nearby Xiangshan Station, Dashan Station and Tanwen Station. Unfortunately in 1996 (民國85年) that station was torn down and replaced with an unimpressive-looking modern structure.

The highlight of the station however isn’t actually the station itself.

To reach the station you have to walk down a steep set of stairs, which has become a popular Instagram spot thanks to its resemblance to a scene in the popular 2016 Japanese anime titled “Your Name” (你的名字/ 君の名は). Taking inspiration from the real-life stairs at the Suga Shrine (須賀神社) in Shinjuku, Tokyo, the stairs at Qiding Station have become a popular spot for young Taiwanese couples who recreate the scene for Instagram or even wedding photos. 

No matter what your reason for visiting, the Qiding Tunnel Culture Park is a nice spot to spend part of your day if you find yourself in the area. If you’re there just for the Instagram photos, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself as the area really is quite picturesque.

I know I tend to go far too in-depth with these things, but with so little historical information available about the area, I hope this article helps people understand the tunnels a bit more. 

Getting There

 

Address: No. 12, Nangang St, Zhunan Township, Miaoli County (苗栗縣竹南鎮南港街12號)

GPS: 24.730040, 120.878690

As is the case with any of my articles about Taiwan’s historic railway-related destinations, I’m going to say something that shouldn’t really surprise you - When you ask what is the best way to get to the this area, the answer should be pretty obvious: Take the train! 

In fact, if you don’t have access to your own means of transportation, be it car, scooter or a bicycle, you’ll discover that it’s going to be somewhat difficult to visit Qiding as it is located in a remote area where public transportation is pretty much non-existent, save for the train! 

Located just across the border from Hsinchu, the Qiding area is only a few stops south of Hsinchu Train Station, so if you’re traveling from the north, getting to the area shouldn’t take that much time. More precisely, Qiding is a fourteen minute ride south from Hsinchu Station on one of Taiwan Railway’s local commuter trains (區間車). That being said, once you’ve arrived at Hsinchu Station, if you’ve taken an express train, you’ll have to get off and transfer to one of the local trains as the express trains won’t stop at Qiding Station. 

From Qiding Station, the tunnels are a short walk away through a well-developed tourist path, so you shouldn’t have much trouble finding your way. 

If you have access to your own means of transportation, you should be able to get yourself to the area quite easily if you input the address or the GPS provided above. There are however two different sides to the park that you’ll want to keep in mind. The first is the northern portion, which is closest to the tunnels.

This area is located along a very narrow road, but provides an ample amount of free parking. If you’re driving a car, this is probably the better area to park, but getting in and out can be somewhat treacherous as the road to the parking lot wasn’t constructed to accommodate a lot of traffic.

The other area where you can park is on the southern side closer to the train station. This side only allows for road-side parking, but can be rather difficult to find a space when the area is busy. 

If you’re driving a scooter on the other hand, both sides are pretty easy to get to and you’ll easily find a place to park your scooter.

Finally, if you’re out for the day enjoying the beautiful Xiangshan Wetlands (香山濕地) on your bicycle, or a rented YouBike, with a little extra effort, you’ll also be able to enjoy the Qiding Area as it is a short detour off of the southern portion of the popular coastal bike path. The tunnels are a little over five kilometers from Xiangshan Train Station, and you’ll get to pass by the popular Xiangshan Sand Dunes (香山沙丘), the Sound of the Sea (海之聲) in the southern section of the wetlands. 

References

  1. 崎頂車站.當日光穿透過子母隧道時 (旅行圖中)

  2. 崎頂一、二號隧道 (Wiki)

  3. 尖筆山隧道 (Wiki)

  4. 崎頂車站 (Wiki)

  5. 說走就走的親子半日遊,苗栗火車小旅行 漫步崎頂車站與子母隧道 (微笑台灣)

  6. [苗栗竹南].崎頂鐵路懷舊隧道 (Tony的自然人文旅記)

  7. 見證歷史的小鎮──崎頂 (民報)

  8. Venturing Forth —Taiwan’s Branch Rail Lines (台灣外交部)

  9. Qiding Tunnels (苗栗旅遊網)


Xinpu Train Station (新埔車站)

One of my local photographer friends is someone who most people in Taiwan would refer to as an “auntie,” one of those strong-willed, no-nonsense types who says what she thinks and never holds back. As the boss of a noodle restaurant that people around here swear by, she’s used to shouting orders and controlling a well-oiled kitchen. So whenever we meet up, my Mandarin skills are put to the test because she speaks at about a mile a minute. 

We’ve been meeting up for a few years at a local craft beer bar where we chat about photography, cooking and lots of other subjects. She’s always interested in the places I’m visiting and the photos I’m taking, because for her (and I guess a lot of other local photographers), I have a different perspective on things here in Taiwan. 

Coincidentally, one of her absolute favorite things to shoot is trains, and she travels all over the country to these amazing locations to take beautiful photos of trains crossing bridges, coming out of caves, etc. She’s also taken this hobby on the road and traveled to Japan countless times over the years that I’ve known her to do exactly the same thing.

Personally, I’ve never been a big fan of trains - Back home in Canada it’s uncommon for us to take a train, and before leaving the country, I probably only took a train once in twenty years.

That being said, as my interest in searching out and researching remnants of the Japanese Colonial Era in Taiwan has grown, I’ve also started to look for anything rail-related from that era. 

This is something that my friend is having a good time with, because I’ve often teased, “Why don’t you find something else to shoot other than trains?” to which she now says: “Why don’t you find something else to shoot other than train stations?” 

Fortunately for her, the railway is something that will be a part of Taiwan for a long time to come.

I’ll probably run out of train stations to take photos of within the next year or two (depending on how quickly I visit them all). So, I’ll eventually be the person looking for other things to take photos of.

Today, I’m going to be introducing the third (and final) of Miaoli’s Japanese-era railway stations. As I’ve mentioned in previous articles, Miaoli County (苗栗縣) in Central Taiwan is home to three century-old stations along the Coastal Railway that amazingly continue to remain in operation today. 

Known as “Miaoli’s Three Treasures” (苗栗三寶), these three historic stations have defied all the odds in a quickly modernizing Taiwan, and have stayed open forfar longer than anyone has ever expected. 

Given that I’ve already introduced Dashan Station and Tanwen Station, this will be the last piece with regard to the Three Treasures. In the future however, I’ll be expanding from the “Miaoli Three Treasures” to the “Coastal Railway Five Treasures” (海線五寶), because there are actually two more of these historic stations just across the river in Taichung - and likewise there are a couple of other stations along the Mountain Line as well.

Before I start introducing Xinpu Railway Station, I should probably first briefly mention a bit about the history of the Coastal Railway. If you’ve already read about it in my previous posts, feel free to skip it.  

Coastal Railway (海岸線 / かいがんせん)

 The history of the railway in Taiwan dates back as far as 1891 (光緒17), when the Qing governor, attempted to construct a route stretching from Keelung (基隆) all the way to Hsinchu (新竹). Ultimately though, the construction of the railway came at too high of a cost, especially with war raging back home in China, so any plans to expand it further were put on hold.

A few short years later in 1895 (明治28), the Japanese took control of Taiwan, and brought with them a team of skilled engineers who were tasked with coming up with plans to have that already established railway evaluated, and then to come up with suggestions to extend it all the way to the south of Taiwan and beyond.   

The Jūkan Tetsudo Project (ゅうかんてつどう / 縱貫鐵道), otherwise known as the ‘Taiwan Trunk Railway Project’ sought to have the railroad pass through all of Taiwan’s already established settlements, including Kirin (基隆), Taihoku (臺北), Shinchiku (新竹), Taichu (臺中), Tainan (臺南) and Takao (高雄). 

Completed in 1908 (明治41), the more than four-hundred kilometer railway connected the north to the south for the first time ever, and was all part of the Japanese Colonial Government’s master plan to ensure that Taiwan’s precious natural resources would be able to flow smoothy out of the ports in Northern, Central, and Southern Taiwan. 

Once completed, the Railway Department of the Governor General of Taiwan (台灣總督府交通局鐵道部) set its sights on constructing branch lines across the country as well as expanding the railway network with a line on the eastern coast as well. 

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

However, after almost a decade of service, unforeseen circumstances in central Taiwan necessitated changes in the way that the western railway was operated, with issues arising due to typhoon and earthquake damage. More specifically, the western trunk railway in southern Miaoli passed through the mountains and required somewhat of a steep incline in several sections before eventually crossing bridges across the Da’an (大安溪) and Da’jia Rivers (大甲溪).

Issues with the railway in the aftermath of a couple of devastating earthquakes created a lot of congestion, and periodic service outages in passenger and freight service when the railway and the bridges had to be repaired. 

Link: Long-Teng Bridge (龍騰斷橋)

To solve this problem, the team of railway engineers put forward a plan to construct the Kaigan-sen (かいがんせん / 海岸線), or the Coastal Railway Branch line between Chikunangai (ちくなんがい / 竹南街) and Shoka (しょうかちょう / 彰化廳), or the cities we refer to today as Chunan (竹南) and Changhua (彰化). 

Link: Western Trunk Line | 縱貫線 (Wiki)  

Construction on the ninety kilometer Coastal Line started in 1919, and amazingly was completed just a few short years later in 1922 (大正11), servicing eighteen stations, some of which (as I mentioned above) continue to remain in service today. 

Those stations were: Zhunan (竹南), Tanwen (談文湖), Dashan (大山), Houlong (後龍), Longgang (公司寮), Baishatun (白沙墩), Xinpu (新埔), Tongxiao (吞霄), Yuanli (苑裡), Rinan (日南), Dajia (大甲), Taichung Port (甲南), Qingshui (清水), Shalu (沙轆), Longjing (龍井), Dadu (大肚), Zhuifen (追分) and Changhua (彰化).

(Note: English is current name / Chinese is the original Japanese-era station name)

The completion of the Coastal Railway was incredibly signficant for a number reasons - most importantly, it assisted with moving freight between the ports in Keelung and Taichung much more efficiently, especially when it came to moving things out central Taiwan given that one of the stations was located at the port in Taichung. Although the railway was primarily used for moving freight back and forth, another important aspect was that the railway allowed for the smaller communities along the coast to grow and become more economically viable.

On that last point, the construction of the railway along the coast not only provided passenger service to the communities that grew along the coast, but it also allowed for entrepreneurs in those areas access to a modern method of exporting their own products for the first time. If you know anything about the relationship between Japan and Taiwan, one of the things that the Japanese absolutely love about this beautiful country is the wide variety of fruit that is grown here.

The coastal railway helped to ignite that passion with the coastal area in Miaoli exporting massive amounts of watermelons and other produce.

Shin-ho Station (新埔驛 / しんほえき)

Coinciding with the official opening of service along the Western Coastal Railway, a number of railway stations simultaneously opened their doors for passenger and freight service, one of them was Miaoli’s Xinpu Station (新埔車站 / しんほえき).

Officially opened on October 11th, 1922 (大正11年), the station was originally named ‘Shin-ho Station’ (新埔驛 / しんほえき), and is geographically located closest to the coast of any of the stations along Taiwan’s Western Coast Trunk Line.

When you arrive at the station and look out the front door, the ocean is literally a short walk away. 

In fact, as you look out the door there is a sign pointing you to the beach.

These days, when you mention “Xinpu Station,” most people around Taiwan are likely to think of the MRT station with the same name located in Banqiao (板橋), just across the river from Taipei. So lets get that out of the way first - this certainly isn’t an MRT station - it’s a century-old railway station in southern Miaoli, and as mentioned earlier is one of the nation’s oldest (still-in-operation) stations. 

The interesting thing about Xinpu Station is that it was constructed in an area that only would have ever served a very small fishing community nestled along the coast while most of the other stations along the coastal line served practical purposes with regard to the export of fruit, produce and other goods.

I haven’t found any evidence that points to Xinpu Station serving any other purpose than acting as a mid-way point between ‘Hakushaton Station’ (白沙屯驛/はくしゃとんえき) and ‘Tsusho Station’ (通霄駅 / つうしょうえき), known these days as Baishatun Station (白沙屯車站) and Tongxiao Station (通宵車站).

One of the reasons why I think it’s so safe to assume that the station was never used for loading freight is because the road in front of the station is too narrow and the rear area of the station is home to a hill that would have prevented anything from happening there. If we look at both Dashan and Tanwen Stations further north, we can still see the areas where the freight would have been loaded on trains.

Anyway, despite being a century old, not much has really happened at Xinpu Station over the years - The Japanese era ended in 1945 and when the Chinese Nationalists took control, things pretty much stayed the same at this quiet little piece of Miaoli’s southern coast.

Compared to the first two of Miaoli’s “Three Treasures” that I’ve posted about, the timeline I’m providing below is evidence of how little has happened there over the years.  

Timeline:

  • 10/11/1922 (大正11年) - Shin-ho Station (新埔驛) opens for service.

  • 06/01/1986 (民國75年) - The station is reclassified as a Simple Platform Station (簡易站) under the operational control of nearby Baishatun Station (白沙屯車站).

  • 06/07/2005 (民國94年) - The station is recognized as a protected historic building (歷史建築).

  • 06/30/2015 (民國104年) - The station switches to the usage of card swiping services rather than issuing tickets.

  • 09/16/2017 (民國106年) - The station is reclassified as a Type B Simple Platform Station (乙種簡易站) and operational control is shifted from Baishatun Station to Tongxiao Station (通宵車站)

  • 10/11/2022 (民國111年) - The station will celebrate its 100th year of service.

The Interior of the Station Hall

Over the past few decades, ridership at the station has gone up and down, but as it goes now the number of people getting on or off the train at Xinpu Station is on the decline. In 2021, for example only 41,527 people passed through the gates, making the daily average just a little over a hundred people per day. 

While the daily ridership at Xinpu Station seems low, it is actually comparable with many of the other smaller stations along the Coastal Line, so it’s not like the station is close to death. Fortunately, even if ridership does continue to fall, the station will likely remain in service thanks to the fact that it is located directly next to the coast where you’ll find the popular Miaoli Bike Way (綠光海風自行車道) tourist bike path. 

Before I get into the architectural design of the station, I should probably mention that the the area is home to a bit of a strange neighbor in the form of the Qiumao Garden (秋茂園). The semi-abandoned amusement park is full of all sorts of creepy sculptures and in the past was an attraction for a lot of tourists who were passing by with their children. These days the park has been gated off, but it remains popular with urban explorers, who hop the fence to take photos. 

Click the link below to check out some photos from the park from almost a decade ago. 

Link: 通霄秋茂園 ‧ 墓園變樂園也太妙了吧 (烏秋的天空

Architectural Design

Interestingly, when we talk about the stations that make up Miaoli’s Japanese-era “Three Treasures”, the architectural design of each of the stations differ only slightly. I suppose this shouldn’t be too much of a surprise given that they were all smaller stations, each of which opened in the same year, meaning that they obviously saved some money when it came to architectural design and construction costs. These buildings are about as formulaic as you’ll get with Japanese architectural design, but don’t let that fool you - the simplicity of these stations still allows for some special design elements. 

Compared with the other two stations, Xinpu remains in relatively good shape, but it certainly does show signs of age in a few areas. Tanwen is obviously in the worst shape of the bunch while Dashan probably would have been the best of the bunch, if it weren’t for a drunk driver driving his truck through the front doors. 

The station was constructed in a fusion of Japanese and Western architectural design, and one of the reasons it stands out today (apart from its age) is that it was built almost entirely of wood (木造結構), more specifically locally sourced Taiwanese cedar (杉木), making use of a network of beams within the building to ensure structural stability. The base of the building, and portions of the wall however make use of concrete to help reinforce the building. 

The architectural design fusion in many of the buildings that were constructed during the Taishō era (大正) borrowed elements of Western Baroque (巴洛克建築), with those of traditional Japanese design. In this case however, the architectural design is somewhat subdued, which makes the traditional Japanese design elements stand out more. This was likely in part due to cost-saving measures as well as ensuring that the construction period of all the stations along the Coastal line would be completed between 1919 (大正8) and 1922 (大正11年).  

The station was constructed using the traditional Irimoya-zukuri (入母屋造 / いりもやづくり) style of design, most often referred to in English as the “East Asian hip-and-gable roof,” one of Japan’s most common architectural styles, and is one that you’d commonly find used for Shinto Shrines, Buddhist temples, Martial Arts Halls, etc. However, even though the design of the station makes use of irimoya, it isn’t comparable with those other more official buildings, which would have been more grand in their architectural design (and the amount of money spent on their construction). 

Nevertheless, keeping with the irimoya architectural style, the building was constructed with genius a network of beams and trusses located within the interior and exterior of the building that work in conjunction with the concrete base to allow the roof to (in this case slightly) eclipse the base (母屋) in size, and ensure that its weight was evenly distributed.

The genius in design, if not already obvious enough has allowed the base of the building to support the weight of the roof for a century. 

The roof was designed using the kirizuma-zukuri (妻造的樣式) style, which is one of the oldest and most commonly used designs in Japan. Translated simply as a “cut-out gable” roof, the kirizuma-style is one of the simplest of Japan’s ‘hip-and-gable’ roofs. What this basically means is that you have a section of the roof (above the rear entrance) that ‘cuts’ out from the rest of the roof and faces outward like an open book (入), while the longer part of the roof is curved facing in the opposite direction.

The roof was originally covered in Japanese-style black tiles (日式黑瓦), but similar to both Dashan and Tanwen Stations, the tiles were replaced at some point (I haven’t found a specific date) with imitation cement tiles that appear similar to the original sodegawara (袖瓦/そでがわら), munagawara (棟瓦 /むながわらあ), nokigawara (軒瓦/のきがわら), and onigawara (鬼瓦/おにがわら) elements of traditional Japanese roof design.

Closed up ox-eye window

One of the most notable ‘baroque-inspired’ elements of the building’s architectural design is the addition of the round ox-eye window (牛眼窗), located above the ‘cut’ section of the roof near the arch. The window helps to provide natural light into the station hall, and is one of those architectural elements that Japanese architects of the period absolutely loved. 

The interior of the building is split in two sections, much like what we saw the former Qidu Railway Station, with the largest section acting as the station hall while the other was where the station staff and ticket windows were located. Given that the station remains in operation today, only the station hall area is open to the public.

That being said, the daily operation of the station is (currently) coordinated out of nearby Tongxiao Station (通宵車站), so as I mentioned earlier, the only employee you’ll find working there is likely to be a volunteer hanging out. The station office is completely closed as is the ticket booth (the station shifted to card swiping for ticket purchasing) so you can’t even take a look at what the office looks like. 

Given that the ticket booth and the office are closed, the station hall has been more or less stripped down and is pretty much empty, except for a few notices on the walls. The relative emptiness of the interior however allows you to appreciate the design of the building a bit more as you are free to walk around and look at everything very closely. 

Interior of the station

Personally, while I did appreciate that the station hall was empty, I thought its size, the open windows and the natural afternoon light made it a really comfortable experience - especially in comparison to the modern stations you’ll find throughout the country today. That in addition to the beautiful planted flowers in the station front, and the sound of the nearby ocean waves, make this a pretty cool place to visit. 

Getting There

 

Address: #57, Hsinpu Village. Tongxiao Township (苗栗縣通霄鎮新埔里新埔57號)

GPS: 24.539850, 120.700350

As is the case with all of my articles about Taiwan’s historic railway stations, I’m going to say something that shouldn’t really surprise you - When you ask what is the best way to get to this train station, the answer should be pretty obvious: Take the train! 

Xinpu Railway Station is the southernmost of Miaoli’s ‘Three treasures’, so getting there from the north takes a bit more time than the other two stations. There are two important things to remember about taking the train: The first is that the station is located south of Hsinchu Station on the Coastal Line (海線), and the second is that the station is only serviced by local commuter trains (區間車). What this means is that if you take an express train from Taipei, or anywhere north of Hsinchu, you’ll have to switch to a commuter train once you’re there.

Be very careful about this, because the majority of trains leaving Hsinchu will take the mountain line, and that’s definitely not where you want to be (on this excursion anyway). That being said, if you planned on visiting this station and then making your way back up north, you could take a faster express train (on the coastal line) to Tongxiao Station and from there transferring to one of the local commuter trains mentioned above to backtrack northbound from there. 

Front portico of the station.

If on the other hand you’re in the area and you’re driving a car or scooter, but still want to stop by and check out the station, that’s okay as well. You should be able to easily find the station if you input the address provided above into your GPS or Google Maps. That being said, my English translation of the address above isn’t likely to show up on your preferred GPS - This is because there isn’t actually a ‘street address’ for the station, so I strongly recommend you copy and paste the Chinese-language address so that you won’t end up getting lost.

The funny thing is that this address problem is something that happens quite often in Japan, but is a little less common here in Taiwan. The Hsinpu Station however is quite a small neighborhood, and the area where the station is located can be considered more or less the middle of nowhere. 

The station is located along the side of a very narrow road near the beach in Miaoli’s southernmost Tongxiao Township (通霄鎮). If you’re driving a car, you’ll have to cross the train tracks on a very small country road, so its important to remember to drive very slowly in case you come across some oncoming traffic. 

When you arrive at the station, you’re free to walk around and check it out, it’s likely that you’ll only come across a volunteer keeping watch. Even if you’re not getting on the train, you can walk through to the back of the platform area without purchasing a platform ticket. So, you’ll be able to freely take photos of the front and back. That being said, the rear of the station is quite cramped as the original designers probably never figured that there would eventually be a sky walk platform constructed next to the station.

This makes taking photos there isn’t a little more difficult than Dashan and Tanwen Stations. 

Of the so-called Three Treasures, Xinpu Station is probably one of the easiest to visit and is where you’re likely to find the most tourists. This is probably due to the fact that it is so close to the famed Baishatun Mazu Temple (白沙屯拱天宮), and the popular Cape of Good Hope (好望角). It is however probably safe to say that it is the less photogenic of the three century-old stations even though it does have its own unique charm.

If you’re going on a tour of these old Japanese stations, then it’s one that you have to visit. Otherwise, unless you’re in the area, its probably not one of those places that many would go out of their way to visit.


Tanwen Train Station (談文湖車站)

I’ve probably never mentioned this, but both my father and my grandfather are pretty highly-skilled carpenters. Growing up, I never really had much respect for what they did, especially when I got dragged out to one of their work sites to ‘learn the family trade’. This is because, where I live in Canada, it’s pretty much the norm to find houses constructed almost entirely of wood, so I never really considered what they did to be all that special - and what kind of kid wants to hang around a construction site anyway?  

Looking back, I wish I took a bit more interest in what they were trying to teach me - not because I regret the decisions I’ve taken in life, but more so because I see a lot of their expertise in some of the articles I write about today. Similarly, after living so long in Taiwan among all of these concrete buildings, it’s easy to feel a bit nostalgic for those things that I thought were far too common in my youth.  

Here in Taiwan, architectural design and construction techniques are concepts that have evolved considerably over time. If you’ve been here long enough, I’m sure you’ll probably have noticed that at some point someone came to the conclusion that the best way to protect people’s homes (from the harsh tropical environment) was to simply pour copious amounts of concrete, and hope for the best.

It wasn’t always like that though - As you might have seen from my various articles about the Japanese period, the architects of that era employed highly-skilled carpenters to assist in the development of the newly acquired colony. Granted, the environmental issues faced by the architects of that era were similar to what those today have to deal with, but they found a way to deal with it, and amazingly many of the wooden buildings that were constructed more than a century ago are in better shape than concrete structures half their age.  

That being said, while there are quite a few of these heritage buildings that remain in great shape, and others that have received a bit of restoration - there are many that can be best described as ‘having seen better days’, and today I’m going to be introducing one of them. 

In a recent article, I introduced Dashan Railway Station (大山火車站), a small train station in central Taiwan’s Miaoli county, which is nearing almost a century of operation. I explained in detail in that article how the small station located along Taiwan’s Coastal Railway (海岸線) is known as one of the Coastal Five Treasures (海線五寶), or the Coastal Three Treasures (海線三寶), depending on who you ask. 

Links: Dashan Railway Station (大山火車站) | Xiangshan Railway Station (香山車站)

I don’t want to spend too much time re-hashing information that I’ve already provided, but each of these so-called “treasures” refers to century-old wooden train stations along the coastal railway line, three of which are located in Miaoli, while the other two are in Taichung. In each case, these historic stations are considerably smaller than what you’d expect from most of Taiwan’s other train stations, but have amazingly remained in operation for a century.

Given their age, each of these train stations has been afforded the designation as a protected heritage building, and at some point they’ll all (probably) receive the colloquial fresh coat of paint that they deserve, but as they’re set to celebrate their centennial in 2022, you’d be excused for wondering why they haven’t already received the attention they so desperately require.

Especially in the case of this particular station. 

Of Miaoli’s so-called ‘Three Treasures’, Tanwen Station (談文車站) is probably in the worst shape of the bunch, but even though it looks as if it is falling apart, it has fortunately remained faithful to its original architectural design. Likewise, the materials used to construct the building almost a century ago remain in relatively good shape meaning that if you’re able to visit before they restore the building, you’ll get to see it in its original glory!

Coastal Railway (海岸線 / かいがんせん)

An illustration of the separation between the Mountain and Coastal Lines.

The history of the railway in Taiwan dates back as far as 1891 (光緒17), when the Qing governor, attempted to construct a route stretching from Keelung (基隆) all the way to Hsinchu (新竹). Ultimately though, the construction of the railway came at too high of a cost, especially with war raging back home in China, so any plans to expand it further were put on hold.

A few short years later in 1895 (明治28), the Japanese took control of Taiwan, and brought with them a team of skilled engineers who were tasked with coming up with plans to have that already established railway evaluated, and then to come up with suggestions to extend it all the way to the south of Taiwan and beyond.   

The Jūkan Tetsudo Project (ゅうかんてつどう / 縱貫鐵道), otherwise known as the ‘Taiwan Trunk Railway Project’ sought to have the railroad pass through all of Taiwan’s already established settlements, including Kirin (基隆), Taihoku (臺北), Shinchiku (新竹), Taichu (臺中), Tainan (臺南) and Takao (高雄). 

Completed in 1908 (明治41), the more than four-hundred kilometer railway connected the north to the south for the first time ever, and was all part of the Japanese Colonial Government’s master plan to ensure that Taiwan’s precious natural resources would be able to flow smoothy out of the ports in Northern, Central, and Southern Taiwan. 

Once completed, the Railway Department of the Governor General of Taiwan (台灣總督府交通局鐵道部) set its sights on constructing branch lines across the country as well as expanding the railway network with a line on the eastern coast as well. 

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

The Mountain and Coastal Line circuit between Zhunan and Changhua.

However, after almost a decade of service, unforeseen circumstances in central Taiwan necessitated changes in the way that the western railway was operated, with issues arising due to typhoon and earthquake damage. More specifically, the western trunk railway in southern Miaoli passed through the mountains and required somewhat of a steep incline in several sections before eventually crossing bridges across the Da’an (大安溪) and Da’jia Rivers (大甲溪).

Issues with the railway in the aftermath of a couple of devastating earthquakes created a lot of congestion, and periodic service outages in passenger and freight service when the railway and the bridges had to be repaired. 

Link: Long-Teng Bridge (龍騰斷橋)

To solve this problem, the team of railway engineers put forward a plan to construct the Kaigan-sen (かいがんせん / 海岸線), or the Coastal Railway Branch line between Chikunangai (ちくなんがい / 竹南街) and Shoka (しょうかちょう / 彰化廳), or the cities we refer to today as Chunan (竹南) and Changhua (彰化). 

Link: Western Trunk Line | 縱貫線 (Wiki)  

Opening ceremonies for the Coastal Line on October 11th, 1922

Construction on the ninety kilometer Coastal Line started in 1919, and amazingly was completed just a few short years later in 1922 (大正11), servicing eighteen stations, some of which (as I mentioned above) continue to remain in service today. 

Those stations were: Zhunan (竹南), Tanwen (談文湖), Dashan (大山), Houlong (後龍), Longgang (公司寮), Baishatun (白沙墩), Xinpu (新埔), Tongxiao (吞霄), Yuanli (苑裡), Rinan (日南), Dajia (大甲), Taichung Port (甲南), Qingshui (清水), Shalu (沙轆), Longjing (龍井), Dadu (大肚), Zhuifen (追分) and Changhua (彰化).

(Note: English is current name / Chinese is the original Japanese-era station name)

The completion of the Coastal Railway was incredibly signficant for a number reasons - most importantly, it assisted with moving freight between the ports in Keelung and Taichung much more efficiently, especially when it came to moving things out central Taiwan given that one of the stations was located at the port in Taichung. Although the railway was primarily used for moving freight back and forth, another important aspect was that the railway allowed for the smaller communities along the coast to grow and become more economically viable.

On that last point, the construction of the railway along the coast not only provided passenger service to the communities that grew along the coast, but it also allowed for entrepreneurs in those areas access to a modern method of exporting their own products for the first time. If you know anything about the relationship between Japan and Taiwan, one of the things that the Japanese absolutely love about this beautiful country is the wide variety of fruit that is grown here.

The coastal railway helped to ignite that passion with the coastal area in Miaoli exporting massive amounts of watermelons and other produce.

Tanwen Station (談文湖車站)

When the Western Coastal Railway opened for service, a number of railway stations simultaneously opened their doors, marking a historic day for passenger and freight service along Taiwan’s western coast, and more importantly improving upon to efficiency of the already existing railway. One of those stations was Miaoli’s Tanwen Station (談文車站 / だんぶんえき), which officially opened on October 11th, 1922 (大正11年).

Originally known as ‘Tanbunmizūmi Station’ (談文湖駅 / だんぶんみずうみえき), or ‘Tanwenhu’ in Mandarin, you might notice that at some point over the past century, one of the characters in the name seems to have disappeared. Currently referred to as “Tanwen” (談文), the character “湖” (mizūmi / hú / lake) was removed shortly after the Japanese-era came to an end.

The original name was derived from the fact that the low-lying area where the station was constructed was once home to a freshwater lake, part of an estuary of the nearby Zhonggang River (中港溪), which flows from the mountains and empties in the ocean. 

That lake however seems to have disappeared, much like the character in the original name.

If you visit the station, you’ll likely notice that beyond the railway platforms there are a number of rice paddies, so I’m assuming that the lake that once existed there was at some point absorbed into the agricultural network set up by local farmers. Nevertheless, a few years after the Japanese-era came to an end, the Chinese Nationalist-controlled Taiwan Railway Administration officially renamed the station “Tanwen Station” (談文車站), removing mention of the ‘lake’ in the original name.  

Unlike most the nation’s railway stations, Tanwen Station isn’t located within a town, village or even a community - It sits quietly along the Taiwan #1 Highway (台1線 / 縱貫公路), and it’s safe to say that most of the out-of-towners who pass by in their cars aren’t even likely to notice it. One of the reasons for this is because the station is also uniquely located down a hill just off of the highway. To reach the front door, you’ll have to walk down the narrow pathway, which is only really wide enough for scooters. 

As mentioned above, one of the main reasons for the construction of the Coastal Railway was to alleviate congestion on the main rail line between Hsinchu and Taichung, but another reason that the railway could similarly offer freight access to the farmers along the coast, who most notably were in the business of exporting Miaoli’s famed watermelons to the ports in Taichung and Keelung for the market back in Japan.

So, if you’ve ever heard someone claim that the coastal railway was constructed to essentially get those precious watermelons back to Japan faster, they wouldn’t necessarily be wrong. If you’ve ever eaten a Taiwanese watermelon (or any fruit grown here), it shouldn’t really surprise you!

That being said, when you visit Tanwen Station today, you’d likely come to a conclusion (similar to my own) that that the station doesn’t really seem like it was set up in an optimal way for loading freight. Amazingly though, given the station’s location, and being the first stop along the Coastal railway, it was a prosperous one, given that neighboring Zaoqiao (造橋) was in the business of exporting acacia (相思木) and charcoal while Gongguan (公館) was producing red tiles (紅瓦) and Nanzhuang (南庄) was mining coal, all of which would have been loaded on freight trains at Tanwen to be sent south to the port in Taichung. 

Waiting area outside of the station

Having visited the station, I found it a bit difficult to believe that so much freight could have passed through there over the years. Taking a look at the satellite view on Google Maps however provides an explanation as to how this was actually possible - While the station itself was located in a low-lying area off of the (current) highway, another road was constructed on the opposite side of the tracks to facilitate the processing and loading of freight onto trains. While also quite narrow, the road would have serviced one-way traffic in and out, and looks as if it would have been an efficient set up with passengers entering through the station on one side and the freight being processed on the other side of the tracks.

The economic prosperity created by the station ultimately only ended up lasting a few decades as when the Japanese-era ended, so did much of the exporting of goods that went with it. The Coastal Railway continued its regular service, but as time passed, the number of freight trains running through the area gradually decreased, and today they have become almost non-existent.

Official figures state that in 2020, 24,242 passengers got off and on the train at Tanwen Station, which means that on average fewer than fifty people pass through its gates everyday. To offer a point of comparison, the next station over, Zhunan Station (竹南車站), records almost 15,000 daily passengers, which should go to show just how quiet it is at Tanwen Station. 

Covered walkway around the side of the station

Before I get into the architectural design of the station, I’m going to provide a brief timeline of events that took place at the station over the past century:

  • 10/11/1922 (大正11年) - Tanbunmizūmi Station (淡文湖駅) officially opens for service.

  • 3/10/1954 (民國43年) - The name of the station is officially changed to Tanwen Station (談文車站).

  • 5/30/1976 (民國65年) - A head-on collision near the station results in 29 dead and 141 injured.

  • 3/15/1991 (民國80年) - The station is reclassified as a Simple Platform Station (簡易站).

  • 3/21/2008 (民國97年) - The station is recognized as a protected historic building (歷史建築).

  • 06/30/2015 (民國104年) - The station switches to the usage of card swiping services rather than issuing tickets.

  • 10/10/2022 (民國111年) - The station will celebrate its 100th year of service.

Architectural Design 

Interestingly, when we talk about the stations that make up Miaoli’s Japanese-era “Three Treasures”, the architectural design of each of the stations differ only slightly. I suppose this shouldn’t be too much of a surprise given that they were all relatively small stations, each of which opened in the same year, meaning that they obviously saved some money when it came to architectural design and construction costs.

These buildings are about as formulaic as you’ll get with Japanese architectural design, but don’t let that fool you - the simplicity of these stations allows for some special design elements. 

Obviously, as mentioned above, this station is currently in pretty bad shape compared to its contemporaries in Dashan and Xinpu, but even though the paint is chipping and parts of the station look like they’re falling apart, it is remarkably still in pretty good shape - especially when you take into consideration how old it is and that it has been completely open to the elements for a number of years.

Constructed in a fusion of Japanese and Western architectural design, one of the reasons these stations stand out today is that they were built almost entirely of wood (木造結構), more specifically locally sourced Taiwanese cedar (杉木). Another reason is because the architectural design fusion in the stations that were constructed during the Taishō era (大正) borrowed elements of Western Baroque (巴洛克建築), with that of traditional Japanese design.

Approaching the station from the highway

To start, the station was constructed using the ubiquitous Irimoya-zukuri (入母屋造 / いりもやづくり) style of design, most often referred to simply in English as the “East Asian hip-and-gable roof” which more or less means that the building has a roof that is larger than its base. In this style of design, one of the best ways to ensure structural stability was to construct a network of beams and trusses within both the interior and exterior of the building. This allows the roof to (in this case ever to slightly) eclipse the base (母屋) while ensuring that its weight is evenly distributed so that it doesn’t collapse.

One of the areas where you’ll find that the dilapidated state of the station most interesting is that you can find parts where the ‘bamboo mud walls’ (編竹夾泥牆) are exposed, giving you a pretty good view of how walls were reinforced and insulated in Taiwan during the colonial era. This construction method was similar to what was commonly used back in Japan, but since bamboo was both cheap and abundant in Taiwan, the style was modified to form a lattice using bamboo, which is an impressively reliable building material. 

Link: Bamboo Mud Wall (Wiki)

The roof was designed using the kirizuma-zukuri (妻造的樣式) style, which is one of the oldest and most commonly used designs in Japan. Translated simply as a “cut-out gable” roof, the kirizuma-style is one of the simplest of Japan’s ‘hip-and-gable’ roofs. What this basically means is that you have a section of the roof (above the rear entrance) that ‘cuts’ out from the rest of the roof and faces outward like an open book (入), while the longer part of the roof is curved facing in the opposite direction. From either the sky walk or the highway, you can get an excellent view of the roof as you descend either toward the building. 

The roof was originally covered in Japanese-style black tiles (日式黑瓦), but like nearby Dashan Station, the tiles were replaced at some point (I haven’t found a specific date) with imitation cement tiles that remain similar to the original sodegawara (袖瓦/そでがわら), munagawara (棟瓦 /むながわらあ), nokigawara (軒瓦/のきがわら), and onigawara (鬼瓦/おにがわら) elements of traditional Japanese roof design.

Ox-tail window under the apex of the roof

One of the most notable ‘baroque-inspired’ elements of the building’s architectural design is the addition of the round ox-eye window (牛眼窗) located above the ‘cut’ section of the roof near the arch. If you’re descending the sky walk from the platform, its likely one of the first things you’ll notice as it is facing in that direction. The window helps to provide natural light into the station hall, and is one of those architectural elements that Japanese architects of the period absolutely loved. 

The interior of the building is split in two sections, much like what we saw the former Qidu Railway Station with the largest section acting as the station hall while the other was where the station staff and ticket windows were located. Given that the station remains in operation today, only the station hall section is open to the public. That being said, the daily operation of the station is coordinated out of neighouring Zhunan Station (竹南車站), and the only employee you’ll find working there is most often found sitting within in a kiosk on the platform area. The station office is completely closed as is the ticket booth (the station shifted to card swiping for ticket purchasing) so you can’t even take a peek inside to see what the office looks like. 

The empty interior of the station hall

Today the station hall has been more or less stripped down and is pretty much empty, except for a few notices on the walls. The relative emptiness of the interior however allows you to appreciate the design of the building a bit more as you are free to walk around and examine everything closely, and at your leisure.

Personally, while I did appreciate that the station hall was empty, I thought its size, the open windows and the natural afternoon light made it a really comfortable experience, especially in comparison to the modern stations you’ll find throughout the country today. 

One of my favorite aspects of the architectural design of the station is the L-shaped covered walkway located to the rear of the station hall and around to the side. As a son of a carpenter, this is one of the areas where I was able to really appreciate the traditional Japanese-style carpentry. Even though you can find these covered walkways included within almost all of the older Japanese-era stations, out of those that I’ve visited so far, this one is my favorite as you can better appreciate its age when you’re there.

Paint chipping off of the station

Unfortunately, even though Tanwen Station is a protected historic property, it has certainly seen better days in terms of its condition. It’s unclear as to when the local government will ever pull the trigger on repairing the station, or having it completely restored - but if it doesn’t happen within the next few years, there might not be much left of the original building to restore.

One would hope that it would eventually receive the same treatment that the nearby Xiangshan Station has received, but only time will tell.

Still, I’m happy that I was able to check out the station in its original condition before it was fully repaired. If you feel the same way, and would like to enjoy a similar experience, I recommend planning a trip to the station within the near future. 

Getting There

 

Address: #29 Ren-ai Road, Zaoqiao Township, Miaoli County (苗栗縣造橋鄉談文村仁愛路29號) 

GPS: 24.656440 120.858330

As is the case with all of my articles about Taiwan’s historic railway stations, I’m going to say something that shouldn’t really surprise you - When you ask what is the best way to get to this train station, the answer should be pretty obvious: Take the train! 

Tanwen Railway Station is one of the first stations you’ll reach after passing over into Miaoli County from Hsinchu. There are however a couple of important things to remember about taking the train: The first is that the station is located south of Hsinchu Station (新竹車站) on the Coastal Line (海線), and the second is that the station is only serviced by local commuter trains (區間車). What this means is that if you take an express train from Taipei or anywhere north of Hsinchu, you’ll have to switch to a commuter train once you’re there.

Be very careful about this, because the majority of trains leaving Hsinchu will take the mountain line (山線), and that’s definitely not where you want to be (on this excursion anyway). The ride to the station should take less than half an hour (25 minutes to be precise) from Hsinchu, and once you’re there you’ll be able to check out the station at your leisure before hopping back on the train to your next destination.

And if you’re asking for recommendations, I’d suggest stopping by the other Japanese-era railway stations in the vicinity such as Xiangshan (香山車站), Dashan (大山車站) and Xinpu (新埔車站) - or hopping back on the Mountain Line to check out Zaoqiao Station (造橋車站) and Tongluo Station (銅鑼車站).

For most weekend visitors, the station acts as a starting point for the Zhenghan Trail (鄭漢紀念步道), a relatively short hiking trail that provides excellent views of the coast and the Coastal Railway. It’s also a pretty popular location for railway photographers to take landscape photos of trains coming through the coastal landscape. If you’re interested in the trail, I highly recommend checking out the link below, which provides all the information you’ll need about hiking the trail.

Link: Zhenghan Trail 鄭漢幾年步道 (Taiwan Trails and Tales)

If on the other hand you’re in the area and you’re driving a car or scooter, but still want to stop by and check out the station, that’s okay as well. You should be able to easily find the station if you input the address provided above into your GPS or Google Maps. The station is located along the side of the road in Miaoli’s Zaoqiao Township (造橋鄉). If you’re driving a car, the station is next to a busy country road where parking is somewhat awkward, although not entirely impossible - if you’re only stopping by for a short time.

When you arrive, you’re free to walk around and check it out as it is pretty much an empty shell these days with riders having to walk across the sky walk to the platforms to swipe in and out.

References

  1. 談文車站 | Tanwen Station | 談文駅 (Wiki) 

  2. 海線五寶 (Wiki)

  3. 細說苗栗「海線三寶」車站物語 (臺灣故事)

  4. 談文駅 (れとろ駅舎)

  5. 海線的老火車站 (二): 談文火車站 (Maggie’s Home)

  6. 『談文車站』苗栗縣定歷史建築~台鐵海線五寶之一的木造車站! (瑋瑋*美食萬歲 )

  7. 木造車站-海線五寶 (張誌恩 / 許正諱)

  8. 海線僅存五座木造車站:談文、大山、新埔、日南、追分全收錄!(David Win)