Taiwan Railways Administration

Taichung Train Station (臺中驛)

At some point during my elementary school years, my grandma arrived at our house to collect my sister and I for a trip to visit the extended family. Every summer we’d have a several day long family reunion in Halifax, but this time was different. Most of the time my grandfather would be in charge of driving us on the two hour journey to this city, but this time, he was busy with work, so he couldn’t join us. Instead, we drove to a local train station, and for the first time in my life, I stepped foot on a train.

For people here in Taiwan, getting on a train for the first time probably isn’t one of those memorable experiences that they remember vividly later in life, it’s just something that is simply part of daily life for a lot of people here that they take it for granted. For Canadians, though, taking a train, sadly, tends to be a very rare occurrence. I remember getting off the train, walking down a large covered platform, and then emerging into a massive open building, probably one of the largest buildings I had been in by that point in my life, and was in awe of the beauty of the European-style building.

Decades later, I found myself on a train bound south to the central Taiwanese city of Taichung for a weekend trip. When we arrived, I remember getting off of the train, walking down the platform to the station hall from which we’d start our weekend of exploration. Putting my ticket into the turnstile, I walked into the massive station, and was almost automatically transported back to that vivid childhood memory of my first experience on a train.

The station was busy, but the interior was massive, with high ceilings, white walls and European-style architecture. It wasn’t an experience that I was expecting, but it was one that I thoroughly enjoyed.

I didn’t particularly know that much about Taiwan at the time, so I never really put much thought into why the building appeared the way it did. but I enjoyed the quick reminder of my childhood experience, and then walked out of the station to check into our hotel for the weekend. Now that I’ve been in Taiwan for quite a while, and I’ve learned a lot about the nation’s history, I’m a little sad that I didn’t spend time taking photos of the station as it was while it was still in action.

Sadly, the historic Taichung Station, which had served the community just short of a century, like many other historic train stations around the country, was replaced with a modern-looking monstrosity, but came with the promise of increased efficiency, and for some people, that’s more important.

Actually, the modern station is quite beautiful in its own right, I shouldn’t be so harsh in my description. It’s a very well-designed open space, but it’ll never be as iconic as its predecessor.

Of the major Japanese-era railway stations, Taichung’s beautiful railway station was part of a short list of buildings that remained in operation almost a century after they were constructed. Today, only Hsinchu Station (新竹車站), Chiayi Station (嘉義車站) and Tainan Station (臺南車站) remain, and unsurprisingly, it seems like they might be running short on time, as well. Fortunately, unlike the disappearance of Japanese-era railway stations in Keelung (基隆車站), and Hualian (花蓮車站), local authorities had the foresight to preserve the historic station, giving the people of Taichung the peace of mind that even though some things might change, others would stay very much the same.

Today, I’m going to introduce the historic Taichung Train Station, it’s history, and its architectural design. Even though the station has recently been decommissioned, it has become part of a large cultural park that focuses on the history of the railway, something for which you’ll discover Taichung owes much of its prosperity to, so if you find yourself visiting the city today, a visit to the Railway Cultural Park that they have set up is a pretty good way to spend some of your time.

Taichung Railway Station (臺中驛 / たいちゆうえき)

To introduce the historic Taichung Railway Station, I’m going to do a bit of a deep dive into the events that led up to the arrival of the Japanese in Taiwan, and the development of the railway, which ushered in an era of modernity and economic opportunity that the people of Taiwan had yet to experience. While explaining how the railway became an instrumental tool for fueling the Japanese empire’s goal of extracting the island’s precious natural resources, I hope to also offer a bit of context as to why this station in particular became so important. Before I start, though, I need to reiterate that the building I’ll be introducing isn’t the current railway station, it’s the historic building that is located directly next door.

For anyone who has grown up in the Taichung, terms like ‘First Generation’, ‘Second Generation’ or ‘Third Generation’ don’t really mean anything - there’s only one Taichung Station, and there’s that newer-looking building next door where the trains currently come and go from. Understandably, when you’ve been the beating heart of a city for well over a century, it takes people a while to adjust to the newer situation.

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 arrival of the Japanese. A first for Taiwan, the railway project is arguably one of the most ambitious development projects undertaken by the Qing government while they still held control of the island. Under the leadership of Liu Mingchuan (劉銘傳), who would end up being the last governor of Taiwan, at its height, the Qing-era railway stretched from the port city of Keelung (基隆) to Hsinchu (新竹). However, even though the project was led by foreign engineers, the end result turned out to be a rudimentary, treacherous route that ultimately came at far too high of a cost to continue financing. Suffice to say, none of this should be particularly surprising, especially when you take into consideration that during the two centuries that the Qing controlled portions of the island, they never particularly cared very much about developing it, and this was especially true during the final few decades of their administration as they were more occupied with war (and revolution) at home.

The Manchu’s came to power in China at a time when the previous rulers had become far too weak to contend with constant rebellions and civil disorder. 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. Putting it bluntly, the level of corruption and incompetence prevented China from modernizing its military, but it also resulted in them shooting themselves in the proverbial foot with some diplomatic missteps that led to war with Japan.

Known today as the ‘First Sino-Japanese War’ (1894-1895), the whole affair ended about as quickly as it began, resulting in considerable embarrassment for the Qing rulers, who were completely unprepared to wage a modern war against a well-equipped Japanese military. The year-long war ultimately shifted the balance of power in Asia from China to Japan, and would be one of the catalysts for revolution in China that would just a few years later bring thousands of years of imperial rule to an end.

Unable to successfully wage war against the Japanese, the Qing were forced to sue for peace a little more than six months into the war. This resulted in the signing of the Treaty of Shimonoseki (下関条約), which forced China to recognize the independence of Korea, and the Chinese would have to pay Japan reparations amounting to 8,000,000kg of silver. More importantly with regard to this article however, it also meant that Taiwan, and the Penghu Islands would be ceded to Japan in perpetuity.

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, and the indigenous people. Over the next five months, the Japanese gradually made their way south fighting a nasty 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 and resistance to their rule lasted for quite a few more years, resulting in some brutal events taking place during that time.

Nevertheless, similar to the war with China, the superiority of the modern Japanese military easily dispatched the local armies, which vastly outnumbered them. The campaign, however taught the Japanese a hard, yet valuable lesson as figures show that over ninety-percent of the Japanese military deaths were caused by malaria-related complications.

Taiwan’s hostile environment turned out to be one of the main reasons why the Qing were so ambivalent towards the island, but is something that the Japanese were intent on addressing, 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.

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, and they were tasked with getting the existing Qing-era railway back up and running, as well as coming up with proposals for extending the railway around the island. As the military made its way south, the team of 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 railroad pass through each of Taiwan’s established western coast 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 of the railway 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 some unforeseen complications, the central area met with delays and construction issues due to the necessity for the construction of a number of bridges and tunnels through the mountains.

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 authorities touted the completion of the railway as part of a new era of peace and stability in Taiwan, and one that would help to usher in a new period of modernization, one that would bring economic stability to the people of the island - and for the most part, they were right about that.

The completion of the railway was instrumental in the development of the island and was a stark contrast from what the Qing considered a “ball of mud beyond the pale of civilization” (海外泥丸,不足為中國加廣) to an integral part of the Japanese empire.

Link: Mid-Lake Pavilion (湖心亭)

While the construction of the railroad, for the most part, seems to have gone by quite smoothly, as mentioned earlier, the central region was faced with delays in its completion in part due to poor planning and the necessity for the construction of large bridges and tunnels, which took longer than anticipated. That being said, by 1905, there were trains running a limited service route within Taichu Prefecture (臺中廳 / たいちゅうちょう) prior to their eventual connection with the northern and southern portions of the railway across the Da’an (大安溪) and Dadu (大肚溪) rivers.

One of the stations along the limited service route was the First Generation Taichung Railway Station (台中停車場), a modest single-story wooden station hall, which officially opened on June 10th, 1905 ( (明治38年). For the three years prior to the completion of the railway, the ‘Taichung Line’ connected the downtown of Taichung with Koroton Station (葫產激驛 / ころとんえき), Tanshiken Station (潭仔乾驛 / たんしけん), Ujitsu Station (烏日驛 / うじつえき), and Daito Station (大肚驛 / だいとえき), known today as Fengyuan (豐原), Tanzi (潭子), Wuri (烏日) and Chenggong (成功) Stations, respectively.

First Generation Taichung Railway Station

Link: Railway Station Name Change Chart (臺灣日治時期火車站新舊地名對照表)

With the completion of the Western Trunk Railway in 1908, Taichung, like many other major settlements around Taiwan experienced an economic boom, and as its economy thrived, more and more people made their way to the city to take part in the economic successes, that were in large part thanks to the railway. As the most important passenger and freight station in central Taiwan, Taichung Station quickly became an extremely busy place, and after less than a decade, the city had already outgrown its small wooden station hall. Thus, when the decision was made to replace the original station with a new one. This time, though, Taichung Station would become one of the largest stations on the island and would be one that reflected the prosperous community that it served.

Second Generation Taichung Railway Station

That being said, while construction of the new station was getting underway, some of the issues and delays caused during the construction of central Taiwan’s railway ended up persisting long after its completion. With the constant threat of earthquakes and typhoons creating major service disruptions, and the fact that central Taiwan was an important region for the extraction of sugarcane, fruit, and other commodities, the Railway Department of the Governor General of Taiwan (台灣總督府交通局鐵道部) was forced to come up with a solution to the problem. The answer came in the form of the “Kaigan-sen” (かいがんせん / 海岸線), or the Coastal Railway Branch Line, which started just south of Hsinchu and connected with the Western Trunk railway in the south of Taichung.

Link: The Coastal Railway Five Treasures (海線五寶) | Tai’an Railway Station (泰安舊車站)

The ‘Second Generation Taichung Railway Station’ officially opened on November 6th, 1917 (大正6年) - Much larger than the first generation building, the 436㎡ (132坪) station was constructed with reinforced concrete, red bricks and a beautiful wooden roof using a mixture of European Renaissance Architectural design. The construction of the second generation station was also an important time with regard to the expansion of the platform space, which was expanded to a size of 403㎡ (122坪), offering a covered roof for people waiting for their trains to arrive, and the installation of an underground walkway to replace the overpass that was constructed for the first generation building.

Over the following century, Taichung Station became one of the longest-serving symbols of the city, sharing important cultural and historic links with the people of Taichung. The station has lived through war, the subsequent authoritarian era, and has witnessed first hand a modern city develop around it. Like many of its contemporaries, however, the station fell victim to modernity, and in 2016, ninety-nine years after the first train rolled into the station, the final train departed.

It may have been the end of an era for the storied station hall, but we are fortunate that the local government had the foresight to realize that the historic building holds a special place in the hearts of the citizens of the city, said to ‘served as the iconic beating heart of the city.’ If they tore it down and replaced like so many of the other historic railway stations around the country, there might have been riots in the streets. Today, the historic Taichung Railway Station is part of a large railway cultural park next to the current station, and the people of Taichung, and the rest of us, are able to enjoy its continued existence.

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

    • 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 island.

    • 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 railway plan to be constructed along the western and eastern coasts of the island.

    • 1905 (明治38年) - The First Generation Taichung Station (台中停車場) opens for operation.

    • 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).

    • 1909 (明治42年) - A cross-platform sky bridge is constructed alongside the first freight warehouse.

    • 1913 (大正3年) - The Western Trunk Railway is extended further south to Pingtung (屏東), known then as Ako (阿緱/あこう).

    • 1917 (大正6年) - Construction on the Second Generation Taichung Railway Station is completed with an official opening ceremony held on November 6th.

    • 1919 (大正8年) - Construction on the "Kaigan-sen” (かいがんせん / 海岸線), coastal branch railway in the Miaoli-Taichung area gets underway.

    • 1922 (大正11年) - The Coastal Railway is completed and opens for operation.

    • 1923 (大正12年) - Crown Prince Hirohito makes an official visit to the city.

    • 1925 (大正14年) - Prince Chichibu (秩父宮雍仁親王) makes an official visit to the city.

    • 1926 (昭和1年) - Prince Takamatsu (高松宮宣仁親王) makes an official visit to the city.

    • 1935 (昭和35年) - The magnitude 7.1 Shinchiku-Taichū earthquake (新竹‧台中地震 / しんちく‧たいちゅうじしん) with an epicenter in nearby Houli (后里) rocks the island becoming the deadliest quake in Taiwan’s recorded history and causes massive damage around the island.

    • 1945 (昭和45年) - The station is heavily damaged during Allied Bombing raids.

    • 1946 (民國35年) - President Chiang Kai-Shek (蔣介石) marks his first visit to Taichung, traveling by train.

    • 1947 (民國36年) - Residents of Taichung hold a ‘228 Incident’ (二二八事件民眾起意大會) speaking event outside of the railway station, resulting in one of the first government crackdowns in central Taiwan.

    • 1949 (民國38年) - The Rear Station Hall (後站) officially opens.

    • 1964 (民國53年) - The Rear Station Hall is restored and renovated.

    • 1979 (民國68年) - The Taiwan Railway Corporation completes construction on the electrification of the Western Trunk Line.

    • 1995 (民國83年) - The government designates Taichung Station as a Second Grade Protected Historic Building (二級古蹟).

    • 1999 (民國88年) - The devastating 921 Earthquake (921大地震) in central Taiwan causes a tremendous amount of damage to the railway, shutting it down for almost two weeks.

    • 2005 (民國94年) - Taichung Railway Station celebrates its centennial, and the earthquake reparation work on the station is completed after a several year long project.

    • 2012 (民國101年) - Construction on the Third Generation Elevated Taichung Station (臺中車站高架化新站) breaks ground.

    • 2016 (民國105年) - On October 15th, the final express train to pass through the historic ground-level railway station is dispatched from Pingtung on its way to Taipei. The next day, the first northbound train departed from the elevated station at 6:25am, and a few minutes later, the first southbound train departed at 6:33am.

    • 2017 (民國106年) - The Second Generation Taichung Railway Station officially celebrates its centennial anniversary.

    • 2020 (民國109年) - The massive 19,800m2 Taichung Railway Cultural Park (臺中驛鐵道文化園區) is officially inaugurated, and the historic railway station is reopened to the public as part of a park that will continue to expand over the next few years as other historic buildings are restored.

Architectural Design

Looking back, it’s safe to say that the construction of Taiwan’s major railway stations certainly wasn’t an undertaking that the Japanese authorities took lightly. For each of Taiwan’s major population centers, the colonial government constructed a building that was ostentatious not only in its size, but it’s architectural design as well. For those of you who live in or have visited Taiwan, you may find it difficult to believe, but over a century ago, the island was pretty much devoid of development - prior to the arrival of the Japanese in 1895, it would have been extremely rare to see major construction projects like this, so massive buildings like this would have been something completely new to the people living here.

To put it in perspective, the construction of this station is likely to have aroused a similar type of awe and amazement as Taipei 101 did while it was under construction.

Of particular note, the railway stations constructed in Keelung, Taipei, Hsinchu, Taichung, Chiayi, Tainan, and Kaohsiung were highly regarded for their architectural beauty, most of which made use of a fusion of European and Japanese architectural design, with reinforced concrete, something that was quite uncommon, and very expensive, in the early years of the colonial era.

Something I’ve found to be quite a head-scratcher, and what seems to be one of the most common inaccuracies that you’ll find with regard to discussions about the Taichung Railway Station is the ‘person’ credited with its architectural design. So, let me take a minute to explain what’s actually getting lost in translation here. Most of the resources you’ll find regarding the architectural design of the station is that it was designed by an architect named Tatsuno Kingo (辰野 金吾 / たつの きんご), and oddly enough, both the Chinese and English resources that you’ll find misinterpret this fact.

In actuality, Tatsuno is fondly remembered as one of the founding members of the Architectural Institute of Japan, first studying under Josiah Conder, who is considered the “father of Japanese modern architecture,” before traveling to study architecture at the University of London. When he eventually returned to Japan, he took up a position as the Dean of Architecture at the University of Tokyo, and instructed many of the young designers who would follow in his footsteps. Tatsuno’s designs were inspired by the work of Christopher Wren and William Burges, architects whose work he studied during his years at the University of London. As part of the first generation of European-trained Japanese architects, Tatsuno’s architectural styles influenced many of those who followed in his footsteps designing modern buildings in the European Classical and Victorian styles.

In the early days of Taiwan’s colonial era, young Japanese architects likely salivated at the opportunity to come to Taiwan. The island was essentially a blank canvas, and with the government’s support, they hopped on boats and came to a place where they had considerably more freedom to be creative with their urban development projects. That being said, Tatsuno, who is known for his work with the Bank of Japan, Tokyo Station, the National Sumo Arena, etc, never actually made it to Taiwan, passing away in 1919.

Nevertheless, in order to do the building honor, the architects at the Department of Public Works (臺灣總督府交通局鐵道部) took inspiration from Tatsuno’s work, which by that time had become known as the “Tatsuno style” (辰野式), and with so many of his students employed in Taiwan, it shouldn’t surprise anyone that buildings like Presidential Building (總統府), the Monopoly Bureau (專賣局), Taichung City Hall (臺中市役所), and the Ximen Red House (西門紅樓), among others, were all inspired by his work.

Making use of a combination of red bricks and white stone in decorative patterns, with the addition of dormer windows, straight-flowing lines and beautiful stone pillars, Tatsuno’s style imitated the architectural designs he observed while studying in London. Combining elements of Gothic, Baroque, Renaissance and Art-Nouveau in a mixture that architects of the era referred to as “Free Classical,” (自由古典風格) it’s rather obvious that quite a few of these elements are elegantly put on display within the Taichung Railway’s architectural design. So, even though Tatsuno didn’t personally design the station, a quick look at one of his masterpieces, Tokyo Station (東京驛) should give you a pretty good idea as to where the inspiration for this station came from.

Interestingly, Tatsuno Kingo (金吾) was often referred to instead as “Kengo” (堅固), a play on words in Japanese that referred to the firmness and symmetry for which his buildings were designed. With that in mind, following the Tatsuno-style of ‘Free Classical’ design, the Taichung Train Station follows suit with equally-sized eastern and western wings connected to a tower located directly in the center of the building.

While the building looks large enough to have several floors, once you enter, you’ll notice that the interior space features high ceilings, which are naturally lit by the large windows in the center and along the eastern and western wings. The lobby is a bright and spacious room featuring white walls with the wings only separated only by stone columns, which help to stabilize the weight of the roof above.

If you look carefully at the stone columns within the building, you’ll notice a bit of localization going on with the inclusion of decorative elements featuring a variety of local produce, including bananas, pomegranates, pineapples, wax apples with a mixture of flowers and plants.

While the columns within the interior are decorative and celebrate central Taiwan’s agricultural prowess, what you don’t see is their functionality, which is covered by the closed ceiling. Within the attic space, there is an intricate network of wooden roof trusses and beams that have been installed to help stabilize the four-sided sloping gable roof that covers the station. The space above the eastern and western wings does the majority of the work with regard to stabilization as the central section, which features the iconic clock tower.

The central portion of the station tends to be the most architecturally significant section of the building as it protrudes from the roof in both the front and the rear. The space features a large front door as well as an open space at the rear where passengers would make their way through the turnstiles to the platform area. Protruding from the four-sided gable roof in the front, the central portion features its own two-sided roof with stone-carved floral and fruit displays at the apex and on the left and right.

The clock-tower rises up above the mid-section and features a four-sided copper roof of its own, with a spire reaching from the center.

While I’m not particularly sure if there was a clock in this space or not, the circular section in the middle facing outward from the building was replaced with the ‘Taiwan Railway’ logo at some point after the Japanese Colonial Era ended.

Once you’ve gone through the turnstiles to the platform area, one of the things you’ll want to pay attention to are the cast-iron columns along the platform space that maintain a similar approach to the Renaissance-style of architectural design. This is actually one of the only railway stations in Taiwan that maintains its original Japanese-era architectural designs, so when the area was restored, they made sure that extra attention was paid to these columns along the platform, which in some cases look like they’re straight out of Rome.

Speaking to the restoration of the building, it’s important to note some of the changes that took place within the station over the years. Today, if you visit, you’ll find the original wooden ticket booth, which has been well-preserved. That being said, as the city grew, the amount of passengers passing through the station increased. Thus, the eastern wing was renovated to feature a much larger ticket booth with offices for the station master and staff.

You can see the original train schedule displayed above this space, and there are currently informative displays in this space that help visitors understand the history of the building. The chairs within the western waiting space have been removed, and the space is now open with some educational displays added that help visitors understand the architectural design.

Taichung Railway Cultural Park (臺中驛鐵道文化園區)

A few years after operations at the century-old railway station were transferred to the newly constructed elevated station, the ‘Taichung Railway Cultural Park’ was officially inaugurated. Located next to the current railway station, the park not only includes the historic Taichung Station, but several other historic railway-related structures as well. That being said, the roll out of these historic structures, and their restoration continues to be a work in progress.

As I noted in my article regarding the role that Public-Private Partnerships (linked below) have played in the conservation of historic buildings in Taiwan, the Taichung Railway Cultural Park is almost a case study in its own right as the formation of the park has utilized a complex combination of OT (Operate-Transfer), ROT (Rehabilitate-Operate-Transfer) and BOT (Build-Operate-Transfer) agreements with regard to the restoration and operation of the spaces within the park.

As part of the private partnerships operation agreement, the newly constructed elevated railway station also includes an impressive space on the first and second floors where visitors can enjoy local restaurants and purchase souvenirs from the city. As one of the city’s largest transport hubs, the railway station portion of the park can be a pretty busy place, but it has also become a popular spot for weekend pop-up markets, which are held along the historic train platform areas attracting quite a few visitors. It’s also become a great stop for foodies who can either enjoy a meal in one of the fifty-or-so restaurants within the park, or from some of the vendors within the market.

Similarly, if you’re a fan of the railway, it’s a great place to visit to enjoy the history of one of Taiwan’s oldest train stations, with exhibitions about its history, and even some historic trains that you can get on and check out.

Link: The role of Public-Private Partnerships in Conserving Historic Buildings in Taiwan

The culture park (currently) consists of the Second and Third Generation Railway Stations, the historic Taichung Rear Station (臺中後站), the Taichung Railway Freight Warehouses (二十號倉庫建築群), Taichung Station Railway Dormitories (復興路寄宿舍) and the Taiwan Connection 1908 railway path (臺中綠空鐵道). As mentioned above, though, not all of the buildings within the park have been restored and reopened to the public. Thus far, the historic train station, the rail platforms, the freight warehouses, and the green corridor have been opened. The railway dormitories and the rear station on the other hand are still in the process of being restored, and it’s unclear as to when they’ll have their official opening.

One of the best things about the park is that if you’re interested in the city’s history, you’re also a short walk from the historic Teikoku Sugar Factory Headquarters (帝國製糖廠臺中營業所), Taichung Park (台中公園), Taichung City Hall (台中市役所), the Taichung Prefectural Hall (台中州廳), and the Taichung Prison Martial Arts Hall. Similarly, the Taichung Confucius Temple (台中孔廟), Taichung Martyrs Shrine (臺中市忠烈祠) and the Taichung Literary Park (台中文學館) are all close by, and each of them originated during the Japanese-era, albeit with some caveats.

Unfortunately, even though the government has spent a considerable amount of money restoring buildings and making the railway park a really cool place to visit, the amount of information you’ll find available about it online is pretty weak. One of Taiwan’s biggest problems when it comes to tourism is that the government is willing to spend the money to develop these places, but when it comes to marketing them, especially to an international audience, they have absolutely no idea what to do. If you don’t believe me, feel free to click the link below to check out the railway park’s official website. I highly doubt you’ll be blown away by the effort that was put into its creation, or the amount of information that’s available.

Website: Taichung Railway Cultural Park (臺中驛鐵道文化園區) | Facebook Page

Hours: 11:00-21:00 (Monday to Friday), 10:30 - 21:30 (weekends and national holidays).

Getting There

 

Address: No. 1, Sec. 1, Taiwan Boulevard, Taichung (臺中市中區臺灣大道一段1號)

GPS: 24.141480, 120.680400

Whenever I write about one of Taiwan’s train stations, obviously the best advice for getting there is to take the train. Even though the historic Taichung Train Station has been put out of operation, both the station and the Taichung Railway Cultural Park are conveniently accessible via the newly constructed elevated Taichung Railway Station. So, if you’re coming from out of town, no matter if you’re coming from the north or the south, once you arrive at Taichung Station, you’re able to visit the culture park as soon as you exit the gates. That being said, if you’re arriving in town by way of the High Speed Rail, you’re going to have to transfer from the HSR station to the Xinwuri TRA Station (新烏日站), both of which are directly connected to each other. From there, you’ll make your way to Taichung Station, which is only four stops away.

If you’re in the city with a car, simply drive to Taichung Station, with the address provided above input into your GPS. There is a parking lot located within the lower levels of the station, so finding parking near the park is quite easy. Similarly, if you’re driving a scooter, you’ll find quite a bit of parking to the right of the historic station running perpendicular along Jianguo Road (建國路). It shouldn’t be too difficult to find a parking space, unless of course you’re visiting during a national holiday.

Old stamps for printing tickets

If you’re already in the city, but would like to visit, the park unfortunately isn’t accessible via the newly opened Taichung MRT, and it doesn’t look like it will be in the near future. So, if you want to make use of public transportation, the city has a number of buses that stop at both the front and rear sections of the station. The number of buses is quite expansive, so instead of listing them here, click the link to the Taichung Bus (台中客運) website below, where you can find the schedule and prices for each of the buses that service the station.

Link: Taichung Bus - Taichung Railway Station Buses

If you weren’t already aware, due to the lack of a proper subway system in the city for so long, the bus network has become quite expansive, convenient and reliable. If you’re in the city, taking the bus is probably one of your best options for getting around. If like most people, the bus network is a bit intimidating, never fear, simply open up Google Maps and set the Train Station as your destination, and the bus routes that you’ll need to take from wherever you are.

While living in Taiwan, I was fortunate enough to pass through the gates of the historic train station on quite a few occasions while it was still in operation. I’ve always been a big fan of Taichung, and there’s always quite a bit to do when visiting the city. In the near future, the city will be opening several new Japanese-era culture parks, so it’s likely that I’ll be making my way down there more often to check out some of these newly opened tourist attractions. Now that the train station has become part of a much larger culture park, it is a convenient place to check out, especially given that it is located next to the current station. If you’re arriving in town by the train, like so many millions of others have since 1905, you’re automatically treated to a birds-eye view of how Taichung has developed into a major city over the past century.

References

  1. Taichung Railway Station | 臺中車站 中文 | 台中駅 日文 (Wiki)

  2. 臺中火車站 古蹟 (Wiki)

  3. Taichu Prefecture | 臺中州 中文 | 台中州 日文 (Wiki)

  4. Tatsuno Kingo | 辰野金吾 中文 | 辰野金吾 日文 (Wiki)

  5. 第二級古蹟臺中火車站整體修復工程調查研究及修護計畫 (臺灣記憶)

  6. 國定古蹟臺中火車站保存計畫 (文化部)

  7. 台中火車站 (國家文化資料庫)

  8. 臺中火車站 (國家文化資產網)

  9. 台中車站 (舊) (鐵貓)

  10. Taichung Station Railway Cultural Park (臺中驛鐵路文化園區)

  11. 台中車站‧台灣唯一跨時代三代同堂的大車站 (旅行圖中)

  12. 臺中驛 (Wilhelm Cheng)

  13. Departing from where it all started: Taichung Railway Station (Taiwan Fun)


Railway Station Name Change Chart (臺灣日治時期火車站新舊地名對照表)

The purpose of this website, and by extension this blog, has always been to showcase my photography and my travels around Taiwan. Over the years, I’ve been quite adamant that my photos should always be used to help tell the story of the places I’ve been visiting around the country. This article is thus going to be somewhat of a first for me and I’m publishing it mostly just to serve as a reference for a few of my other articles.

To start, I should offer a bit of a backstory: I don’t spend all that much time on social media, but from time to time, I find some real gems shared in the Taiwanese history groups that I follow. So while browsing recently, I came across a photo of (what appeared to be) something out of a newspaper. The photo appeared aged, and featured a list of locations in Taiwan that were part of a major name-change policy that took effect in the early 1920s.

This was something that automatically interested me, especially since it was primarily focused on the railway, so given that it was all in Chinese, I quickly translated parts of it, and shared it on my Twitter. I’m not necessarily going to suggest that the tweet went viral, but it did attract quite a bit of attention, especially from Taiwanese followers who commented that they had no idea about many of the original place names that they were seeing on the photo.

The photo appeared to be an announcement from the Japanese-era Taiwan Railway Bureau (台灣鐵道部), listing a number railway stations around the island that were changing their names. Most of the information that was listed on the chart wasn’t particularly new to me, but it was the first time that I had seen it put together, especially on something that looked official.

Honestly, this is an aspect of Taiwan’s history that I’ve probably touched upon more than a few dozen times on my various articles about the Japanese-era, so I thought it best that I put together this article, and make use of the chart to expand upon what took place. One of the other reasons I’m writing this, though, is because there isn’t much information available in the English language regarding some of these original location names. I thought it would be helpful for anyone interested to learn about aspects of Taiwan’s history that aren’t often mentioned.

This time, in lieu of my own photos, I’m just going to share maps of Taiwan from the Japanese-era, which are often beautifully designed, but also feature some of those location names prior to being changed.

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

In the early years of the Japanese-era, Taiwan's administrative districts were a bit of a mess, with about twenty somewhat unorganized prefectures (廳). By the time Emperor Taisho (大正天皇) had come to power, the situation in Taiwan had started to become much more organized, and after more than two decades of development, many of the villages, towns and cities that we know today had stated to take shape, with infrastructure in place to properly administer the island.

In 1920 (大正9年), the Japanese government in Tokyo instituted an administrative policy that standardized Taiwan’s geographic administrative areas with those in the rest of the country. Known as the ‘Dōka Policy’ (同化 / どーか), Taiwan’s administrative areas were converted from the original ‘prefectures’ (廳 / cho / ちょう) into the same ‘prefectures’ (州 / shu / しゅう) that were used in Japan at the time. It was during this time that they also reduced the original number of prefectures from twenty to eight.

As of 1920, Taiwan’s eight prefectures were:

  1. Taihoku (臺北州 / たいほくしゅう): Modern day Taipei, New Taipei City, Keelung, Yilan

  2. Shinchiku (新竹州 / しんちくしゅう): Modern day: Taoyuan, Hsinchu, Miaoli

  3. Taichu (臺中州 / たいちゅうしゅう): Modern day: Taichung, Changhua, Nantou,

  4. Tainan (臺南州 / たいなんしゅう): Modern day: Chiayi, Yunlin, Tainan,

  5. Takao (高雄州 / たかおしゅう): Modern day: Kaohsiung, Pingtung

  6. Karenko (花蓮港廳 / かれんこうちょう): Modern day: Hualien

  7. Taito (臺東廳 / たいとうちょう): Modern day: Taitung, Green Island, Orchid Island

  8. Hoko (澎湖廳 /ほうこちょう): Modern day: Penghu Islands

Within each of these prefectures, you would have found subdivisions in the form of cities (市 / し) and counties (郡 / ぐん), which were then divided up into neighborhoods (町 / まち), towns (街 / がい), villages (庄 / そう) and Indigenous communities (蕃地 / ばんち), respectively.

While the colonial government was drawing up all of these new administrative districts, another issue that had to be dealt with were the names of some of these places. While it’s true that many of the major towns and villages around the island kept their original names, the Japanese weren’t exactly the biggest fans of some of them, so they decided to make some changes.

Prior to the arrival of the Japanese in 1895, Taiwan had been inhabited first it’s various tribes of indigenous peoples, then settlers from China started making their way across the strait, followed by the Portuguese, Spanish, Dutch, English, etc. With names derived from so many different influences, the Japanese sought to create a system that was not only modern, but easier to understand.

For those of you who are interested in the changes, I’ve put together a list of some of the name changes that took place in 1922. It’s a long list, and I’m only going to provide their original name, the name they changed to, and their current name. I won’t spend time translating each of them to Japanese as many of them also appear below:

  • 1. Chúi-tng-kha (水返腳) → Sek-chí / Xizhi (汐止) Hokkien origin

    2. Sek-kháu (錫口) → Siông-san / Songshan (松山) Hokkien origin

    3. Pressinowan (叭哩沙) → Sam-sing / Sanxing (三星) Ketagalan origin

    4. Pang-kiô (枋橋) → Pang-kiô / Banqiao (板橋) Hokkien origin

    5. Sann-kak-íng (三角湧) → Sam-kiap / Sanxia (三峽) Hokkien origin

    6. Kiâm-chhài-àng (鹹菜硼) → Guanˋ si / Guanxi (關西) Hakka origin

    7. On Phìn-tsṳ́n (安平鎮) → Phìn-tsun / Pingzhen (平鎮) Hakka origin

    8. Rhong moi lag (楊梅壢) → Rhong moi / Yangmei (楊梅) Hakka origin

    9. Takoham (大嵙崁) → Thai-hâi / Daxi (大溪) Ketagalan origin

    10. Su-gi-na (樹杞林) → Tek-tang / Zhudong (竹東) Hakka origin

    11. Co-sân (草山) → Pó-sân / Baoshan (寶山) Hakka origin

    12. Tonsuyan (屯消) → Thunsiau / Tongxiao (通霄) Taokas Origin

    13. Ataabu (阿罩霧) → Bu-hong / Wufeng (霧峰) Hoanya origin

    14. Sann-tsa̍p-tiunn-lê (三十張犁) → Pak-tun / Beitun (北屯) Hokkien origin

    15. Thài-pîng (太平) → Tua-pîng / Daping (大平) Hokkien origin

    16. Holotun (葫蘆墩) → Hong-guân / Fengyuan (豐原) Saisiyat origin

    17. Gû-mâ-thâu (牛罵頭) → Tshing-tsuí / Qingshui (清水) Hokkien origin

    18. Ka-tâu (茄投) → Liông-tsínn / Longjing (龍井) Hokkien origin

    19. Khóo Ka-ióng (茄苳腳) → Hue-tuânn / Huatan (花壇) Hokkien origin

    20. Kuan-tè thiann (關帝廳) → Éng-tseng / Yongjing (永靖) Hokkien origin

    21. Huan-á-uat (番仔挖) → Sua-suann / Shashan (沙山) Hokkien origin

    22. Chháu-ê-tun (草鞋墩) → Chháu-tùn / Caotun (草屯) Hokkien origin

    23. Lâm-ngá (湳仔) → Bêng-kan / Mingjian (名間) Hokkien origin

    24. Toukouva (塗庫) → Jîn-tik / Rende (仁德) Siraya origin

    25. Tavocan (大目降) → Sin-huà / Hsinhua (新化) Siraya origin

    26. Tapani (噍吧哖) → Ta-pa-nî / Yujing (玉井) Taivoan origin

    27. Tackalan (直加弄) → An-ting / Anding (安定) Siraya origin

    28. Saulang (蕭壠) → Ka-lí / Jiali (佳里) Siraya origin

    29. Tiàm-á-kháu (店仔口) → Peh-hô / Baihe (白河) Hokkien origin

    30. Tá-bâ (打貓) → Bîn-hiông / Minxiong (民雄) Hoanya origin

    31. Muî-a-khenn (梅仔坑) → Sió-muî / Xiaomei (小梅) Hokkien origin

    32. Dalivoe (他里霧) → Táu-lâm-tìn / Dounan (斗南) Hoanya origin

    33. Phok-a-kioh (樸仔腳) → Phoh-tsú / Puzi (朴子) Hokkien origin

    34. Takao (打狗) → Ko-hiông / Kaohsiung (高雄) Makatao origin

    35. Han-chî-liâu (蕃薯藔) → Kî-san / Qishan (旗山) Hakka origin

    36. Mì-nùng (彌濃) → Mì-nùng / Meinong (美濃) Hakka origin

    37. Akaw (阿緱) → Pîn-tong / Pingtung (屏東) Paiwan origin

    38. Vangecul (蚊蟀) → Buán-tsiu / Manzhou (滿州) Paiwan origin

    39. Má-keng (媽宮) → Má-keng / Magong (馬公) Hokkien origin

In some cases the names of these towns changed completely, but for the most part most of them remained the same, albeit with simple changes in the ‘Kanji’ (Chinese characters) that were thought to make them more ‘elegant.’

To better explain what I mean, I’m going to start by offering a few specific, and probably the most obvious, examples of how these names changed:

The most obvious example of these name changes was in the southern port city that we refer today as Kaohsiung. Originally inhabited by the Makatao (馬卡道族) and Siraya (西拉雅族) indigenous groups, the area was referred as ‘Takau Island’ translating to 'bamboo forest island’ in the indigenous languages. When Chinese settlers arrived in the area, they heard the name ‘Takau’ and assigned the Chinese characters ‘打狗’, which translates literally as ‘beating a dog,’ something none of us should ever do.

When the Japanese arrived in Taiwan, the name of the city remained the same, but in 1920, they changed the Kanji from ‘打狗’ to ‘高雄’ (高雄 / たかお), which had the same 'pronunciation in Japanese. Considered far too crude to be the name of a Japanese city and an international port, the colonial government came up with something that was so good that when the Chinese Nationalists arrived in 1945, instead of changing the name from the Japanese 'Takao', they just left the Chinese characters the same, which is why the city has since been known as ‘Kaohsiung' in the Chinese language.

In a similar case, the town we know today as Minxiong (民雄) also had a name that the Japanese frowned upon - The (then) small village in Chiayi (嘉義) was originally named ’Dovaha’ (擔貍社) by the Dutch, who gave it the name in honor of the Pingpu Tribe (平埔族) that settled there. Later, the name was translated from Dutch into Taiwanese Hokkien as ‘Tá-bâ’ (打貓), or ‘beating a cat.’ Once again, instead of changing the pronunciation of the name, different characters were chosen to represent the town. Pronounced ‘Tamio’ (たみお) in Japanese, the words “民雄” (Hero of the People) were chosen instead.

There are of course other examples of how these name changes took place that didn’t have to do with animal cruelty, or the names being inappropriate. Take Kaohsiung’s district of Gangshan (岡山區) as an example. Originally named ‘A-kong-tiàm‘ (阿公店), or ‘Grandfather’s Shop’, the origin of the name of the town has a few different interpretations. One explanation was that due to its geographic location as a trading space between the ports in Tainan and Kaohsiung, the area was full of stores run by seniors. Hilariously, there are also claims that the name was actually just given to the space because there was an old guy in the middle of no where with a store.

Either way, the name ‘A-kong-tiàm’ didn’t really translate very well to Japanese, so they changed it entirely - The new name for the district of Takao Prefecture, which was being developed as a suburb became known as ‘Okayama’ (岡山 / おかやま), named after one of the Japanese main island’s prefectures. Once again, when the Republic of China took over in the 1940s, the name remained the same, with the pronunciation changed to ‘Gangshan’ instead of ‘Okayama’ and remains so to this day.

There is, however, a reservoir in the area that retains the ‘A-kong-tiàm’ name, a nod to the town’s history.

Link: 大字 (おおあざ) | 小字 (こあざ) - Wikipedia

The Tainan of the early 1900s.

My final example before moving on is one that is simply just a linguistic difference between Chinese, Taiwanese and Japanese, and most of the name changes that took place are due to these linguistic differences. If I use the Japanese-era ‘Shanjia Train Station’ (山佳車站) as an example, the original name of the area was ‘Suann á kioh’ (山仔腳), referring to its location at the foot of a mountain. The problem was that the character ‘仔’(zai), which is quite common in Taiwanese Hokkien isn’t very common in Japanese.

When it came to characters that weren’t commonly used in Kanji, like this, they simply replaced the ‘仔’ with a similar, simplified version of the character, like ‘子’, for example.

With these examples, I think you should have somewhat of an introduction to the thought process behind some of these changes. In some instances, the Japanese felt the names were inappropriate, in others they just didn’t translate well, and in others, they were simplified for convenience. Below, I’ll list each of the name changes that are displayed on the chart.

At this time, I’m not going to go into detail about the origin of each of the names, but I will provide their original name, their Japanese-era name, and their current name so that you can better understand how these things have evolved over time. If you’re interested in the linguistic changes mentioned in the third example above, click the drop down below, where I’ve provided a list of the most common character changes:

  •  ‘(á) zi’ 「仔」was changed to ‘zi’「子」

    ‘hong’「藔」was changed to  ‘liáo’「寮」

    ‘hun’ 「份」was changed to ‘fèn’ 「分」

    ‘bei’ 「陂」was changed to ‘po’ 「坡」

    ‘shén’「什」was changed to ‘shí’「十」

    ‘tun’「墩」was changed to ‘tún’「屯」

    ‘ào’「澚」was changed to ‘ào’「澳」

    ‘gang’「崗」was changed to ‘gang’「岡」

    ‘khu’「坵」was changed to ‘qiu’「丘」

    ‘muâ’「蔴」was changed to ‘má’「麻」

    ‘diàn’「佃」was changed to ‘tián’「田」

Now, let me spend some time dissecting the inspiration for this article, the photo that appeared on my social media feed, all of which I’ve broken up and translated for you below:

To start, in the direct center of the diagram, you’ll find the vertical text: “Taisho Year 11, Taiwan Railway Station Name Change Chart” (大正十一年台灣鐵道停車場中改稱名新舊對照表), splitting the diagram into four different sections, or regions of the island.

For each of the stations, I’ll start with their original Japanese name, their name after being changed, and then their current name. I’ll also provide a link to each of the stations for any of you who are interested in learning more about the stations, many of which are now well-over a century old.

Note: In some cases, the romanization of these names could be a bit off, but I’ve done my best translating from several different languages to give readers a better idea of these changes.

Starting in the south, we have the following eleven name changes:

  1. Chushusou Station (中州庄乗降場) → Chushu Station (中州驛  / ちゅうしゅうえき) → Zhongzhou Station (中洲車站)

  2. Shinshigai Station (新市街驛 / しんしがいえき) → Shinshi Station (新市驛 / しんしえき) → Xinshi Station (新市車站)

  3. Wanri Station (灣裡驛/わんりえき) → Zenka Station (善化 / ぜんかえき) → Shanhua Station (善化車站)

  4. Hanshiten Station (番仔田停車場) → Hanshiten Station (番子田驛 / はんしてんえき) → Longtian Station (隆田車站)

  5. Shin’eisho Station (新營庄驛 / しんえいしょうえき) → Shin’ei Station (新營驛 / しんえいしょうえき) → Xinying Station (新營車站)

  6. Koheki’ryo Station (後壁藔停車場 / こうへき りょうえき) → Koheki Station (後壁驛 / こうへきえき) → Houbi Station (後壁車站)

  7. Suikuttao Station (水堀頭驛 / すいほりとうえき) → Suijo Station (水上驛 / すいじょうえき) → Shuishang Station (水上車站)

  8. Dabyo Station (打猫驛/だびょうえき) → Tamio Station (民雄驛 / たみおえき) → Minxiong Station (民雄車站)

  9. Taihorin Station (大莆林驛 / たいほりんえき) → Tairin Station (大林驛 / たいりんえき) → Dalin Station (大林車站)

  10. Tarimu Station (他里霧驛 / たりむりんえき) → Toroku Station (斗六驛/とろくえき) → Douliu Station (斗六車站)

  11. Nihachisui Station (二八水驛 / にはちすいえき) → Nisui Station (二水驛) → Ershui Station (二水車站 / にすいえき)

On the top right, we have the following eleven name changes in the north:

  1. Komota Station (紅毛田驛 / こうもうたえき) → Komo Station (紅毛驛 / こうもうえき) → (1934) Chikuhoku Station (竹北驛/ちくほくえき) - Chubei Station (竹北車站)

  2. Taikoko Station (大湖口驛 / たいここうえき) →  Kokō Station (湖口驛 / ここうえき) → Hukou Station (湖口車站)

  3. Yōbair Station (楊梅壢驛 / ようばいれき) → Yobai Station (楊梅驛 / ようばいえき) → Yangmei Station (楊梅車站)

  4. Heianchin Station (平安鎮驛 / へいあんちんえき) → Heichin Station (平鎮驛 / へいちんえき) → Puxin Station (埔心車站)

  5. Kanshikyaku Station (崁仔脚驛 / かんしきゃくえき) → Kanshikyaku Station (崁子脚驛 / かんしきゃくえき) → Neili Station (內壢車站)

  6. Okaishi Station (鶯歌石驛 / おうかいしえき) → Oka Station (鶯歌驛 / おうかえき) → Yingge Station (鶯歌車站)

  7. Yamakogashi Station (山仔脚驛 / やまご あしえき) → Yamakogashi Station (山子腳驛 / やまご あしえき) → Shanjia Station (山佳車站)

  8. Bankyo Station (枋橋驛 / ばんきょうえき) → Itahashi Station (板橋驛 / いたはしえき) → Banqiao Station (板橋車站)

  9. Báng-kah Station (艋舺驛 / まんかえき) → Manka Station (萬華驛 / まんかえき) → Wanhua Station (萬華車站)

  10. Suzuko Station (錫口驛 / すずこうえき) → Matsuyama Station (松山驛 / まつやまえき) → Songshan Station (松山車站)

  11. Suihenkyaku Station (水返脚驛 / すいへんきゃくえき)Shiodome Station (汐止驛 / しおどめえき) → Xizhi Station (汐止車站)

On the bottom left, we have the following eleven name changes on the east coast and in the south of Taiwan.

  1. Suo Station (蘇澚驛 / そおうえき) → Suo Station (蘇澳驛 / そおうえき) → Su’ao Station (蘇澳車站)

  2. Togazan Station (冬瓜山驛 / とうがざんえき) → Tozan Station (冬山驛 / とうざんえき) → Dongshan Station (東山車站)

  3. Nonnongai Station (暖暖街驛 / だんだんがいえき) → Nonnon Station (暖暖驛 / だんだんえき) → Nuannuan Station (暖暖車站)

  4. Tonbutsu Station (頓物驛 /とんぶつえき) → Takeda Station (竹田驛 / たけだえき) → Zhutian Station (竹田車站)

  5. Ako Station (阿緱驛 / あこうえき) → Heito Station (屏東驛 / へいとうえき) → Pingtung Station (屏東車站)

  6. Takao Station (打狗驛 / たかおえき) → Takao Station (高雄驛 / たかおえき) → Kaohsiung Station (高雄車站)

  7. Nanshiko Station (楠仔坑驛 / なんしこうえき) → Nanshi Station (楠摔驛 / なんしえき) → Nanzi Station (楠梓車站)

  8. Kyokoto Station (橋仔頭驛 / きょうことうえき) → Kyokoto Station (橋子頭驛 / きょうことうえき) → Qiaotou Station (橋頭車站)

  9. Akotentei Station (阿公店驛 / あこうてんていえき) → Okayama Station (岡山驛 / をかやまえき) → Gangshan Station (岡山車站)

  10. Hanrochiku station (半路竹驛 / はんろちくえき) → Rochiku Station (路竹驛 / ろちくえき) → Luzhu Station (路竹車站)

  11. Daikogai Station (大湖街驛 / だいこがいえき) → Daiko Station (大湖驛 / だいこえき) → Dahu Station (大湖車站)

Finally, on the bottom right, we have the following eleven name changes in central Taiwan:

  1. Tanakaou Station (田中央驛 / でんちゅうおうえき) → Tanaka Station (田中驛 / でんちゅうえき) → Tianzhong Station (田中車站)

  2. Katokyaku Station (茄蔘腳驛 / かとうきゃえき) → Kadan Station (花壇驛 / かだんえき) → Huatan Station (花壇車站)

  3. Daito Station (大肚驛 / だいとえき) → Oda Station (王田驛 / おうたえき) → Chenggong Station (成功車站)

  4. Tanshiken Station (潭仔乾驛 / たんしけん) → Tanshi Station (潭子驛 / たんしえき) → Tanzi Station (潭子車站)

  5. Koroton Station (葫產激驛 / ころとんえき) → Toyohara Station (豐原驛 / とよはらえき) → Fengyuan Station (豐原車站)

  6. Korisou Station (后里庄驛 / こうりそうえき) → Kori Station (后里驛 / こうりえき) → Houli Station (后里車站)

  7. Taiankei Station (大安溪驛 /だいあんけいえき) → Tai’an Station (大安驛 / たいあんえき) → Tai’an Station (泰安車站)

  8. Sansagawa Station (三叉河驛 / さんさがわえき) → Sansa Station (三叉驛 / さんさえき) → Sanyi Station (三義車站)

  9. Dorawan Station (銅鑼灣驛 / どうらわんえき) → Dora Station (銅鑼驛 / どうらえき) → Tongluo Station (銅鑼車站)

  10. Koryu Station (後壠 /こうりゅうえき) → Koryu Station (後龍驛 / こうりゅうえき) → Houlong Station (後龍車站)

  11. Chuko Station (中港驛 /ちゅうこうえき) → Chikunan Station (竹南驛 / ちくなんえき) → Zhunan Station (竹南車站)

Now that we’ve got all of that out of the way, it’s time to talk a little about the photo, and some rather obvious aspects of it that I probably should have noticed much earlier than I did.

The old adage ‘a picture tells a thousand words’ proves quite important with regard to the chart. You could argue that it’s not exactly a ‘picture,’ nor are there a thousand words on it, but after studying it for a while, I started to notice things that wouldn’t have been there if it were an original announcement from 1922. One of the first things that I should have noticed was that on the very top of the chart, under the two crests, the words “Showa Era” (昭和時代) and “Taisho Era” (大正時代).

The problem with this was that if the chart was released in 1922, it would be a bit strange to see the acknowledgement of the Showa Era there, given that it started on December 25, 1926, and lasted until the death of Emperor Showa on January 7th, 1989. Those ‘era’s are repeated once again at the top of the chart in smaller-case font with the addition of the Meiji Era (明治時代), which preceded the Taisho era. Essentially, the chart was more or less just listing the three emperors who oversaw control of Taiwan during the Japanese-era.

Historic railway stations in Taiwan, recreated by Taiwan Restoration.

What I should have noticed from the outset were the words “Taiwan Restoration” (台湾維新) - You’ll have to forgive me if what I say here seems like an advertisement, but a few years back I purchased a beautifully designed poster-like print that featured the logos that represented Taiwan’s various cities during the Japanese-era. Design-wise, I’m a big fan of them, especially compared to the ghastly logos that are used these days.

I purchased the print at a local bookstore, but it was produced by the very same ‘Taiwan Restoration’ person (or group) mentioned above. While you can still find quite a few of their designs for sale online, they haven’t really been very active updating their social media page in the past few years, so I can’t really tell you if it’s all being designed by a single person or a group of people. What I can tell you is that they’re (probably) not affiliated with the ‘Taiwan Renewal Party’, which shares the same Chinese name.

Link: Taiwan Restoration (Facebook) | Ruten Store: 台湾維新 | GJ Taiwan Store

Taking a look at the Facebook page, it strikes me that the products that they’re selling are all designed quite well, making use of some of the iconography that was prevalent during the Japanese-era. Obviously, as I mentioned earlier, I’m a fan of the logos that were created to signify Taiwan, and its major towns and cities. That being said, they’ve designed quite a few things that celebrate Taiwan’s railroad, which I really appreciate.

Now that I’ve done some looking into their products, I might actually try to purchase some more, if they’re still available. Unfortunately, it seems like quite a few of their products are sold out, have been for some time, and I’m not particularly sure if they’ll ever be restocked.

Nevertheless, before I leave you, with regard to all of the name changes that took place in Taiwan during the Japanese-era, the diagram above only features a small percentage of the location names that were changed. This is because it is only a representation of the railway stations that changed their names to reflect the changes in their community. The evolution of how these names of places around the country have changed over the centuries is a subject that is not covered very well in the English language, but it is a fascinating topic that paints a much broader story of how this beautiful island has changed as it has developed over the past few centuries.

References

  1. 台灣舊地名

  2. 臺灣鐵道旅行案內 (國家文化記憶庫)

  3. Taiwan Restoration Facebook (台湾維新)

  4. 臺灣日治時期行政區劃 (Wiki)

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)