Photo Post

Former Residence of Hsin Chih-Ping (辛志平校長故居)

Most foreign visitors to Taiwan seem to agree that Taipei and Tainan are the best places to visit while in the country - Taipei for its modern vibes and Tainan for all of its history and its amazing cuisine - so with a visit to both of these cities, you can learn all you need to know about both the nation’s past and its future.

Personally, I don’t really feel like you need to travel from one end of the country to the other to experience either of these, especially since a short trip to Hsinchu can satisfy both in a single trip.

With Hsinchu, we’re blessed with an ever-growing city on the cutting edge of technology that just so happens to also be rich in Taiwanese history, traditional culture and a local cuisine of its own.

I fell in love with Hsinchu on my first visit and as the city continues to develop, it’s very likely that I’ll continue to sing its praises as there is always something new and exciting to do while in town.

If you haven’t had the opportunity to spend any time in the city, I highly recommend taking some time to explore all that it has to offer, since it’s only a short train ride from the capital, and especially since there are so many hip restaurants, coffeeshops, museums and historic locations to check out.

Over the next few months, I’ll have a number of new Hsinchu-related articles as the city has invested a considerable amount of funds into the preservation of its cultural heritage, spanning the two hundred years of its development into one of Taiwan’s most important cities.

Today, I’ll be introducing one of the city’s historic Japanese-era destinations, conveniently located within the downtown core of the city, and yet another tourist destination within walking distance of the equally historic railway station. As an official residence for a Japanese-era civil servant, the building is a bit more posh than some of the other civil servant dorms I’ve written about in the past, but given Hsinchu’s strategic importance to the Japanese, the beauty of this building shouldn’t come off as a big surprise.

For day-trippers to the city, this is yet another location within the downtown core that can help you get a better feel of the history of this important city as well as one of its most prominent citizens over the past half century.

Shinchiku High School Principal’s Residence

Writing about the ‘residences' provided for civil servants during the Japanese-era is a topic that I’ve been researching for quite a while, with dozens of articles on the topic already published. One of the most obvious takeaways is that if you were a professionally trained civil servant immigrating to Taiwan, one of the benefits was that housing would be provided - in some cases shared dormitories - or for higher ranking officials, a residence for their entire family.

These civil-servant dormitories, or residences were provided for government officials of all levels ranging from the police, educators, engineers, railway workers, etc. Today, many of the Japanese-era residences that remain across the country were once property of the colonial government, and were provided on a provisional basis to those working to help develop the island.

That being said, not every residence provided by the government would have been a comfortable living experience - Many of the laborers in the timber or sugar industries were provided with shared dwellings, much like a university dorm-like environment. Similarly many of the lower-ranking teachers who came to Taiwan were placed in shared residences where a number of co-workers would live in the same space.

Higher ranking officials, such as school principals on the other hand were provided with far more elaborate homes for their entire family. These larger buildings offered a much more comfortable living experience than the average worker would have enjoyed and were luxurious enough that they likely would have enticed their residents to stay longer.

Link: Qidong Street Dorms (齊東街日式宿舍)

The residence provided for the principal of the Prefectural Shinchiku High School (新竹州立新竹中學校) in Hsinchu is by far one of the best examples I have encountered, when it comes to the high standard of living that school principals were provided with. The large home came fully equipped on prime real estate in the downtown core of the city, and even featured a large yard for the family to enjoy.

Interestingly, when it comes to the residences provided for school staff, they were almost always constructed next to the school for convenience purposes. This principal’s dorm however is located on the opposite side of the train tracks from the school, which would have made the daily commute a long one.

To understand why this is the case, we first have to take a look at the school’s history.

Established in 1922 (大正11年), the Prefectural Shinchiku High School was originally located in the downtown core of Hsinchu, close to the railway station. The school was initially split up and shared space within the Shinchiku First Public School (新竹第一公學校), in addition to a newly constructed building just opposite where the principal’s residence is located today. However, with plans to expand and restructure the educational infrastructure in the prefecture, the location was only a temporary one as a massive campus was at the same time undergoing construction at the base of Eighteen Peaks Mountain (十八尖山).

Completed in 1925 (大正14年), the Prefectural Shinchiku High School changed the landscape of public education in Shinchiku Prefecture, providing space for three classes per grade with seats for one hundred Japanese nationals and fifty Taiwanese students (even three decades into the colonial era, preferential treatment was still afforded to Japanese nationals), with a total student population of around five hundred pupils per year. For much of its history, the prestigious high school, known today as National Hsinchu Senior High School (國立新竹高級中學) was primarily a male-only school, which is an important thing to keep in mind regarding the educational restructuring plan mentioned above.

When the boys high school moved in 1926, the Shinchiku First Public School was converted into a public elementary school, while the downtown campus vacated by the boys high school became the Shinchiku Prefectural Girls' High School (新竹州立新竹高等女學校), offering primary and upper education for the children of the prefecture.

Note: Just for clarity sake:

Shinchiku First Public School (新竹第一公學校) is currently “Hsinchu Elementary School” (新竹國民小學) and dates back to 1898.

Prefectural Shinchiku Boys High School (新竹州立新竹中學校) is currently “National Hsinchu Senior High School” (國立新竹高級中學) and dates back to 1922.

Shinchiku Prefectural Girls' High School (新竹州立新竹高等女學校) is currently “National Hsinchu Girls' Senior High School” (國立新竹女子高級中學) and dates back to 1925.

All of that said, I couldn’t find any definitive answer as to why the principals residence didn’t move to the other side of the tracks along with the school - A bit frustrated, I decided to make another trip to Hsinchu to ask one of the knowledgeable Cultural Bureau employees working inside. Suffice to say, the residence as we know it today was once part of a large community of teachers dormitories that encapsulated an entire city block within the downtown core of the city. Unfortunately, the only one that remains is the principals residence as the others have long since been torn down and replaced with high-rise apartment buildings.

As it was expertly explained to me, the community of houses were constructed in the early 1920s, along with the campus nearby. Having an already established community of houses for many of the school’s teachers and their families, most were reluctant to move. However, it’s important to note that the girl’s school next door also required similar residences for its staff, so another large group of dorms were constructed between the campus and the Hsinchu Moat. Similarly, as the boys high school grew, a number of additional dorms were constructed next to the school to accommodate the growing number of staff.

After listening to his explanation, I asked what I figured was the obvious question: “So, they walked to school every day? Wasn’t it troublesome to cross the tracks on a daily basis?” to which the expert responded: “Hsinchu was one of the busiest cities in Taiwan and the colonial government made sure that tunnels were constructed under the tracks to connect both sides of the city, just like the ones we are using today. There was essentially a traffic and pedestrian tunnel across the street from the dorms for the staff to make their way to work.

The first principal of the Prefectural Shinchiku Boys High School was an accomplished and interesting figure named Oki Shunkuro (大木俊九郎 / おおき しゅんくろう) from Saga Prefecture (佐賀県) on southern Japan’s Kyushu Island. Arriving in Taiwan in 1921 (大正10年), Oki initially took a position as head teacher at Taichung’s Business School (臺中商業學校) before being promoted to principal of the newly established high school, where he would spend the next decade of his life.

Note: Taichung Business School (臺中商業學校) is currently the Taichung University of Science and Technology (國立臺中科技大學)

Despite being referred to today as the ‘Former Residence of Hsin Chih-Ping,” I’d argue that both of these figures were the most significant in the history of the school, hailing from different eras of Taiwan’s history. In both cases, a number of principals followed, but (not to dismiss the achievements of others) few have had as tremendous of an effect on the school as these two.

Principal Oki oversaw the establishment of the school, its migration to a new campus, the construction of new buildings on the campus, and its growth between 1922 and 1932. Known as a strict administrator, Oki ran a military-like outfit, but spent time personally training students in the art of Kendo (劍道) as well as personally maintaining the school’s gardens and floral arrangements.

Interestingly, Oki’s career in Taiwan should have lasted much longer, but his son, a doctor of note in Taipei found himself involved in an extramarital affair with a nurse at his hospital, something which Oki considered tantamount to his failure as a parent and educator. This forced him to pack up and return to Japan in disgrace - something I’m sure most people these days would consider a bit of an overreaction.

In the years after Oki left Taiwan, a number of administrators followed (five to be exact), but each of them only lasted a year or two at the most. Then, when the colonial era came to an end in 1945 and the Japanese left Taiwan, the school was renamed “National Hsinchu Senior High School” and Hsin Chih-Ping became principal, a position he’d hold for the next three decades.

Principal’s Residence Tenants (1922 - 1985)

Oki Shunkuro (大木俊九郎) - 1922 (大正11年) - 1931 (昭和6年)

Ogita Shinosamu (荻板進治) - 1932 (昭和7年) - 1936 (昭和11年)

Shiba Toshio (志波俊夫) - 1937 (昭和12年) - 1941 (昭和16年)

Matsui Minoru (松井實) - 1942 (昭和17年)

Sanya Shusaku (三屋秋策) - 1943 (昭和18年) - 1944 (昭和19年)

Hsin Chih-Ping (辛志平) - 1945 (民國34年) - 1985 (民國74年)

Living there well after his retirement, the house was left abandoned after Hsin passed away in 1985 (民國74年) and when plans were made to have it torn down along with all of the other aging and abandoned teachers dormitories and converted into a parking lot. Fortunately, local groups made a fuss and campaigned to have it preserved by the local government.

In 2006 (民國95年), a restoration project on the house started and was completed a year later with the fully restored residence opened to the public the next year, which is one of the reasons it appears different from most of the other Japanese-era residences that have been restored in recent years as the wood has had time to age, so it’s not as bright and shiny as the others, which is great.

Even though the school dates back to 1922, it is unclear as to when the residence was constructed - It is theorized by local historians that it was constructed at the same time as the school, so when the first campus was completed, the house was already ready to be occupied. This theory is supported by the fact that it’s first tenant, Principal Oki, was teaching elsewhere before accepting the position in Hsinchu, meaning that accommodations would have been prepared prior to his arrival.

Another clue that dates the building to 1922 is that it was constructed shortly after the Governor General’s Office enacted a law (台灣總督府官舍建築標準) regarding official building standards in Taiwan. The new standards specified the regulations regarding the size of buildings that were provided for civil servants of various ranks. As a level three official, the principal’s residence would have been considered within the upper echelons of the system, and the size and quality of the accommodations provided were far more spacious and elegant than a typical dorm. The final clue is the architectural design of the building is more or less the same as several other ‘level three residences’ constructed for the administrators of other schools around the island after the new regulations were published.

Suffice to say, if historians are correct and the building was constructed alongside the school, it is marking its centennial this year, which is a significant event.

Blueprints of the exterior of the building.

Even though the exact date of construction is unclear, we are blessed with very detailed blueprints of the building’s architectural design, which provide specific details of the layout of the house from the time it was constructed in addition to the changes that it underwent over the decades when it was slightly modified (due to the cultural differences with regard to sleeping and living arrangements). Approximately 159.87m2 (48坪), the building was constructed with the ubiquitous irimoya-zukuri (入母屋造) style of architectural design using a combination of Taiwanese Hinoki (臺灣檜木) and Taiwanese Cedar (臺灣杉木).

The irimoya-style, better known as the “East Asian Hip and Gable roof” (歇山), is one of the most common forms of traditional Japanese architectural design, and is used on anything from Buddhist temples and Shinto Shrines to residences like this one, but tends to vary in the level of decorative elements added to the roof. Plainly speaking, it’s a practical style of design given that the ‘hipped’ section provides excellent stability to the base of the building, while the ‘gable’ section ensures the stability of the roof, with all of its heavy roof tiles. This is accomplished through a genius network of trusses (屋架) located within the ceiling that helps to distribute the weight and support the four-sided sloped hip roof (四坡頂).

To start describing the interior, it’s important to note that traditional Japanese residences follow a basic design rule in that each of them consists of the following three ‘spaces’ - a living space (起居空間), a service space (服務空間), and a passage space (通行空間). 

The “living space” is considerably different than what we’re used to in western standards as what we might consider a “living room” is actually a brilliant multi-functional space where the family can receive guests, hang out, have their meals, drink tea and sleep. This space is typically the most spacious part of the house and features large closet-like compartments with sliding doors in the walls where blankets, decorations and other necessities are stored during the day. 

The “service space” on the other hand could include a number of rooms such as the kitchen, bathroom, washroom, maids room, etc. Finally, the “passage space” generally refers to the the front and back entrances to the house as well as the corridors within, located between the living space and the service space.

As mentioned above, the layout of the residence was altered from its original condition after Hsin Chih-Ping started living there - However, the way it has been restored today has brought it back to its original architectural layout. I’ll provide floor plans below where you can see the changes, but I’m only going to describe the layout as it originally appeared, which is pretty much what you’ll experience today.

The front entrance, or the foyer to the residence is known as a ‘genkan’ (玄關 / げんかん) and features compartments for shoes, umbrellas, etc. The genkan is almost always the only ‘ground level’ section of the house as the rest is elevated on pedestals.

When you walk up the stairs you’ll find a reception room (應接室 / おうせつしつ) to the right, which is culturally-speaking a significant space as it is where family members would receive guests who weren’t extended family, or close friends. It is separate from the main family area and helps to maintain privacy.

One of the interesting architectural differences between homes constructed in Japan and Taiwan at the time were that these guest rooms always faced a specific direction that would allow for the best morning and afternoon light. The ninety degree L-shaped windows in the room were constructed specifically to take advantage of the light, so these ‘guest rooms’ were often used as a comfortable space for tea or coffee, like a second living room.

To the left of the foyer you’ll find a tea room (茶之間 / ちゃのま), which essentially would have served as a dining room space, with a large table for the family to enjoy meals. Next to the tea room was a reading room (書齋 / しょさい), which could have also served as a work space.

Next to the dining room you’d find a maids room (女中室/じょちゅうしつ), which was a living space afforded to the family’s maid. Normally these spaces aren’t very large, but in this house it is almost half the size of the family’s personal living space. It also has its own door to the outside, so the maid could easily come and go without disturbing the family.

Connected directly to the maids room on the western side of the building is an impressively large kitchen (台所 / だいどころ) - This space in particular is one of the areas where you’ll currently find most of the ‘modern’ alterations to the building as it was changed to fit the needs of the family the lived in the house for the three decades after the war.

Completing the ‘service space’ section of the house, next to the kitchen you’ll find a bathroom (風呂 / ふろ) for taking baths and next to that (along the north-western end of the house) you’ll find a detached lavatory (便所 / べんじょ). In old houses like these it wasn’t common to have a full bathroom as we know it today, so these spaces were often separated for convenience.

Regarding the ‘passage space’ mentioned above, the corridors in the house basically stretch around the house in a U-shape that connect the reception room, the exterior of the living space to the kitchen. The corridors on the northern and eastern sides of the building are absolutely beautiful as they feature large paneled windows that would have allowed the family to enjoy a view of the exterior of the building.

One of the most significant design features (as far as I’m concerned at least) for this space is the beautiful ‘engawa’ (緣側/えんがわ) sliding door verandas on the northern side that allow for natural air to enter the buildings, while also offering direct access to the backyard.

The significant thing about the engawa is that you can essentially think of it in three different sections. The top part features windows that you could tilt open, while the sliding doors allowed the panels to slide back and forth. Finally, the lower section features a slide-able wooden panel section that allows fresh air to come into the building. Each of these three sections is part of a genius way to allow a varying amount of fresh air or wind in the building, based on personal preference - keeping in mind that this house was constructed long before air conditioning was invented.

Finally, the ‘living space’ consists of two sections, but is essentially one large open space with sliding panels on several sides for privacy. I’ve seen photos of the space when it still had its sliding panels installed and it was quite pretty, but they’ve since removed them to allow for a much larger and open space.

Suffice to say, it’s not likely that you’ll see the panels these days.

The first of the two sections is known as the living space (座敷 / ざしき), and is essentially a living room where the family could spend time together. Within this space you’d find an alcove referred to as tokonoma (床の間/とこのま) and a chigaidana (違棚 / ちがいだな), which are both spaces reserved for decorative elements of the living space. Within these spaces you’d likely find calligraphy, floral arrangements or simple artistic elements.

The second part of the living space is the area reserved for the family’s sleeping space (居間 / いま), which was essentially just an open space, save for another alcove known as an ‘oshiire’ (押入 / おしいれ), which is where the bedding would have been stored during the day. If you’re a fan of Japanese anime, this is the area of the house where Doraemon famously sleeps and is essentially just a closet with shelves. That space today is blocked by an old bureau where you’ll find photos of the various former tenants of the building over the past century.

In terms of its interior design, the house is much larger than most of the official dormitories that you can visit across Taiwan today. Still, no matter if these old houses are large or small, the interior design is extremely practical and functional with each space reserved for very specific purposes. While some of it may seem far too formal for most westerners, its a traditional architectural design from a hundred years ago when tradition started to meet modernity in a way that we can see how homes have transitioned into what we’re used to today. Some of the spaces within may seem needlessly spacious, especially since you have a large home with only one bedroom, but everything has a purpose and it’s all meant to exist in harmony.

Note the trees and plants surrounding the house

One of the elements that is (for most part) missing today, and rarely mentioned in articles about the place is the garden that surrounds the house. These days, most of the what once existed there has already been lost, but the yard was once impressively home to several lychee trees (荔枝樹), mango trees (芒果樹), longan trees (龍眼樹), banyan trees (榕樹) and pine trees (羅漢松) surrounding the house. Additionally there was a lotus flower pond (蓮花池), and scaffolding for sponge cucumbers (絲瓜棚架) and grapes (葡萄棚架) as well as a chicken coop and a well (where the parking lot exists today.

Some of the trees still exist on the property today, and it’s safe to assume that they were all planted by the original tenant, Principal Oki, who was a passionate gardener. Suffice to say, the trees you’ll find on the property are likewise nearing one hundred years, like the house!

Former Residence of Hsin Chih-Ping (辛志平校長故居)

At this point, it’s probably a good idea to take a minute or two of your time to talk about Principal Hsin Chih-Ping. Born in China shortly after the birth of the Republic of China, Hsin came to Taiwan in his early 30s along with almost two million refugees due to the communist take over over the country, and the retreat of the Chinese Nationalists during the civil war.

Taking the position of principal of the prestigious high school, Hsin’s leadership over a three decade period was one where its liberal approach to education produced a long list of successful business leaders, politicians, artists and even a Nobel laureate. Today, Hsinchu Senior High is one of the nation’s most highly regarded educational institutions, and as I mentioned earlier, is in large part due to the influence of Principal Hsin.

A passionate educator and athlete, Hsin is fondly remembered for his promotion of sports, including basketball and swimming as well as the arts and musical education and most of the photos you’ll see of the man in the house today are photos of him exercising with his students.

Essentially, Hsin took a modern “holistic approach to education emphasizing moral, physical, social and aesthetic education in addition to intellectual education” and his legacy at the school is one that cannot be understated as his influence can be found almost everywhere you go on campus.

Unfortunately there is very little about his life printed in English - I also don’t want to go into too much detail here - but I highly recommend checking out the article linked below, which I just quoted above, as it provides photos and a pretty good idea of how significant the man was.

Link: Opening the Doors to Liberal Education in Hsinchu—The Former Residence of Hsin Chih-ping (Taiwan Panorama)

Designated as a Protected Hsinchu Municipal Historic Property in 2002 (民國91年), the former principal’s residence was preserved thanks to the effort of local civic groups and alumni of the school, who sought to preserve the memory of their famed principal. The house is currently under the stewardship of the Hsinchu Cultural Bureau and is open to the public as a tourist destination to both enjoy the architectural beauty of the home as well as to learn about Hsin Chih-ping’s legacy.

Having lived in the residence for almost all of his professional career, the house offers an intimate look at the life of one of the city’s most well-known and well-loved figures through a number of exhibitions that offer a fitting tribute to his life.

While visitors could spend an hour or two in the house enjoying the exhibitions about Hsin’s life, if it weren’t for a bit of private enterprise cooperation, it would be the kind of tourist attraction where the government would constantly be in the red, given that it doesn’t create much revenue.

So, in order to recoup some of the operating fees, you’ll find a couple of extra attractions.

This kind of situation has become quite normal in recent years as a mixture of public and private cooperation has become formulaic for ensuring that buildings like this can continue to be restored across the country.

If you’re interested in the topic, I recommend you check out my article where I outline the government’s efforts to preserve historic buildings, while taking advantage of private sector partnerships to ensure sustainability.

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

Located to the right of the main entrance to the residence you’ll find a coffee shop named “VWII” which is owned by award-winning barista Chad Wang, offering interior and exterior seating. The coffee shop is an excellent place not only to enjoy some amazing coffee, but also just to sit and enjoy the view of the residence and the nature that surrounds it.

Hours: Open daily from 11:00 - 7:00.

Link: VWI by CHADWANG | VWI by CHADWANG (Facebook)

Next, directly to the rear of the residence you’ll find an interesting Taiwanese-style restaurant named TAIVII, which is the romanized version of “台味” or “Taiwanese flavors.

The concept restaurant offers a modern fine-dining take on a lot of local dishes, and although it looks like it can be quite expensive, the prices are pretty reasonable. Open from Tuesday to Sunday for lunch service (11:00-4:00) and dinner service (6:00-10:00), its a nice dining experience, especially after dark when the mansion is closed and you have the grounds to yourself.

While I’ve yet to personally have dinner at the restaurant, the reviews on Facebook and Google are glowing and the food photos look great. Hsinchu is full of amazing dining options though, so its difficult to choose where to eat! It’s recommended though that if you’re planning on dining at the restaurant that you make a reservation before going to ensure that you get a seat.

Link: TAIVII 餐酒館

Getting There

 

Address: #32 Dongmen Street, Hsinchu City (新竹市東門街32號)

GPS: 24.804380, 120.973920

Conveniently located within the heart of downtown Hsinchu City, the Former Residence of Hsin Chih-Ping is a short walk from both Hsinchu Train Station (新竹車站) and the Hsinchu Bus Terminal (新竹轉運站) making checking it out quite simple.

Not only is a it a short walk from the train station, there is also a YouBike Station next to the residence, so if you’re riding around town on one of the shared bicycles, you can easily park it and go check out the historic culture park and then hop back on and ride elsewhere.

From the train station, you’ll simply turn right and walk down Zhonghua Road (中華路) until you reach the large intersection where the road meets with Dongmen Street (東門街), and you’ll find the residence on the left. Google Maps estimates that it is about a six minute walk to the residence, but I’d say it’s even less than that, unless you get stuck behind a really long red light waiting to cross the road.

If you’re driving a car or a scooter, I recommend inputting the address or the GPS coordinates provided above to help map out your route to the park. If you’re driving a scooter, you should be able to easily find some free roadside parking spots nearby. If on the other hand you’re in the city and you’ve got a car with you, it’s going to be a little more difficult to find a space. If you’re lucky, you might be able to find a spot in the parking lot to the rear of the building, but given its proximity to the train station, spots there are hard to come by. Your best option would be to go to the Dong-da Bridge Parking Lot (東大路橋下中華停車場) nearby where you’re more likely to find a space and from there it’s a short walk to the park.

Keep in mind though that on weekends and during the holiday, it can be difficult to find a spot.

Dong-da Bridge Parking Lot (東大橋下中華停車場)

Address: 新竹市中華路二段270號之1號

While in the area there is quite a bit to see and do. I highly recommend any visitor to Hsinchu check out the City God Temple, Dongmen Market (東門市場), Hsinchu Park (新竹公園) where you’ll find the Hsinchu Zoo (新竹動物園) as well as the Confucius Temple (新竹孔廟) and the Lakeside Ryotei (湖畔料亭) and a number of other attractions in the area.

There’s always a lot to do in the windy city, so you’ll never be bored!

If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ll know I’m a big fan of these historic Japanese-era buildings. You’re also likely aware that I’m not always a big fan of the restoration work that has been done on them, as well as the arbitrary usage of the interior space once they’ve been restored. This one has been restored for a few years now, so it’s not as shiny and new as some of its contemporaries, but the architecture of the building is absolutely beautiful and the exhibition spaces inside are modest enough that they don’t get in the way. If you find yourself in the Hsinchu area, I highly recommend a stop by to check out this historic residence and learn a bit about its former owner.

References

  1. 辛志平校長故居 (新竹市觀光旅遊網)

  2. 辛志平校長故居 (Wiki)

  3. 辛志平校長故居 | The Residence of Hsin Chih-Ping (新竹市文化局)

  4. 辛志平校長故居 (新竹市文化資產)

  5. 辛志平校長故居 (國家文化資產網)

  6. 辛志平校長故居 - 開啟新竹自由教育之風 (台灣光華雜誌)

  7. 辛志平校長故居整體再利用規劃 (王惠君, 臺灣記憶)

  8. The Former Residence of Hsin Chih-ping (台灣外交部 / 臺灣記憶)

  9. The Former Residence of Principal Hsin Chih-Ping (Orphaned Nation)

  10. 辛志平 (Wiki)

  11. 大木俊九郎 (Wiki)

  12. 國立新竹高級中學 | National Hsinchu Senior High School (Wiki)

  13. 州立新竹中學校其二 (新竹市地方寶藏資料庫)

  14. 州立新竹中學校其一 (新竹市地方寶藏資料庫)

  15. 辛志平校長故居調查研究暨修復計劃總結成果報告書 (王惠君, 郭英釗)

  16. 新竹州 | Shinchiku Prefecture (Wiki)


Abandoned Resort (廢棄的俱樂部)

Shortly after my arrival in Taiwan, I was eager to maintain the same level of fitness that I was able to enjoy during my university days. Finding a health club to work out at was important, but at that time, gyms in Taiwan weren’t as popular then as they are now, and with so few options, I decided to go with the one that seemed to have the best reputation.

After asking around, one of my new friends and I marched into the local gym and negotiated a year-long membership. It was at this time that we discovered that negotiating a gym membership in Taiwan was a bit like purchasing a used car, and it was likely that we were taken for a bit of a ride by an eager salesperson. The facilities however were top notch and the membership fee seemed comparable to what we were used to back home, so we bit the bullet and agreed to the terms.

For a couple of months after, we enjoyed the gym on an almost daily basis, heading over early in the morning for a workout and then making our way to a local breakfast restaurant to enjoy our new love, Taiwanese egg pancakes..

Randomly, one day we showed up to the gym and the doors were barred shut with a group of regulars standing outside scratching their heads wondering what was going on.

Over the next few days, the local media reported steadily on what had happened as it became a sensational national scandal, affecting tens of thousands of members across the various branches around the country.

Needless to say, a number of factors came together to shine a light on a disastrous business operation that resulting in all of us being defrauded of our membership fees thanks to one of the major shareholders more or less escaping to China with bags of stolen cash.

Having been a member for only a few months, my friend and I lost about 75% of the money we paid for our memberships, but the news reported that the company had continued searching for new members up until the doors were barred shut, so in retrospect our losses might not have been all that bad.

Nevertheless, it was a huge scandal, and I learned a valuable lesson because of it.

That being said, this wasn’t the first national ‘health club’ scandal of its kind, and today I’m going to be sharing photos from a luxurious club, which for quite a while was frequented by the rich and famous of the country.

Abandoned now for two decades, this giant resort and health club collected massive membership fees from its members, and its sudden closure, much like the health club where I lost money, continues to reverberate around the country today, with almost two thousand of its former employees and members financially shortchanged due to some pretty shady business operations.

Admittedly, it has been a while since I’ve posted an Urban Exploration-related article, so let me take a minute to offer some important reminders about this article: First, I won’t be offering the specific travel information that I usually provide for the places I write about; If you’re reading this and looking at the photos thinking its a place you’d like to check out, please don’t contact me to ask where it is.

I’ll leave enough clues for you to figure that out on your own.

Even though I’ll provide some clues, I will be purposely vague with the information provided about the backstory of this massive ruin, but if you do find yourself invested enough in figuring out where it is, I’m sure you won’t have too much trouble.

Ultimately, this post will more or less just let the photos do the talking.

Abandoned Resort (廢棄的俱樂部)

Most of the time, when I explore abandoned buildings, I don’t post very much about them.

You won’t often see me sharing photos on any of my social media accounts, and it’s even more rare that I write articles about them, unless of course they have some important historic value.

Few of the places I’ve explore though have ever come close to the size of this one.

Exploring this place took the better part of an afternoon and the reason I’ve decided to write about it due to its ostentatious architectural design.

Abandoned for two decades, this 13,000㎡ (4000坪) resort featured a number of amenities including a health club, swimming pool, tennis courts, basketball courts, restaurants, bars, sauna, massage room, banquet space, etc.

With a focus on luxury, lifetime membership fees were reportedly priced at $500,000NT per family ($17,000 USD), with an additional $5000NT ($160USD) monthly service fee.

Basically a pricing scheme that would have weeded out the riffraff like myself.

Despite the high cost for membership, the resort reportedly boasted 1500 members prior to going out of business. It’s unclear however whether or not the number of ‘members’ included the family of paying members. Nevertheless, with such a high cost for participation, one might assume that there must have been some epic stupidity involved in a place like this going out of business.

In addition to the resort facilities, space was also reserved for outside events in its large fully-equipped banquet hall, that would have provided a high-class experience for weddings or corporate banquets with cuisine that appeared to specialize in the Cantonese style of dining. Featuring a banquet hall for large events and several smaller rooms to the side, the banquet space of the resort in addition to the adjacent restaurants made up for a large section of the actual space in the main building.

Essentially split into three sections, the main building features five above ground floors with two sub-ground floors. As mentioned above, much of the space is reserved as banquet and restaurant space, but you’ll also find the main lobby and customer service sections. The upper floors featured restaurants reserved for members in addition to a fully stocked bar and pool hall.

As far the resort area is concerned though, most of the facilities were located below ground with a squash court, gym, massage rooms, sauna and spa, children’s play area, dance hall, yoga room and entertainment room. On the level below that were the administrative sections of the resort as well as the staff change rooms.

Connected directly to the resort area of the basement was a passageway that led directly to the retractable-roof covered pool area where members could enjoy the sun and go for a swim. Finally, connected directly to the pool area is another large building that featured a car park on the lower levels and a tennis court above.

Having been abandoned for two decades with little-to-no upkeep, the interior of the building remains in relatively good shape, especially since some areas have been open to the elements for years and given its proximity to the coast. When abandoned, the place wasn’t gutted, so you can still find quite a few interesting items inside that allow you to easily date when the place went out of business.

That being said, in recent years a considerable amount of vandalism and theft has taken place within the building. While much of what remains inside that would have been of some value is outdated and unusable in terms of the electronic equipment, the vast majority of visitors you’ll find in the building aren’t respectful urban explorers, but scavengers who are ripping up the walls in order to tear out electrical wiring, which can be sold for a significant amount of money.

Obviously, it’s highly unlikely that this resort will ever be revived, nor will any of the people who lost money be refunded. Its situation however is a complex one as the business group that ran the resort and the actual landowner are different. Eventually the landowner may just decide to have the whole thing torn down with plans to make better use of the land. As time has passed, the scandal involved in the closure of the business and its members being defrauded has been largely forgotten, but recent developments with Taiwan’s response to the COVID-19 pandemic have brought what happened back to the limelight with the former owner of the resort resurfacing and becoming a public figure once again.

And there is your clue.

As mentioned above, what attracted me most about this resort was the massive size of the ruin - It’s rare that we’re able to explore a ruin so large as spaces like this are usually repurposed quite quickly, especially here in this part of the country. Taking into consideration that this was a luxury resort for the rich and famous, the architectural design of the interior is large and open and one of the coolest aspects are the stairs in the main building, which are quite uncommon in Taiwan.

Spending the better part of a day exploring this place, one visit really doesn’t seem enough as there is so much that you can see while inside the building. This is especially true with all of the random objects strewn about the lower levels, notably including VHS cassettes of classic cartoons, Windows and MS-DOS floppy discs, old arcade machines, old magazines, newspapers, etc.

While exploring a ruin like this, the objects left behind are often able to paint a picture of the history of the building making the exploration process considerably more interesting.

Even though a considerable amount of what probably once existed within the building has been looted, there is still a treasure trove available for explorers to enjoy.

Anyway, that’s all for this one. Enjoy the photos.


Xinxikou Suspension Bridge (新溪口吊橋)

From the perspective of a foreigner living in Taiwan, I have to say that this country can a be a bit weird when it comes to it’s fads; If you’ve been in the country over the past couple of years, you’re likely to have noticed a sudden obsession with claw machines - almost every city, town and village across the country has been rather annoyingly been overrun with the noisy machines. Similarly, when it comes to food, we’ve gone through periods where you’d find a sudden influx of hamburger, pineapple buns and egg tarts places making a quick buck, before closing up shop and moving onto the next sensation. 

When it comes to tourist destinations, social media trends tend to drive most of the interest in specific locations, but one of the more noticeable tourist fads in recent years has been with the appearance of a bunch of newly constructed suspension bridges in picturesque mountain areas.

I can’t particularly speak to the motivations for building these bridges, or their popularity, but with recent trends in domestic tourism shifting toward getting out and enjoying the natural beauty of the country, you’ll discover that mountain destinations are likely to be packed with weekend tourists, looking for something new to do! 

That being said, some of the suspension bridges that have been making an appearance as of late aren’t actually all that ‘new’. Sure, you’ll find some that have glass floors, constructed with modern engineering techniques, but in a lot of cases they’re just modern replacements for a much older bridge.

Case in point, the bridge I’m going to be introducing today! 

Before I start introducing the bridge, I should take a minute to explain something, especially since this is the second article I’ve published covering a suspension bridge in the mountains of Taoyuan in recent months. 

Link: Yixing Suspension Bridge (義興吊橋)

Have I succumbed to the suspension bridge fad? No, I promise you I haven’t.

There’s a reason why I’m writing about these popular tourist spots.

Basically, these articles are meant to be an extension of the work I published in my article, The Daxi that Japan left behind (日本留下的大溪), where I’ll be continuing my research on the development of Taoyuan during the Japanese-era, with Daxi acting as the processing centre for much of the natural resources taken from the mountainous areas. In the next few months I’ll be publishing further work that focuses on the various aspects of the mountainous village of Jiaobanshan (角板山), known during the Japanese-era as Kappanzan (カッバンソァン), where this suspension bridge is located.

So, even though this bridge was completely reconstructed a few years ago, it has also been an important part of the village for the better part of a century, connecting two sides of the Dahan River (大漢溪). and the communities that existed on both sides for well over a century!

Xikou Suspension Bridge (溪口吊橋)

The ‘Jiaobanshan’ area as it is known today has been home to sparse groups of Atayal Indigenous tribes (泰雅族) for hundreds if not thousands of years, referring to it in the their native language as “Pyasan” (北亞山).

Having settled in the area for so long, you might be surprised to learn that the majority of the tribes that exist in Taoyuan’s Fuxing District (復興區) today have actually only occupied space there since the late 1800s.

In fact, many of the ‘tribal areas’ that have been set up in the district today were forced to resettle there as they were forced to abandon their homes in the nearby mountains of Wulai-Sanxia (烏來-三峽) when the Qing started encroaching on their lands, and then following with the arrival of the Japanese in Taiwan. 

Despite armed resistance against both the Qing and Japanese forces, the Atayal people suffered considerable losses, and ultimately succumbed to resettling in areas much deeper in the mountains where they thought they’d be safer. 

Link: Sanxia Loyal Spirit Monument (三峽忠魂碑) 

One of those resettled groups were the Rahaw (拉號), known in Mandarin as the Xikou Tribe (溪口台部落), who settled on the remote opposite side of the river from Kappanzan, which was developed early on during the Japanese-era for the extraction of camphor and tea. Living on the other side of the river, the tribe likely figured that they’d be left alone, but the Japanese had other ideas.

Marching into the area with an armed force of over two thousand soldiers in 1907 (明治40年), the colonial government sought to pacify Indigenous resistance to their rule, and for a three month period the army advanced from Abohei (Amuping / 阿姆坪) all the way to Kappanzan, following the river, in what would become known as the Chinto-zan Conflict (枕頭山戰役). 

Once the area was firmly under Japanese control, construction started on a number of facilities dedicated to ensuring the efficiency of the extraction of natural resources from the mountains.

Ironically, with major hostilities at an end, and taking into consideration the importance of Taiwan’s mountainous areas for the colonial government’s extraction of natural resources, initiatives were taken to attempt a ‘softer’ approach to the sword in dealing with Taiwan’s Indigenous people. Doctors, dentists and educators sent to Kappazan ((and other predominately indigenous areas around the island) and schools and medical stations were constructed in an attempt to usher in ‘improvement’ in the quality of life for these groups.

Of course, it should go without saying that this farcical ‘softer approach’ wasn’t entirely altruistic, as much of the educational system was meant to erase Indigenous cultural values, traditional customs and identity.

The bridge is a bit blown out in this photo, but you can see where it connected to the rice terrace.

At the same time, scientists came to the area looking for breakthroughs in the cultivation of cinchona (金雞納樹), a flowering plant known for its medicinal value, especially with regard to treating malaria, which was a huge problem in Taiwan prior to the arrival of the Japanese. 

In 1922 (大正11年), construction on a steel suspension bridge that spanned the Dahan River was completed, connecting Kappanzan to the tribe, known at the time as ‘Raho-sha’ (拉號社). Referred to by local historians as the ‘First Generation Xikou Suspension Bridge’ (第一代溪口吊橋), the bridge brought economic opportunity to the tribe soon after its completion as engineers constructed a genius irrigation system on the plateau for the cultivation of rice. 

When Super Typhoon Gloria (颱風葛樂禮) swept through northern Taiwan in the summer of 1963 (民國52年), it left a considerable amount of damage and hundreds dead in its wake. Another of its victims was the suspension bridge, which once again cut off the Rahaw from the community in Jiaobanshan. 

Soon after, the Second Generation Xikou Suspension Bridge (第二代溪口吊橋) was constructed for the ‘benefit’ of the tribe across the river, which was gifted the unfortunate nickname the ‘Presidential Tribe’ (總統部落) due to President Chiang Kai-shek’s (蔣介石) affinity for the area. (He had a villa in Jiaobanshan).

The newly bridge had an improved capacity of fifteen people at a time, and was used from 1963 until 2015, when it was dismantled to make way for the third generation bridge, a much grander version of it’s predecessors.

Xinxikou Suspension Bridge (新溪口吊橋)

The latest version of the Xikou Suspension Bridge opened to the public in January 2018, measuring at a length of 330 meters, and is (currently) the nation’s longest suspension bridge. Located next to where the original bridge was located, the new version is almost double the length, and is 23 meters above the river, much higher of the original. Where the second generation bridge could only safely sustain about fifteen people at once, the new bridge can easily accommodate more than a hundred, and is wide enough for people to walk back and forth, rather than single file. 

By 2010, it was decided that after a half century, the old Xikou bridge had become far too unstable after years of abuse to continue using for much longer, so the Taoyuan City government came up with a plan to replace it for the third time. This time however, the focus would be on providing a more enjoyable experience for the locals, while also creating a new tourist destination in the mountains that would compliment Jiaobanshan Park (角板山公園).

Instead of referring to it as the 'Third Generation Xikou Bridge’, authorities decided instead to call it the ‘Xinxikou Suspension Bridge’ (新溪口吊橋), which is just the romanized pinyin version of “New Xikou Bridge,” which if you ask me is a bit of a head-scratcher. If it were up to me, I would have taken the opportunity to just rename it completely to better reflect the Indigenous community that it serves, but apparently no one thought about that. 

Nevertheless, where the bridge does reflect the Atayal Indigenous community is in its color scheme and the designs along the sides. Likewise, the side opposite of Jiaobanshan currently features a Tribal market (溪口部落市集廣場), where you can sample some local cuisine (mixed in with typical night market fare) as well as stalls set up to sell arts and crafts, allowing the local community to benefit from the increased tourism in the area. 

In Mandarin, the bridge is known officially as a hammock-style suspension bridge (懸吊式吊橋), in engineering terms, its technically an ‘underspanned suspension bridge’ in that it is anchored deep into the ground on both sides with cables spreading out (in a hammock-like fashion) across its underbelly, with the deck raised on posts above. With this type of bridge, visitors are better able to enjoy the beauty of the natural environment without a bunch of cables getting in the way, but it is a less stable engineering style that does allow for a bit of rocking back and forth when people are walking across the bridge. 

As an extension of the Jiaobanshan Park, which attracts quite a bit of weekend and holiday tourist traffic, most people visiting the bridge are going to do so from that side of the river. Jiaobanshan however is located on a plateau high above the river, so there is a bit of a nature hike involved if you’d like to cross the bridge.

The tree-covered walk is a nice one, but there are quite a few stairs, so once you walk down and cross the bridge, it’s actually really great that there’s an Indigenous market on the other side where you can buy some snacks and drinks before heading back up the hill.

When the bridge first opened to the public a few years back, it was so popular that an online reservation system had to be set up to ensure that long lines of cars wouldn’t be clogging up the narrow mountain highway. Thankfully, some of that popularity has died off as time has passed, so if you are visiting the area today, you shouldn’t have much problem checking out the bridge. 

Oh, and before I finish, I should probably let you know that if the weather is cooperating on the day of your visit, you’re going to be rewarded with some pretty spectacular mountain landscapes with the beautiful turquoise Dahan River (大漢溪) flowing below. You may notice that I’m sharing photos from two different visits to the bridge. On my first visit, the bridge was closed (due to COVID protocols), and the river below was pretty much empty due to a massive drought that we were having at the time. I was much luckier on my second visit as the bridge was open, the weather was perfect and the river was flowing beautifully. 

If you have the opportunity to visit, I hope you’re lucky enough to go on a beautiful day! 

Hours: Wednesday - Monday (8:00 - 15:30)

Admission: $NT 50 per person. 

Website: 新溪口吊橋 (Facebook)

Getting There

 

Address: #8 Zhongshan Road, Fuxing District, Taoyuan. (桃園市復興區澤仁里中山路8號)

GPS: 24.814489, 121.350792

The great thing about bridges is that they connect two sides of a river, right?

Well, that’s ironically also the confusing thing for a lot of tourists who want to visit this bridge. 

You can access this bridge from either the Jiaobanshan (角板山) side, or the Xikou Tribe (溪口部落  / Hbun Rahaw takan) side, with a list of pros and cons for both. For anyone taking public transportation to the area, you’re going to be forced to visit the bridge from the Jiaobanshan side, which features the steep walk down a set of stairs to the bridge mentioned above, something you’ll have to repeat when you’re done. 

On the other hand, if you have access to your own means of transportation, you have the option of starting from the opposite side of the river, but parking on that side is more expensive, and spaces are limited, so you may end up having to wait in line on weekends.

That being said, parking within the Jiaobanshan area can often be difficult to find and expensive as well.

If you’re driving a car or scooter you have the choice of parking anywhere within Jiaobanshan and walking the rest of the way to the bridge. If you choose to start from the other side, you’ll have to pass by Jiaobanshan and continue along the Northern Cross-Island Highway (北橫公路), crossing the Fuxing Bridge (復興大橋) into Luofu Village (羅浮), where you’ll make a right turn onto the famed “Roman Road” (羅馬公路) on your way to the Xikou Tribal area, finally stopping at the Xikou Tribe Cultural Square (溪口部落文化廣場). 

The address here is different than the one provided above, so to make your way to the bridge on the opposite side, I recommend inputting this address into your GPS or Google Maps: 

Address: #59-1 Xikoutai, Fuxing District, Taoyuan (桃園市復興區澤仁里4鄰溪口台59-1號)

Public Transportation

If you don’t have access to your own means of transportation, there are a few different bus routes that you can take from the Daxi Bus Station (大溪客運站) to get to the area. In each case you’ll take the bus from Daxi all the way to the Fuxing Station (復興站) within Jiaobanshan Village and from there you’ll walk to the trail that brings you to the bridge. 

  • Taoyuan Bus (桃園客運) Bus #5104 (Daxi - Luofu / 大溪 - 羅浮口)

  • Taoyuan Bus (桃園客運) Bus #5105 (Daxi - Xiaowulai / 大溪 - 小烏來)

  • Taoyuan Bus (桃園客運) Bus #5106 (Daxi - Xiayun Village / 大溪 - 霞雲里)

  • Taoyuan Bus (桃園客運) Bus #5109 (Daxi - Gaorao / 大溪 - 高遶)

For those of you unfamiliar with the Daxi area, you’ll also have to find public transportation to get to the bus station there. There are a number of options for taking the bus to Daxi either directly from the railway stations in Taoyuan or from Taipei. I’ll provide each of the buses that you can take below with links to where you can find the bus, their route map and their schedule.

  • Taoyuan Bus (桃園客運) #5096 (Taoyuan - Daxi / 桃園 - 大溪)

  • Taoyuan Bus (桃園客運) #5098 (Zhongli- Daxi / 中壢 - 大溪)

  • Taoyuan Bus (桃園客運) #9103 (Banqiao - Daxi / 板橋 - 大溪)

  • Taoyuan Bus (桃園客運) #710 (Yongning MRT Station - Daxi / 永寧捷運站 - 大溪)

  • Taiwan Trip Tour Bus (台灣好行) #501 (Taoyuan HSR Station - Daxi / 桃園高鐵站 - 大溪)

Links: Taoyuan Bus (桃園客運) | Taiwan Trip Shuttle (台灣好行)

The Xinxikou Suspension Bridge is just one of a long list of interesting tourist destinations within the Jiaobanshan area in addition to nearby Xiaowulai (小烏來). If you find yourself in the area on a day-trip, I highly recommend you stop by to check out the bridge, which (if the weather is cooperating) can be a beautiful experience. You’ll want to make sure to check out some of the other cool places to visit while you’re in the area, and I recommend you take some time to try some of the Indigenous fried mushrooms and peach smoothies when you’re in town! 

I’ll have quite a bit more about the area over the next little while, so watch this space if you’re interested in what the area has to offer! 

References

  1. 新溪口吊橋 (桃園觀光導覽網)

  2. 溪口吊橋 (Wiki)

  3. 溪口吊橋 (國家文化記憶庫)

  4. 新溪口吊橋‧站在台灣最長的懸索橋欣賞大漢溪谷的風光 (旅遊圖中)

  5. 桃園】復興-羅馬公路:溪口台部落 (湘的部落格)

  6. 第139章[桃園市復興區] 樟香勾勒起的百年大夢 (William的旅行筆記)

  7. 臺灣國定古蹟編纂研究小組 (National Historic Monuments of Taiwan)