Travel

The Fairy Cave Temple (仙洞巖 + 佛手洞)

Taiwan’s northern port city of Keelung has always been one of the nation’s most international cities. Having experienced periods of Dutch, Spanish, Chinese and Japanese rule, control of the northern port has always been the gateway to Taipei and the rest of Taiwan.

The Keelung of the modern era is a vibrant international port city with cruise ships from around the world docking in the harbor as well as a large number of cargo container ships coming and going.

With a history dating back several hundred years, the city has a number of historic destinations for tourists to visit and to learn about the special city, and its development over the centuries.

Unfortunately, something I’ve come to realize over the years is that Keelung rarely ever receives a fraction of the attention in the English-language as other areas of the country. I’ve always wondered if this was because some of the history in the area isn’t as well-documented or well-preserved, of its simply because it rains so much that most tourists prefer to just check out the night market whenever they’re in town.

Suffice to say, as a history buff, I’m a big fan of Keelung and over the next few months I’ll be introducing a number of the city’s tourist destinations. In this one I’m going to introduce a pretty cool, yet somewhat obscure Keelung tourist destination that (like so many other of the city’s attractions) has received little-to-no attention, or promotion in English-language tourism spheres. Obviously not every foreign tourist is as interested in Taiwan’s places of worship as I am, but when it comes to this one, I’m surprised that the tourist bureau hasn’t put in a little more effort given that it is located within a large cave next to the ocean.

If advertised properly, it could be one of those ‘mystical places of worship’ that foreign tourists are attracted to, especially since it is reminiscent to the beautiful Tham Khao Luang Cave (ถ้ำเขาหลวง) just outside of Bangkok in Thailand.

The so-called ‘Fairy Cave temple’ and the ‘Buddha’s Hand Cave,’ are both part of the same network of mountainous sea caverns located next to the port of Keelung and just like the rest of the city, this place of worship has a history that both spans the several eras of Taiwan’s colonial history, and even though it has evolved throughout the years, you’ll find that history written all over its walls.

No matter how much has changed at the cave throughout the years, it has always remained a place of worship steeped in local legend, and with the calming sound of the waves crashing against the shoreline, it can be a quiet place of refuge for anyone seeking a bit of solitude in the busy international port city.

Fairy Cave Temple (仙洞巖最勝寺)

With thousands of places of worship throughout Taiwan, tourists and locals alike are afforded a wide variety of religious destinations to visit. It’s safe to say however that only a handful of them have been constructed within a natural sea cave, allowing them to stand out from the rest.

The so-called ‘Fairy Cave’ (仙洞巖) as it is currently known has gone by a few different names over the past few centuries, but it has been a place of worship for much of Keelung’s recorded history.

Prior to becoming a place of worship, the cave was regarded as a natural refuge for local fishers when the weather turned foul, as it so often does along Taiwan’s north coast. Eventually setting up a shrine within the cave, the fishers made use of the space to pray for safety while out on the water.

It’s unclear as to when organized worship at the cave officially started, but in renowned poet Lee Feng-Shih’s (李逢時) poem titled “The Eight Scenic Wonders of Keelung” (雞籠八景詩), he references the cave by saying “You don’t have to have the ability to fly to become a fairy” (不必飛昇人亦仙), with references to the cave from other scholars to around sometime in the mid-nineteenth century.

View from the main entrance.

Note: The Chinese characters used for “Keelung” in the poem mentioned above is pronounced “jī lóng” (雞籠) in Mandarin or “Ke-lâng” in Taiwanese. While the Mandarin pronunciation remains the same today, the original characters are loosely translated as “Chicken Cage” (雞籠), and was the original name used for the area prior to 1876, when it was officially changed to the name we use today.

To answer an age-old question that many foreigners have - the reason why we refer to the city today as “Keelung” in English instead of “Jilong” is because that is the Taiwanese-Hokkien pronunciation (Ki-liông / Ke-lâng) of the city rather than the Mandarin one.

Link: 【臺灣地名真相】基隆叫基隆,是因為長得像雞籠嗎?

Without a clear recorded history prior to the Japanese-era, it is understood that the place of worship within the cave has gone by several names over the years being referred to as “Zuisheng Temple” (最勝寺), Rinzai Myōshin-ji Zuisheng Zen Temple (臨濟宗妙心寺派最勝寺), Dai-Ming Temple (代明宮) and Benten Shrine (辨天宮), among others.

These days it is referred to simply as the “Fairy Cave Temple” (仙洞巖), but formally retains its full name “Zuisheng Fairy Cave Temple” (仙洞巖最勝寺).

In 1872 (清同治11年), during the latter stages of the Qing Dynasty, a formal place of worship was constructed within the cave known as Dai-Ming Temple (代明宮), dedicated to Buddhist practice.

A few decades later when the Japanese took control of Taiwan in 1895, Keelung, or “Kiirun” (きーるん) as it became known, was one of the first areas where the Japanese were able to set up official administrative agencies. This was in part due to the port, Taiwan’s northern-most, becoming instrumental in transporting people and supplies to the island, in addition to already having an established, yet rudimentary railway link between the port and the capital.

Praying to one of the carved images on the cave walls.

The early years of the colonial era saw a considerable amount of Japanese nationals coming to the island for work (on a temporary or long-term basis), bringing with them knowledge and expertise as well as their cultural and religious practices. So, in addition to several Shinto Shrines constructed in the port area, a number of Japanese Buddhist groups started setting up roots in the city, most notably the Jodo (淨土宗), Soto (曹洞宗), Shingon (真言宗) and Rinzai (臨濟宗) sects.

Most notably for the Fairy Cave, the Myōshin-ji (妙心寺 / みょうしんじ), headquartered in Kyoto and the largest group within the Rinzai sect, initially seized upon the opportunity to set up shop in the ‘Fairy Cave’ but there are conflicting reports as to how long that shrine within the cave lasted.

Links: Huguo Rinzai Temple (臨濟護國禪寺) | Puji Temple (普濟寺)

There are differing accounts on what happened in the early 1900s, as there are claims that the shrine within the cave has always remained a Buddhist place of worship while others argue that the Buddha’s were re-located elsewhere in 1906 (明治39年), and a Shinto Shrine constructed on the site shortly after. The surprising thing is that the official records on the subject aren’t actually as clear, leading to debate within academic circles. Photographic evidence of the site makes it ‘somewhat’ clear that the Fairy Cave was converted into a Shinto Shrine in the late Meiji era.

With the consecration of a Shinto Shrine on the site taking place in 1911 (明治44年), it’s highly unlikely that any of the Buddhist-related materials remained within the cave as there are accounts that the statues of Shakyamuni (釋迦佛) were removed and sent elsewhere.

As a Shinto Shrine, Benten Shrine (仙洞弁天宮 / べんてんみや), predated the Keelung Shinto Shrine (基隆神社 / きーるんじんじゃ), and was one of a dozen shrines constructed in the Keelung area during the Japanese era.

Similar to the Keelung Shrine, the shrine was dedicated to Amaterasu (天照皇大神), the Three Deities Of Cultivation (開拓三神), Ōmononushi (大物主命), Emperor Sutoku (崇德天皇), and Prince Kitashirakawa Yoshihisa (北白川宮能久親王) in addition to Benzaitian (弁才天 / べんざいてん), or ‘Ichikishima-hime-no-mikoto’ (市杵島姫命 / “Heavenly Princess Ichikishima”), the goddess of water, music, arts, wisdom, wealth and fortune, whom the shrine was named after.

Link: Keelung Martyrs Shrine (基隆忠烈祠)

With a several decade history as a Shinto Shrine from 1911, until the colonial era ended in 1945, I’d venture to guess that some of the confusion with regard to the Fairy Cave is due to the fact that some of the Buddha statues enshrined there today originated in Japan and date back to the colonial era. What gives people the biggest headache trying to figure all of this out however was that the Goddess Benzaiten is a figure that was introduced to Taiwan with the arrival of the Japanese, and is worshipped interchangeably as both a Buddhist figure and a Shinto kami (deity).

Location of the cave marked on a Japanese-era map of the port of Keelung

Note: Belonging to a group known as the “Seven Lucky Gods” (七福神 / しちふくじん), Benzaiten is one of the most prominent deities within Japanese religious traditions that is worshipped in both Buddhism and Shintoism. Representing the syncretistic mixture of influences that have defined Japanese religion over the last thousand or more years. Originating as the Hindu Goddess Saraswati, and then incorporated within Buddhism and China and moving onto Japan, she has been a popular figure within Japanese religious traditions since the 6th Century. Given her prominent role within both religious traditions, worship of Benzaiten was one of the few ‘foreign’ influenced religious practices that was able to escape the separation of Buddhism and State Shinto during the Meiji Restoration (明治維新 / めいじいしん).

Academics point to historic photos of the exterior of the Fairy Cave taken during the Japanese-era with a torii gate (鳥居), and a traditional ‘walking path’ (參道) leading toward the cave as evidence that the place of worship was converted into a Shinto Shrine, given that these types of gates are almost always an indication of a Shinto Shrine. With regard to this specific goddess, that actually isn’t the best indicator as her worship is often the exception to the rule when it comes to these gates. As a syncretic goddess, both Shinto Shrines and Buddhist temples dedicated to her worship feature a torii gate. Fortunately, there’s a photo of the interior of the shrine (below) which clearly indicates that it was a Shinto Shrine as there is a ‘shintai’ (神体), known as a sacred mirror and is the repository of a Shinto deity.

Shrine located within the cave during the Japanese-era featuring a ‘sacred mirror.’

Interestingly, when the the colonial era came to an end and the Fairy Cave was converted back into a Buddhist temple, nothing changed with regard to the worship of Benzaiten, which continues to this day.

In the post-war era, the place of worship within the Fairy Cave was restored to its original name ‘Zuisheng Temple’ (最勝寺), and over the years it has been restored on a few occasions becoming a Keelung City Protected Heritage Site (基隆市古蹟) in 2006.

Now, let’s get into some specifics about the Fairy Cave in its current form.

As mentioned above, the cave was once a safe haven for fishers in the Keelung area, and as it predates the port, its formation took place over many thousands of years with erosion caused by seawater. As we know it today, it has a depth of about 80 meters and varies in width in the various sections of the cavern, but has a total space of about 1650㎡ (500坪).

Having recently gone under a period of restoration, the path to the Fairy Cave features a newly constructed ‘paifang’ gate (牌坊), a Chinese-style gate that demarcates the name of the cave and the temple within. Amazingly, the path that leads to the main entrance remains the same as the original ‘visiting path’ from its days as a Shinto Shrine, although the walkway was recently restored as well.

At the entrance to the cave you’ll find what looks like the facade of a typical Chinese-style place of worship that adds a bit of traditional decoration to the entrance as well as serving a practical role of stabilizing the cave-front, which could easily be destroyed by a land slide or an earthquake. The artificially constructed cave-front ‘temple facade’ features beautiful golden calligraphy that reads “仙洞巖” (Fairy Cave), and has a double-layered temple roof with a dharma wheel on the apex, indicating that a Buddhist place of worship is found within.

To the right of the main entrance you’ll find a large cement pedestal with a giant statue of the Buddha on it, but what interested me the most about the cave-front are the remnants of the Japanese-era Shinto Shrine on the opposite side of the giant Buddha where you’ll find some objects dating back to the early years of the Showa era.

Although the temple within the cave is primarily a Buddhist place of worship, like so many other temples throughout Taiwan, you’ll find a mixture of figures from both Buddhism and Taiwanese folk religion, with several interesting shrines inside. While space is obviously quite limited in the cave, you’ll find almost as many shrines as you would in a typical several-floored temple indicating a pretty good use of space.

The interior is essentially divided into three sections or ‘halls’ with the two largest known as “Yuantong Hall” (圓通寶殿) and “Mahavira Hall” (大雄寶殿), with a much smaller offshoot cave featuring a small shrine.

As soon as you enter the cave you’ll find yourself in the ‘Yuantong Hall’, with a shrine devoted to the Maitreya Buddha (彌勒佛), an offering table and an incense table very close to the front door. On both the left and right sides of the shrine you’ll find statues of the Four Heavenly Kings (四大天王), who are generally regarded as protector deities.

Passing by the first shrine, you’ll walk down a set of stairs and will find another shrine dedicated to a number of important Buddhist figures, including a couple variations of Guanyin (觀世音菩薩), accompanied by Skanda (韋馱菩薩), Samgharama (伽藍神) and the Earth God (土地公), a folk religion deity. On either side of the shrine you’ll also find a display of the famed eighteen arhats (十八羅漢), the Buddha’s most important disciples.

To the direct left of this shrine you’ll find the entrance to the smallest shrine room in the Fairy Cave, an extremely narrow several meter long path that is only wide enough for one-way traffic, and in parts becomes so small that you’ll have to crouch and twist and turn to get yourself through.

If you’re even a little claustrophobic, this path isn’t for you as it’s likely to give you a panic attack.

All of the hard work getting through the narrow path doesn’t really pay off for most people as once you get to the end you’re met with a simple shrine in a dark room where the air is a bit stagnant. The shrine at the end of the cave is dedicated to Benzaiten (弁才天 / べんざいてん), the Buddhist and Shinto figure mentioned above and is a fitting tribute to the Fairy Cave’s history.

The Benzaiten Shrine

Passing from the first part of the cave into the main area, you’ll find some beautifully carved images along the cave wall. These images took several years to create, and you’ll often find visitors praying next to them as they depict important Buddhist figures, including Manjusri (文殊菩薩), Ksitigarbha Buddha (地藏菩薩) and four images of Guanyin (觀世音菩薩). Unlike some of the other carvings on the cave wall that date back hundreds of years, these are relatively new as they were created in the early 1970s.

The Guanyin Shrine

As I mentioned earlier, the largest and widest section of the cave is home to the main shrine, known as “Mahavira Hall” (大雄寶殿), which doesn’t sound very Chinese, right? It is actually one of the most common titles used for Buddhist shrines throughout East Asia, translated directly from Sanskrit and literally means “Precious Hall of the Great Hero,” but is often translated simply as “Great Hall,” which I think loses a bit of its intended meaning.

In the dim-lit cave, the main shrine almost glows as you approach it with the large golden ‘Three Treasure’ Buddha statues (三寶佛). In the middle you’ll find Shakyamuni (釋迦牟尼佛) with the Medicine Buddha (藥師佛) and Amida Buddha (阿彌陀佛) on either side, accompanied by dozens of smaller Buddha statues surrounding them to the rear and sides. As the main attraction of the Fairy Cave temple, this area is usually the busiest with visitors stopping by to pray while others grab a cushion to sit on the floor to meditate.

It can be a busy place, but also quite peaceful at the same time.

Within the main cave you’ll also find three smaller shrines, two of which are housed in cute miniature temple-looking buildings. To the left of the shrine you’ll find the Goddess of Childbirth (註生娘娘), a local folk religion deity. The other miniature temple is dedicated to the legendary Chinese scholar and poet, Lu Dongbin (呂洞賓), who is most well-known today as one of the ‘Eight Immortals’ (八仙).

The Japanese Jizo statue

Finally, the last of the smaller shrines is located on the right of the main shrine - a nod to the cave’s history there is a small shrine to Ksitigarbha Buddha (地藏菩薩), better known in Japan as ‘Jizo’ (じぞうぼさつ), and is one of the nation’s most loved and respected religious figures. In this case, it’s important to note that the Jizo that appears in this shrine is a Japanese-style Buddha, although its history is unclear, it might possibly be one of the original statues from the Japanese-era.

Calligraphy etched into the walls

Finally, I think it’s important to mention that there are a number of carvings on the walls throughout the cave, some of which are not only historic, but are quite beautiful in the calligraphy that they present. With a collection of almost two dozen phrases and idioms ranging from the late Qing Dynasty through to the Japanese-era, it would honestly take me far too long to translate each of them for you, so I’m not going to bother at this point, but if you find yourself in the cave, I highly recommend taking some time to check them out even if you can’t understand what they say.

Buddha’s Hand Cave (佛手洞)

Entrance to the Buddha’s cave

Located less than thirty meters away from the entrance to the Fairy Cave, you’ll find a footpath that wraps around the mountain to reveal another cave entrance, this time to the ‘Buddha’s Hand Cave’ (佛手洞).

Prior to receiving its most recent name, the cave was home to a habitat of bats, and locals simply referred to the caverns as ‘the bat cave’ (蝙蝠洞). During the Second World War, the cave was used as an air raid shelter while allied bombing runs targeted the nearby port, and other military installations in the area. With so much human activity in the caves, the number of bats declined and eventually they had enough of all the humans invading their space and moved out.

Consisting of a number of caverns, at some point the local government poured a bunch of concrete on the cave floor and electrified areas to provide some extra light within the cave in order to better promote it to local tourists. While not entirely necessary, given the amount of natural light that comes into the caves, it probably saves people from injuring themselves on wet days, which lets face it is most of the time in Keelung.

Walking through the lit caverns of the Buddha’s cave

Remarkably quiet, save for the sound of tourists, the natural sea-eroded cave features a high ceiling and smooth cave walls thanks to thousands of years of weathering and erosion. With natural mountain water dripping from the ceiling, the cave can be damp at times, but the sound of water drops is sometimes all that you’ll hear while exploring the cave, which is a welcome break from the busy city.

The current name of the cave is derived from a naturally designed pattern on part of the cave ceiling that appears similar to a giant hand, similar to the image of the Buddha’s hand, which has become a well-known image within Buddhist iconography, signifying generosity and peace. The design, caused by natural weathering in the rock has turned somewhat green and is easily noticeable while exploring the cave.

If you find yourself visiting Keelung on a hot summer day, the cave can be a great place of refuge from the sun as the various entrances allow for a nice amount of air to blow through proving a natural air conditioner for visitors.

Can you see it?

If you’re like myself and aren’t particularly impressed by all the rock formations that are popular tourist destinations with the locals in Taiwan, never fear, exploring the cave is already a cool enough experience that you don’t really have to spend too much time checking out the so-called Buddha’s hand, even though I have to admit, it does actually look like a hand.

Getting There

 

Address: No. 1, Renan St, Zhongshan District, Keelung City (基隆市中山區仙洞里仁安街1號)

GPS: 25.145208°N 121.748374°E

Located on the western side of Keelung Harbor, both the Fairy Cave and Buddha’s Cave are located within a historic area of the city, but also a pretty remote section of town. As a somewhat popular tourist attraction, you’ll often find quite a few visitors on weekends and national holidays. However, unless you have your own means of transportation, getting to the cave is somewhat of a hassle for anyone unfamiliar with the city.

If you have access to your own means of transportation, simply input the address provided above into your GPS or Google Maps and you should have no problem arriving at the cave. Fortunately, there is an ample amount of parking nearby, so you shouldn’t have much trouble finding a spot, even if the cave is busy. It’s important to keep in mind though that the area is often frequented by large trucks transporting things back and forth out of the port, and the road conditions are often a bit difficult with what seems to be perpetual construction between the area where the station and the cave are located. If you’re driving a car, you may find yourself stuck in traffic while road work is taking place.

If you’ve ever read any of my articles about Keelung, you’ll probably have already seen my complaints regarding public transportation in the city - I absolutely love visiting Keelung, but without access to sharable bicycle and scooter systems like YouBike and GoShare, it makes getting around somewhat difficult for anyone coming from out-of-town without a car.

So if you’ve arrived in Keelung and are looking for a way to get around on your own, I recommend visiting one of the scooter rental shops opposite the train station where you can rent a scooter for the day.

If you don’t have a scooter license, your options will more or less rely on walking, taxi’s or city buses.

From the train station, the cave is about a thirty-nine minute walk, making a visit a major time investment, especially if you have other places to visit on your itinerary. Taking a taxi there and back can also be quite expensive, so your best option is to simply take one of the public buses that stop nearby.

To get to the Fairy Cave, you have the option of the following three bus routes:

  1. Keelung Bus (基隆公車) 301 (Taibaizhuang 太白莊)

  2. Keelung Bus (基隆公車) 302 (Zhongshan Senior High School 中山高中)

  3. Keelung Bus (基隆公車) 304 (Gaoyuan New Village 高遠新村)

For each of the buses, you can hop on at a bus station near the Keelung Train Station (基隆火車站), and you’ll get off at the Fairy Cave Stop (仙洞巖站) where both caves are a two minute walk away.

When you’re done, simply hop on one of the buses back to the train station.

For bus 301 and 304, you’ll find the bus stop at the South entrance to Keelung Station (基隆火車站南站) while 302 can be taken from the Keelung City Bus Station (基隆火車站總站) nearby.

While it might seem like somewhat of an obscure tourist destination, exploring a place of worship within a cave is actually a pretty interesting experience. The Fairy Cave is damp, and the air inside is a constant haze of incense, but the temple certainly stands apart from all of the others that you’ll come across in Taiwan.

A visit to both the Buddha’s Cave and the Fairy Cave will only require about an hour of your time, so if you’re in town to check out the famed night market, a stop over at these caves will be a cool adventure.

References

  1. 仙洞巖 | Xian Dong Yan (Wiki)

  2. 仙洞巖 | Fairy Cave (基隆旅遊網)

  3. 仙洞巖 (國家文化資產網)

  4. 仙洞巖 (台灣宗教文化資產)

  5. 仙洞巖與佛手洞 (地球上的火星人)

  6. 仙洞巖.佛手洞.大武崙海灘 (Tony的自然人文旅記)

  7. 佛手洞 (基隆旅遊網)


Hsinchu Prison Martial Arts Hall (新竹少年刑務所演武場)

Years ago, when I first started combining photography with writing about Taiwan, I didn’t really have any idea where this whole blogging thing would take me. I figured I’d simply share photos of places I was traveling to in my free time with a bit of information about them. Then one day, on a scooter trip to Hsinchu, I decided to stop by the yet to be restored Longtan Martial Arts Hall thanks to a tip from a friend. That visit spawned a several-year long research project into Taiwan’s Japanese Colonial era, resulting in visiting almost all of the remaining Martial Arts Halls as well as many other train stations, civic buildings, dormitories, etc. 

What started out as a simple visit to a semi-abandoned building transformed this space into one of the most authoritative spaces on the web that tells the story of these former Martial Arts Halls; Having visited a large percentage of the halls that remain in Taiwan today, I decided to write a general guide so that people could learn more about their complicated history.  

Link: The Martial Arts Halls of Taiwan (臺灣の武德殿)

More specifically, the guide features a list of sixteen remaining halls, most of which have been restored and re-opened to the public as historic tourist destinations. There were a few on the list however that were somewhat questionable as to whether or not they’d ever be restored. The Xinzhuang Martial Arts Hall (新莊武德殿) and the former Hsinchu Juvenile Prison Martial Arts Hall (新竹少年刑務所演武場), for example were two that had an uncertain future.

I’m happy to report however that the Xinzhuang Martial Arts Hall is currently being restored, and it should be re-opened within the next year or two. Even better is that the Hsinchu Prison Hall has already been restored and is open to the public. If you know me, I follow these developments pretty closely, and I had seen news and some photos regarding the start of the restoration process of the latter, but I never really expected that it’d be completed so quickly!

I’m happy to report that I’m here with yet another article introducing one of the nation’s newest fully restored Martial Arts Hall - Before I start though, I have to give some mad props to the Hsinchu City Government, which did an amazing job restoring this historic building. Likewise, I have to give them credit for what I consider to be the most informative and comprehensive descriptions of the history and the architecture of the building that I’ve seen. In most cases, I’d find myself stuck in the library of the national archives doing extensive research on the architectural specifics of these buildings, but almost all of the information that anyone needs to learn about the hall is provided within, which is great! 

I don’t consider myself easily impressed given that over the years I’ve observed despite a willingness on the part of the government to spend a bunch of money restoring these buildings, rarely is the due diligence ever done when it comes to telling their story properly. The Hsinchu City Government though has gone above and beyond - and that is something that has observably become the norm as of late as the Hsinchu Aqueduct (新竹街水道取水口), features similarly thorough informative displays.

With the massive Hsinchu Public Hall (新竹公會堂) set to reopen in the near future, I find myself quite optimistic for what the city will do with the space, especially since Japanese-era buildings of its size and importance are about as rare as the Martial Arts Halls.

It seems like there are few places in Taiwan that are doing as well as Hsinchu with regard to its preservation of historic buildings, so I’m sure I’ll be visiting the city quite often in the coming months and years!  

Hsinchu Prison Martial Arts Hall (新竹少年刑務所演武場)

In 1900 (明治33年), construction on Martial Arts Halls in Taiwan started with the first in Taipei (臺北州/たいほくしゅう), Taichung (臺中廳/たいちゅうちょう) and Tainan (臺南廳/たいなんちょう) initially meant to assist in the training of the local police in martial arts. It wasn’t until after the “Taiwan Butokuden Branch of the Dai Nippon Butoku Kai” (大日本武德會臺灣支部) was established in 1906 however that we started to see these Martial Arts Halls popping up all over the island.

By 1920 (大正9年), the organization was given a directive from the central government to start construction on Martial Arts Halls in each of Taiwan’s prefectures culminating in the eventual construction of more than two-hundred across the Island over the next two decades.

In Taiwan, the halls initially served the purpose of training the police, military and prison guards in Japanese martial arts disciplines. Later, they opened up to the general public in an attempt to train the citizens of Taiwan in Japanese martial arts, as well as instilling "Japanese Spirit," better known as Yamato-damashii (大和魂).

While they weren’t considered civic buildings, the Martial Arts Halls were often constructed in strategic locations within cities and towns close to the governing district. This helped the government to better pass down directives to the organization in addition to ensuring that funding was available to help promote Martial Arts disciplines and Japanese cultural values. 

As I introduced in my guide to Taiwan’s Martial Art Halls, more than two-hundred of these buildings were constructed across the island, varying in size based on their status within the  hierarchy of the organization. Of that total, eleven were classified as “Prison Branches” (刑務所), where staff of the prisons around the island were trained in Martial Arts and self-defense techniques. 

Keeping in mind that the Prison Branches were the rarest of the bunch, its pretty cool that a handful of them continue to exist today, namely the Taichung Martial Arts Hall (臺中刑務所演武場), the yet to be restored Tainan Prison Martial Arts Hall (臺南刑務所演武場) and the former Shinchiku Prefecture Juvenile Prison Martial Arts Hall (新竹少年刑務所演武場).

To introduce the history of this nearly one hundred year old building, we first have to talk about the reason for which it was constructed, given that it was just a small piece of the Shinchiku Juvenile Prison (新竹少年刑務所 / しんちくしょうねんけいむしょ), the first of its kind in Taiwan.

Officially established on October 7th, 1926 (昭和元年), the detention centre had a maximum capacity of just over five-hundred inmates, and came fully equipped with recreational facilities, a Shinto Shrine, a church, staff housing (just outside of the walls), and of course the Martial Arts Hall. That being said, official records from the Japanese-era state that even though the facility was where all of Taiwan’s juvenile criminals were imprisoned, there were never more than 350 inmates at any given time.

The history of the prison facility however dates back several decades prior as it was originally the Hsinchu Branch of the Taipei Prison (台北監獄署新竹支署), which opened in 1896 (明知29年). Over next few decades the facility was renamed several times, while also expanding with the construction of new buildings while the colonial government was busy refining Taiwan’s territorial boundaries and civil system. By 1923, the prison was one of the four largest on the island, but was still re-designated three years later into Taiwan’s first Juvenile Penitentiary.

Although it has been repaired, expanded and rebuilt on several occasions, the prison has stayed in continuous operation for 130 years, becoming the Hsinchu Prison (新竹監獄) after the end of the Second World War until now.

As part of the continued expansion of the prison and the facilities that surrounded it, a Martial Arts Hall was constructed within the community of employee housing along the eastern wall. Completed in 1935 (昭和10年), the hall served as a space to assist the employees of the prison in the art of self defense.

As we’ve seen with some of the other Martial Arts Halls around the country, the official name of the hall was a long and convoluted one, officially known as the ‘Hsinchu Juvenile Prison Martial Arts Dojo’ (新竹少年刑務所演武場 / しんちくしょうねんけいむしょえんぶじょう).

While still falling under the operational control of the (equally convoluted) “Taiwan Budoken Branch of the Dai Nippon Butoku Kai” (大日本武德會臺灣支部), this particular hall was regarded as an “enbujo” (演武場 / えんぶじょう), or a “Martial Arts Performance Centre” rather than a full-fledged “Budokuden” (武德殿 / ぶとくでん) given that the Hsinchu Martial Arts Hall (新竹武德殿) was located a short distance away.

For those who can’t differentiate between the Chinese characters, it can be a bit confusing given that the majority of Taiwan’s remaining Martial Arts Halls are referred to in Japanese as “Butokuden”.

Link: The Hsinchu Prison Butokuden and Dormitories (新竹演武場) Over The City

It was common however during the Japanese-era to refer to also use either “Budojo” (武道場), “Renbukan” (練武館) or “Enbujo” (演武場) to refer to the halls. Essentially, the naming of the halls, or at least their official designation was part of a formula used to differentiate their structural hierarchy within the organization.  

While the ‘enbujo’ variety tended to be smaller, the key thing to remember is that in their official names you’d still find the words “Butoku Kai” (武德會) preceding the rest of the name - In this case, this hall would have been officially referred to as a “Butoku Kai Enbujo”  (武德會演武場 / ぶとくかいえんぶじょう).

I realize this all might seem a bit confusing, but the Japanese are known for strict adherence to organizational hierarchy, which if you’re able to figure out actually makes sense.

Despite its size, the Martial Arts Hall offered the same classes that you’d find at any of the others around Taiwan with one side of the building reserved for Judo (柔道), and the other for Kendo (劍道). The exterior of the building likewise would have had a space for practicing Kyudo (弓道), otherwise known as Japanese archery.

Suffice to say, the Martial Arts Hall was constructed only a decade prior to the end of the colonial era, so in 1945, when the Japanese relinquished control of Taiwan under the terms of their surrender, the hall ceased being used for its original purpose. After the war, the Chinese Nationalists used it for housing for prison staff as there was a housing crisis caused by the millions of refugees who fled to Taiwan with the incoming regime.

To meet the needs of the residents of the building, alterations were made to its original design over the years making it a shadow of its former self some hideous modern additions that covered up almost all of its architectural design. Suffice to say, the building and most of the dorms that surround the prison were eventually abandoned as they aged, and the residents found more comfortable accommodations elsewhere. 

The Martial Arts Hall was officially registered as a Hsinchu City Protected Heritage Building (市定古蹟) on July 26th, 2012, which by law meant that plans would have to be drawn up to have the building restored.

It ended up taking a few years, but restoration on the building started in the summer of 2018.

Then, after a several year-long restoration project, the Martial Arts Hall officially reopened to the public on November 11th, 2021, a little over three years after the project started. 

Before I move on to introducing the architectural design of the Martial Arts Hall, I’ll provide a brief timeline of events in order to give you a better idea of its history: 

Martial Arts Hall Timeline

  • 1895 (明治28年) - Japan takes control of Taiwan and starts its occupation of the island. 

  • 1896 (明治29年) - The Hsinchu Branch of the Taipei Prison (台北縣新竹監獄署) is established. 

  • 1900 (明治33年) - Taiwan’s first Martial Arts Halls are constructed in Taipei, Taichung and Tainan.

  • 1923 (明治30年) - The Prison is renamed “Hsinchu Prison” (新竹刑務所) 

  • 1926 (昭和元年) - The Hsinchu Juvenile Prison (新竹少年刑務所) is officially established. 

  • 1935 (昭和10年) - The Juvenile Prison Martial Arts Hall (新竹少年刑務所演武場) is established.

  • 1945 (民國34年) - Japan surrenders to the allies and control of of Taiwan is given to the ROC.

  • 1945 (民國34年) - The Juvenile Prison is officially renamed Hsinchu Prison (新竹監獄)

  • 1945 - 2012 - The Martial Arts Hall is used as a dormitory for Prison employees (監獄員工宿舍). 

  • 2012 (民國101年) - The Martial Arts Hall is registered as a protected historic building (市定古蹟). 

  • 2018 (民國107年) - Restoration on the Martial Halls Hall begins.

  • 2020 (民國109年) - Restoration on the hall is officially completed.    

  • 2021 (民國110年) - The Martial Arts Hall officially reopens as a tourist attraction. 

Architectural Design

As I mentioned above, this Martial Arts Hall can be considered one of the most ‘complete’ of the few that remain in Taiwan today, given that both the main section of the hall and the annex remain intact. However, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that in recent years, there has been more emphasis put into ensuring that the larger halls around the country are restored in a way they are as ‘complete’ as this one.

To explain what I mean, when these Martial Arts Halls were originally constructed during the Japanese era, they almost always included an annex building, used as an administrative and living space. Additionally, you were also likely to find space on the exterior of the building reserved for traditional Japanese archery.

When the halls started being restored, almost all of the attention was placed solely on the main hall, leaving the rest of the facility more or less incomplete.

Thankfully, due to the popularity of the Martial Arts Halls as tourist attractions, and the potential for the annex to be used as an exhibition space, or a spot that could be rented out, they’ve started to make their reappearance next to some of the already restored halls. Most recently, the Daxi Martial Arts Hall (大溪武德殿), the Qishan Martial Arts Hall (旗山武德殿), the Changhua Martial Arts Hall (彰化武德殿) and the Taichung Prison Martial Arts Hall (臺中刑務所演武場) are a few examples where the annex was added after the restoration of the main hall.

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

One of the main differences between the halls mentioned above and this particular hall is that the annex building was connected directly to the rest of the building, and was restored simultaneously making it a complete experience. Yet another reason for my high level of praise for the building. 

Officially, the Martial Arts is split into three ‘sections’, but architecturally-speaking it’s much easier to just say its split into two given the difference in the materials used to construct each side.

The Martial Arts side was constructed with a mixture of brick, wood and reinforced concrete, one of the defining characteristics of the period when it was built. The annex side on the other hand was constructed with traditional Japanese architecture in mind in that it was constructed primarily of wood. 

Keeping in mind that this is inherently a ‘east-west fusion’ style building, there are some obvious design differences between the two sections, but it’s important to first note where they are the same: To start, both sections are elevated off of the ground on a concrete base. One of the things that Japanese architects learned quickly upon arrival in Taiwan was that the island’s termites are a feisty bunch so in order to preserve the structural integrity and the longevity of buildings, it was common for all of them to be elevated off the ground. However, given that this is a Martial Arts Hall, the elevation is a bit higher than ordinary buildings as the it features a network of springs beneath the floor allowing for some spring in your step.

This is yet another area where the restoration of the hall shines as it is (currently) one of two where you’ll still find springs beneath the floor, adding to the ‘completeness’ mentioned above.   

The next similarity is that both sides of the building were designed using the traditional Japanese Irimoya-zukuri (入母屋造 / いりもやづくり) architectural design. What this means is that the building makes use of a variation of the ‘hip-and-gable’ roof, and that the base of the building, known as the ‘moya’ (母屋) was constructed in a way that it is much smaller than the roof, but is able to support its weight. In this case, the roof, which isn’t nearly as grand in design as the Taichung Prison Martial Arts Hall only slightly eclipses the base. That being said, the subdued design of the roof doesn’t necessarily mean there isn’t a lot going on as it seamlessly ‘cuts’ from the higher section of the Martial Arts Hall to the lower annex section.

This where you’ll find the next important architectural similarity - The roof of the Martial Arts Hall and the annex was designed using the ubiquitous kirizuma-zukuri (妻造的樣式) style, which is one of the oldest and most commonly used designs in Japan. Translated simply as a “cut-out gable” roof, this style of design is one of the simplest of Japan’s various ‘hip-and-gable’ roofs.

The vast majority of the information you’ll find available about the Martial Hall’s architectural design mentions that the roof was constructed using traditional Japanese black tiles (日式黑瓦), but doesn’t really go much further in explaining the finer details of the roof. Fortunately, I’ve been at this for a while, so I’m able to provide a little more in terms of the design aspects of the roof where you’ll find the following as listed on the diagram below.   

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

  2. Munegawara (棟瓦 /むねがわら) - Ridge tiles used to cover the apex of the roof.

  3. Onigawara (鬼瓦/おにがわら) - Decorative roof tiles found at the ends of a main ridge.

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

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

  6. Sodegawara (袖瓦/そでがわら) - Cylindrical sleeve tiles

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

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

To describe it simply, a kirizuma-style roof has a section that ‘cuts’ out from the rest and faces outward like an open book (入), while the longer part is curved facing in the opposite direction.

In this specific case, if we think of the building as a single structure rather than one that is split in two, it is shaped somewhat like the letter “U”. The highest (and longest) section of the roof curves like an open book with the two ends acting as the ‘cut out’ sections. It then meets with the two branches that face in the opposite direction, which are also curved like an open book.  

Even though I mentioned above that the roof of this Martial Arts Hall isn’t as grand in comparison, it is still quite complicated in its architectural design and it’s 3D-like appearance. I recommend anyone who visits to walk around the entire perimeter of the building so that you can fully appreciate the complexity of its design. 

One thing you’ll want to keep in mind is that the black tiles mentioned had to be completely replaced with newer tiles, so the roof doesn’t as appear as ‘historic’ as it probably should.

You can find some very thorough displays featuring the original tiles within the annex building, which I highly recommend you take some time to enjoy.

Now, let’s talk about how the two parts of the building are different. 

Starting with the Martial Arts Hall side, it was constructed with a concrete base, bricks and reinforced concrete on the exterior and wood within the interior. The front facade of the building makes use of a fusion style of architectural design in that it features Western-style Art-Deco elements with the inclusion of a traditional Japanese-style kurumayose (車寄/くるまよせ) porch directly in the middle of the building.

The porch had to be completely rebuilt during the recent restoration process, and features a similarly designed kirizuma-style roof facing in the opposite direction of the roof above, adding to the three dimensional design of the building. This would have proven to be one of the most difficult aspects of the restoration project as the team would have had to consult nearly century-old blueprints to faithfully reconstruct the portico.

One of the design similarities that you’ll find on this building and others built during the Showa era are the wooden-panel glass windows that mix with the reinforced concrete on three sides of the building. With two of the large windows on each side of the porch on the front of the building as well as three on the eastern and western sides, the windows allow for a considerable amount of natural light in the building when the sun is up. 

Moving on to the interior of the building, the hall is split into two sections (hence the three buildings mentioned above) where half of the building was reserved as a space for Judo (柔道場) while the other half was reserved for Kendo (劍道場). Both sides of the building feature the same hardwood spring floor (彈簧地板) that allows the floor to better absorb the shock of people constantly being thrown around.

The interior space has a height of 270 centimeters in the main building with the total interior space listed as 206.2㎡. What that number unfortunately doesn’t tell us is the exact measurement of space reserved for each section of the building. Even though the Martial Arts Hall is relatively small in comparison to the others around Taiwan, the interior space of the main building remains quite spacious as it was always more or less a completely open space.

Working together with the windows on the three reinforced-concrete sides of the Martial Arts Hall, you’ll find another large windowed section on the side of the building directly opposite to the door. The wooden annex section of the building has two wings that face outward from the rest of hall separated by this space.

The smaller wing on the right is where the restrooms were located, while the larger side on the left was the administrative and living space for those who worked at the hall.  As you pass through the Martial Arts Area you’ll find another door to your left that would have served as the main entrance for those working or living there. Directly next to that porch area you’ll find two rooms with tatami mats on the floor.

The first of the rooms you’ll find in the annex section would have served as a living space, while the room next to that features a “tokonoma” (床の間/とこのま), indicating that it was a sleeping space. These days you’ll find some pretty awesome informative displays about the history and architectural design of the building in these rooms.

As far as I’m concerned, the star of this section is the beautiful ‘engawa’ (緣側/えんがわ) that reaches around the building in what seems like an almost 90 degree angle. Essentially a glass-covered panel with sliding doors, the space is one that absolutely glows in the afternoon sun, and would have made living in the hall an enjoyable experience, especially with the breeze flowing through the veranda when the sliding doors were open.

On a recent visit to the Qidong Dorms in Taipei, I found myself engaged in a long conversation with a volunteer working there, who is somewhat of an expert in Taiwan’s Japanese-era architecture. One of the things that he mentioned that stuck with me was how these 90 degree glass paneled verandas were something that (at the time) you’d only find here in Taiwan given that there were some variations on traditional Japanese architectural design in the colony. While I’m unsure that it is still the case back in Japan, these ‘L’ shaped glass-covered walls were pretty cool and the natural light that they allowed into the building.

Although, I can’t really imagine the terror you would have felt when a typhoon was rolling through town.

Getting There

 

Address: #18-20 Guangzhou Street, Alley #20, Hsinchu City (新竹市北區廣州街20巷20號)

GPS: 24.804621, 120.960528

Hours: Tuesday - Sunday from 9:00am to 17:00pm. 

Car / Scooter

As always, if you’re driving a car or scooter, I recommend copying the address provided above into your GPS or your Google Maps to map out the route most suitable for you. If you’re in Hsinchu, it shouldn’t take you much time to arrive at the hall given that it is located just outside the historic downtown core of the city.

If you’re driving a car, you should be able to find roadside parking nearby on Beida Road (北大路), but you may have to circle around to find a space. Unfortunately, paid parking lots are somewhat of a distance away, so if you find yourself searching for a spot you might just want to go to one of the paid spaces near the jail.

If you’re driving a scooter on the other hand, you can park directly across the street, or in any of the designated scooter parking spaces nearby. You could even park in the alley directly across from the main entrance to the hall if you’re visiting on a day when there aren’t many tourists.

Bus

With a bus stop located directly across the street from the Martial Arts Hall, getting there by bus is one of your best options if you find yourself in town without access to your own means of transportation.

From the Hsinchu Railway Station, you can conveniently take either Bus #10, or Bus #23 to the hall, getting off at the aptly named Service Centre Bus Stop (服務中心站).

Click on the links provided above to access time tables for each of the bus routes.

YouBike

Another excellent way to get around Hsinchu is to enjoy the city on one of the YouBikes that are available for rent. If you arrive in town on the train, you can easily grab a Youbike near the station and explore all that the historic city has to offer at your own leisure.

You may have heard that Hsinchu is somewhat notorious for its chaotic traffic, but riding a Youbike around town is actually quite comfortable thanks to the wide roads.

From the train station, it’s a 1.4km ride to the Martial Arts Hall riding along Linsen Road (林森路) and Shengli Road (勝利路), both of which are large bike friendly roads. There are a number of locations where you’ll probably want to stop along the way, so I recommend using Google Maps on your phone to map out your route so you don’t get lost.

Trust me, Hsinchu is a city where you can easily find yourself losing your way while exploring the historic streets. That’s not entirely a bad thing though.

If you’ve been following all of the work I’ve done on the Martial Arts Halls of Taiwan over the past few years, it should be fairly obvious from this article that I’m quite pleased with the addition of this particular hall the collection. Not only was its restoration and subsequent re-opening somewhat unexpected, I have to give the Hsinchu City Government some massive props for the amazing restoration job as well as the effort put into providing informative and educational materials about the history of the hall, the juvenile prison and the city during the Japanese-era.

What amazed me most were the detailed and graphic heavy descriptions of the architectural design of the hall, something that I often have to spend quite a bit of time researching.

Very few of the other remaining Martial Arts Halls around the country today offer even a fraction of the detailed historic information as this one, so if I’m this impressed, I’m sure others may also appreciate the hard work put into making this Martial Arts Hall a great spot to visit!

References

  1. 新竹少年刑務所演武場 (Wiki)

  2. 新竹少年刑務所 (Wiki)

  3. 臺灣的武德殿 (Wiki)

  4. 新竹州 | Shinchiku Prefecture (Wiki)

  5. 台灣武德殿發展之研究 (黃馨慧)

  6. 市定古蹟「新竹少年刑務所演武場」 修繕動工 (自由時報)

  7. 新竹監獄化身藝文空間!「新竹少年刑務所演武場」開館,一窺日治時期古蹟木構磚造建築特色 (Shopping Design)

  8. 新竹少年刑務所演武場 (國家文化資產網)

  9. 新竹少年刑務所演武場 (Path of Sunrise)

  10. 新竹日治時代監獄變身藝文空間!走進演武場的前世今生 (LaVie)

  11. 新竹武德殿 (The Memory of Hsinchu City)

  12. The Martial Arts Halls of Taiwan


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)