Travel

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)


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)


Agenna Shipyard Relics (阿根納造船廠遺址)

Today, I’m going to introduce a historic shipyard in northern Taiwan that has been abandoned for quite some time - and was for quite a while been a favorite for local urbex photographers.

In recent years, this ‘secret’ location (which has been hiding in plain sight) came to the attention of the world at large, and has arguably become the most popular abandoned site in the entire country. It’s transformation from an obscure property into an overnight social media sensation however has been interesting to watch while it has also become somewhat of a contentious issue for the local government, given that there are some serious safety concerns involved.

It’s safe to say that a number of factors contributed to turning this ruin into a social media sensation, but what I find most interesting is that in a city that features a long list of beautiful tourist attractions - this dilapidated structure has the ability to attract a wide range of visitors ranging from local Instagram celebrities to tour buses full of senior citizens. 

It has also helped to promote the Urban Exploration hobby, with a growing community of local explorers, who have started out here and gone on to discover some very photogenic ruins across the country!

Nevertheless, with the shipyard’s newfound popularity as a tourist attraction, you’d think that there would be a multitude of resources available with information about its historical significance, yet even though you can find numerous Chinese-language articles about it, few of them feature little more than basic facts.

While I’d like to help alleviate that problem with this article, I first have to give some major props to my friend and fellow blogger, Alexander Synaptic, who was one of the first people (in any language) to write extensively about the shipyard with an article (linked below) that I strongly recommend you take some time to read.

I highly doubt that my attempt could ever be as good as his article, but I’ll do my best!

Link: Agenna Shipyard 阿根納造船廠 (Spectral Codex)

Below, I’ll provide an introduction to the history of the shipyard, and its current predicament and conclude by providing some info about getting to the area, which is something I rarely do when it comes to my urbex-related posts. Although, I’m not really sure if this one can really be considered urban exploration anymore.

Feel free to debate that one amongst yourselves!  

The Agenna Shipyard Ruins (阿根納造船廠遺址)

Located within Keelung’s Zhengbin Fishery Harbor (正濱漁港), just next to the bridge that crosses the Bachimen Channel (八尺門海峽) to Peace Island (和平島), the Agenna Shipyard was constructed on a historically significant plot of land that dates back as far as the Qing Dynasty.

Predating the shipyard by almost a century, the development of the shoreline along the channel is somewhat unclear, but archaeological evidence suggests that industrial activity started in the area decades prior to the arrival of the Japanese in Taiwan in the late 1800s.

Looking at maps of the area from the 1920s however, we can see that a branch railway was constructed to transport coal from nearby mines to the first iteration of a port, which shipped the coal back to Japan. 

As the amount of shipping traffic increased at the primary port of Keelung, the colonial government planned to have the commercial and fishery industries split between two ports with the “inner" port of Keelung servicing commercial traffic, and a newly re-developed “outer” port area near (what was then known as) the ‘Hasshaku-mon Channel’ becoming the newly established 'Keelung Fishery Port’ (基隆漁港 / きいるんきーるん) in 1935, which at the time was Taiwan’s largest fishery port having enough space to dock four hundred boats in addition to processing facilities and a market along the shoreline. 

Note: Today, several of the larger buildings constructed during in the 1930s for the fishery port are in the process of being restored and re-opened to the public as tourist attractions, making this area of the city an attractive one that will provide an excellent experience for tourists. 

While construction on the fishery port was taking place, the Nippon Mining Company (日本礦業株式會社) was simultaneously in the process of constructing a twelve kilometer-long branch railway, which became known as the ‘Kinkaseki Branch Line’ (金瓜石線 / きんかせきせん). The narrow-gauge line stretched from Suinando Station (水湳洞駅 / すいなんどうえき) to Hasshaku-mon Station (八尺門駅 / はしゃくもんえき), running along the northern shoreline transporting gold and copper ore to the harbor, where it was loaded onto barges to be sent across the harbor and then back to Japan. 

The significance of the branch railway, especially with regard to this article, is essentially because Hasshaku-mon Station was strategically located next to where the shipyard would eventually constructed. During the Japanese-era, the land was used as an ore dock, creating the first iteration of a dock in this location.

Interestingly, the Japanese authorities had some lofty development plans for the area, especially with regard to Sharyo-to (社寮島 / しゃりょうとう), the island we know today as Peace Island (和平島), with maps from the 1930s showing how the area would have been developed. Coincidentally, the island we know today was originally a collection of three islands, Sharyō-to (社寮島), Nakayamako-tō (中山子島), Okeban-sho (桶盤嶼).

If you look at the historic map provided above, you can see the red lines that indicate planned development, which would have artificially connected two of the islands. In the decades since, it’s apparent that those plans carried over with the new regime as it is currently a single island. 

When the Japanese-era ended in 1945, and the Chinese Nationalists took control of Taiwan, the newly established regime sought to continue to capitalize on the island’s natural resources, with the assistance of the already established infrastructure. Yet just over a decade or two of Chinese Nationalist control, almost everything of value had already been taken from the ground and with the mines depleted, the branch railway became unnecessary with the section between Badouzi Station (八斗子車站) and Bachimen Station (八尺門車站) suspended. 

With service on the branch railway officially coming to an end on August 26th, 1962 (民國52年), the ore dock and the space that Hasshaku-mon-turned-Bachimen Station occupied was suddenly freed up, and the Taiwan Metals Mining Company (臺灣金屬鑛業股份有限公司) lost interest in maintaining the property. 

The solution to their problem came a few short years later when in 1966 (民國55年), Thomas Hsueh (薛國航), an US educated engineer and entrepreneur, leased the land and opened the ‘Argonaut Shipbuilding Company’ (阿根納造船廠). Specializing in the construction of luxury yachts, Hsueh made use of his network of business contacts in America, and Taiwan’s cheap and skilled labor to earn a fortune with the shipyard.

Working as a sub-contractor for the Florida-based Chris Craft Industries, the shipyard specialized in the construction of smaller pleasure-craft, and was able to quickly adapt to Chris Craft’s transition to constructing ships with fiberglass in the 1970s and 1980s.

Note: There is a bit of confusion with the naming of the site, so let me take a minute to explain: The name we currently use for the site, “Agenna Shipyard” is simply the romanization of the Chinese-language name. More specifically the pinyin is ‘ā gēn nà zào chuán chǎng’ (阿根納造船廠). Does that name have any meaning in Chinese? No, not really. The name was actually a direct transliteration of the English word “Argonaut” into Chinese. The Taiwanese-American owner of the business essentially required an official Chinese-language name to register the company here in Taiwan, as well as an English name to register the company in the USA. This is a common business practice for multi-national corporations in Taiwan.

Architectural Layout of the Shipyard

Working primarily with Chris-Craft since its inception, the shipyard constructed several of the company’s flagship yachts for a number of years. Unfortunately, the fate of the Argonaut Corporation, and the shipyard were tied too close to that of Chris-Craft back in the USA. So, when economic recession hit the US in the late 1970s and global sales declined, that company was forced to restructure, with its assets and trademarks sold to another investment group in 1981. 

Link: Chris-Craft Corporation (Wiki)

Faced with a loss of its most important partner, and coupled with a worldwide economic downturn, the Argonaut Corporation was left frantically searching for new partners. Ultimately, the company’s poor management structure served as the final nail in its coffin, and after a couple of years of inactivity it closed its doors completely in 1987 (民國76年).

With the end of Argonaut’s business operations, the land once again became a burden to the Taiwan Metals Mining Company, which had also fallen on hard times and was going through bankruptcy in the late 1980s. With most of that company’s assets sold off to pay off their creditors, what little remained of the company was merged with the prosperous Taiwan Sugar Corporation (台灣糖業公司), the current owner of the property.

In the four decades since, the land has been leased to a number of businesses, each of which didn’t end up last very long. Then, in 2008 (民國97年), the land was put on a 20 year lease to a local industrial company (阿諾瑪實業公司), which made national headlines when they did what many other corporations around the country had done in the past, and rolled up onto the property with a bunch of construction equipment and started an illegal demolition of the shipyard.

Link: Agenna Shipyard demolished for safety, firm says (Taipei Times)

The sudden demolition of the historic property was widely condemned, with the mayor of Keelung threatening hefty fines for failing to secure construction permits. The Keelung City Council likewise moved quickly to have the site granted heritage status under the Cultural Heritage Preservation Act (文化資產之保存), which was passed by the Taiwanese legislature that same year.

Unfortunately, by the time demolition was halted, considerable damage had been done to the shipyard, which is one of the reasons why the site is considered to be unstable and unsafe for the amount of people visiting on any given weekend. 

The future of the historic shipyard remains unclear with the Keelung City Government hoping to eventually have it restored, but given that the land remains is the property of the Taiwan Sugar Corporation, there are a number of legal matters to be resolved before anything can be done. The shipyard has lingered in its current condition for a number of years and is essentially one or two large earthquakes from falling over on its own.

As I mentioned earlier, there were a number of factors that contributed to the shipyard becoming Taiwan’s most widely-visited and most popular abandoned ruin. One of those factors was the widespread media attention (and condemnation) that came as a result of the short-lived demolition of the ruins. What was probably the number one factor in bringing the shipyard to the attention of the public at large was when Captain America himself, Chris Evans filmed a trailer for one of the Call of Duty games on-site in 2014.

All it took after that were some clever Instagram posts to help the ruin achieve overnight popularity. 

Link: Actor Chris Evans spotted in Taiwan filming commercial at Keelung Shipyard (ICRT) 

To conclude, it’s important to remind readers that a visit to the area doesn’t have to be just to see the abandoned shipyard - While there you can also enjoy the view of the equally Insta-famous rainbow colored buildings at Zhengbin Harbor (正濱港口彩色屋). You could also visit the historic Sheliao East Fort (社寮東砲台), Peace Island Coastal Park (和平島海角樂園), and many of the other tourist attractions within the downtown core of Keelung City. Don’t make a trip to the area just to visit the shipyard, make sure you enjoy some of the city’s other excellent tourist spots! 

Getting There

 

Address: Lane #116 Zhengbin Road, Keelung City (基隆市中正區正濱路116巷)

GPS: 25.153660, 121.771810

Something I rarely do when I write about urbex-related ruins is provide an address or a location.

With this one, there isn’t much point in not sharing that info with you - The shipyard has become so popular that there is a spot marking its location on Google Maps, making it relatively easy to find on your own.

Located next to Keelung’s Zhengbin Harbor (正濱港口), just before you cross the bridge to Peace Island (和平島), the shipyard is a relatively easy one to reach, but is a bit of distance from the city’s railway station.

This means that if you don’t have access to a car or a scooter you’ll have to make use of public transportation. It’s important to note that the narrow road along the harbor is home not only to the shipyard, but also the popular Zhengbin Harbor Rainbow Buildings (正濱港口彩色屋), and acts as the entrance to the Peace Island Coastal Park (和平島海角樂園). The area can be quite busy on the weekends and during national holidays. 

With that in mind, I’ll preface this by letting you know if you’re driving a car, you’re likely going to have some trouble finding parking near the harbor - The very narrow road that leads you to the harbor and across the bridge to Peace Island wasn’t ever set up with cars and buses full of tourists, so I’d highly recommend you find somewhere to park well before you arrive at the harbor. 

Of course, it’s not impossible to find a spot when you arrive, so if you are traveling to the area and are feeling brave, you can turn into the harbor, and then make another turn on Lane #116 where the shipyard is located and attempt to find a roadside parking space near the Keelung City Indigenous Cultural Hall (基隆市原住民文化會館), a short walk past the shipyard. Given that there are a number of buses that stop at the harbor, the traffic situation can be quite precarious meaning that if you turn in, you may find yourself stuck in a line of traffic that moves very slowly.

If on the other hand you’re in the area with a scooter, you shouldn’t have too much trouble finding a spot on the side of the road near the shipyard where you can park for a short time.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, it’s time to talk about public transportation. 

Once again, I’m going to preface this by saying that I love Keelung, it’s one of my favorite cities to visit in Taiwan - It is however a far cry from what most tourists would consider a convenient place to visit.

The traffic in the downtown core of the city is often congested, and unlike other major Taiwanese towns and cities, you (currently) don’t have access to YouBikes, GoShare, WeMo, etc.

If you have a drivers license, I highly recommend renting a scooter for the day near the train station. If not, you’ll be stuck relying on public transportation, which isn’t very efficient or reliable.

Below, you’ll find a list of bus routes that’ll get you to Zhengbin Harbor. I’ll provide links to each of the buses so that you can click on them to find their route map and schedules: 

Zhengbin Harbor Heping Bridge Bus Stop (和平橋頭站)

Located next to the harbor, you’ll simply get off the bus at the station before crossing the bridge to Peace Island and walk up Lane #116 to find the shipyard. 

  • Keelung Bus #101 (Peace Island 和平島)

  • Keelung Bus #102 (Peace Island 和平島)

  • Keelung Bus #109 (Tianxian Temple 天顯宮)

  • Keelung Bus #205 (Peace Island 中信 - 和平島)

Zhongzheng - Zhengbin Intersection Bus Stop (中正路正濱路口站)

Located along an important road between Keelung and Badouzi, getting off at this stop requires you to walk into the harbor area and then up Lane #116 to the shipyard. The distance between this bus stop and the one above is only about a two minute walk, but not all buses turn into the harbor area. 

  • Keelung Bus #103 (Badouzi 八斗子)

  • Keelung Bus #104 (Xinfeng Street 新豐街)

  • Keelung Bus #108 (Chaojing Park 潮境公園)

  • Taipei Bus #791 (Guojia New Village to Fulong 國家新城 - 福隆)

  • Keelung Bus #1051 (Rueifang to Guojia New Village 瑞芳─國家新城)

I can’t personally vouch as to whether or not you’ll be able to enter the former shipyard and explore the ruins as they’ve started preventing people from visiting. Whether or not this is constantly enforced, I’m not particularly sure. Still, you need to keep in mind that a visit to the shipyard might result in disappointment.

You can still view it from afar, but descending the old stairs to the old workshop area might not be an option.

If that’s the case, don’t worry too much. While in the area you’ll also be able to enjoy the beauty of the harbor as well as crossing the bridge over to Peace Island, which is pretty cool place to visit. 

As a historic structure, it would be nice to see the local government do something to fix the area up in order to keep the ruins available for the foreseeable future. That being said the structure would likely require quite a bit of public funds to clean up. Currently, its existence and popularity are an accident waiting to happen and an insurance nightmare for the city, so if its closed when you arrive, don’t be too surprised. 

There are an incredible number of abandoned structures throughout Taiwan, so if this kind of thing interests you, I suggest you start exploring and finding things on your own! It’s actually surprisingly easy to find some really cool places to visit. Stay safe if you do, and most importantly remember to keep these places to yourself, otherwise they might end up like the shipyard. 

To conclude, I’m going to doing something I rarely ever do, show a picture of myself striking a pose at the ruin.

Yours truly.