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)


The Coastal Railway Five Treasures (海線五寶)

I’ve spent a considerable amount of time as of late making my way up and down Taiwan’s Western Coast Railway visiting a handful of historic railway stations, taking photos, and then researching and writing about them. Many of you might wonder why I spend so much of my time visiting a bunch of old train stations, but if you’ve read any of my articles about them, you probably have your answer.

The reason I’ve written about a select group of them is because they’re going to be celebrating their centennial year of operation this year (2022), and with so little information about them available in English, I figured it was a good time to tell their story. Even though I realize that a bunch of one hundred year old train stations isn’t all that exciting for most people, it is a tremendously rare thing for buildings of this nature to have lasted so long in Taiwan, and even rarer to find them still in operation today. 

In many ways, Taiwan’s rapid modern development has been great for the people of this beautiful country, but for all of the pros, there are obviously going to be some cons; One of the unfortunate aspects of all of Taiwan’s growth over the last few decades is that much of the history of this beautiful island has been bulldozed in order to make way for modernity. If I were to focus only on the topic at hand, there were originally sixteen of these railway stations along the Coastal Railway Branch. Today, we celebrate the five that remain, but its important to keep in mind that seventy percent of them have already been lost to history.

Of course, in some cases the rapid population growth of communities around the country has necessitated such actions with these smaller stations unable to handle with the amount of passengers passing through on a daily basis, but its still a shame that so many of these important pieces of Taiwan’s history have disappeared over the years.

Fortunately, the five remaining stations that I’m going to briefly introduce below have been designated as protected heritage buildings, which should help to ensure that they will continue to exist for quite some time. 

Known locally among railway aficionados as the “Coastal Railway Five Treasures” (海鮮五寶), each of these wooden Japanese-era railway stations date back to 1922 and have been fortunate to last as long as they have mostly because they serve small communities where there was never really a huge growth in population.

That being said, even though they continue to remain in operation today, they are also considered by many as living museums given that they do an amazing job of putting local history on display. 

To tell their story, I will first have to introduce a bit about the history of the Coastal Railway where they’re located, and then I’ll follow by providing a brief introduction to each of the stations with links to their individual articles and a map where you’ll be able to find them. 

If you have any interest in Taiwan’s history, the Japanese-era, or the railway, it’s a pretty good year to take a bit of time to visit one, two or all of these beautiful train stations.

The Coastal Railway (海岸線 / かいがんせん)

The history of the railway in Taiwan dates back as far as 1891 (光緒17), when the last Qing governor, Liu Mingchuan (劉銘傳), attempted to have a route stretching from Keelung (基隆) to Hsinchu (新竹) constructed. The construction of the railway however came at too high of a cost, given that the Qing rulers cared very little about what was happening in Taiwan as well as the fact that they were contending with war (and revolution), so plans to have it extended any further were put on hold.

A few short years later in 1895 (明治28), the Japanese took control of Taiwan, and brought with them a team of skilled western-educated engineers tasked with developing proposals to have the already established railway repaired as well as to come up with suggestions for extending it all the way to the south and beyond.   

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

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

Amazingly, the more than four-hundred kilometer railway was completed in 1908 (明治41), and connected the north to the south with a transportation route for the first time ever. Taking just over a decade to complete, the railway would become instrumental in changing the landscape of Taiwan’s modern development, but was ultimately the key to the colonial regime’s master plan of ensuring that Taiwan’s precious natural resources would be able to be processed efficiently and sent back to Japan.

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

Note: Privatized Branch Lines refer to those used by companies engaged in the extraction or production of commodities such as timber, sugarcane, tobacco, coal, gold, etc.

However, after almost a decade of service, unforeseen circumstances in central Taiwan necessitated changes in the way that the western railway operated with issues arising due to typhoon and earthquake damage. More specifically, the Western Trunk railway in southern Miaoli had to pass through mountains and required climbing up a steep incline in sections before eventually crossing bridges across the Da’an (大安溪) and Da’jia Rivers (大甲溪). Due to these geographic limitations, and flaws in the original design, issues caused by natural disasters created a tremendous amount of traffic congestion, and periodic service outages when the railway and the bridges had to be repaired or rebuilt. 

Link: Long-Teng Bridge (龍騰斷橋)

To solve the problem of passenger and freight congestion, the team of railway engineers came up with a solution, known as the “Kaigan-sen” (かいがんせん / 海岸線), or the Coastal Railway Branch Line.

With construction of the branch line planned between Chikunangai (ちくなんがい / 竹南街) and Shoka (しょうかちょう / 彰化廳), or what we refer to today as Zhunan (竹南) and Changhua (彰化), the line would divert from the already existing railway and follow a route closer to the coast where the mountains could be avoided.

Link: Western Trunk Line | 縱貫線 (Wiki)

These plans however met with consternation from residents of Taichung who considered the Coastal Railway a dagger to the heart of the economic development and growth of the city. They figured that with the Taichung Port (located on the opposite side of the mountains) processing most of the freight coming from central Taiwan, the city would become a ghost town as the new line would shift development to the coastal side of the mountains

In spite of the protests taking place in Taichung, Governor General Akashi Motojirō (明石 元二郎/あかしもとじろう), who is remembered today as one of the most consequential governors of the Japanese era (thanks to his significant contributions to the economy and infrastructure development projects), held steadfast and made sure that construction on the Coastal Railway came to fruition.   

Note: Even though Governor General Akashi Motojiro held his post for just over a year before he fell ill and died, he is credited with the creation of the the Taiwan Power Company (臺灣電力株式會社), the massive Chianan Irrigation System (嘉南大圳), the Sun Moon Lake Hydroelectric Power Plant, and of course the Coastal Railway.

The Governor’s foresight and planning for the future helped to ensure that the island could continue its rapid development, and he used his political influence to ensure that funding was made available from the Japanese government back home. 

Link: Akashi Motojiro | 明石元二郎 (Wiki) 

Kiyomizu / Qingshui Station (清水車站)

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

What many people are unaware of though is that within a year of the project starting, the first section, known as the ‘Oda Branch Line’ (王田支線) between Oda Station (王田驛) and Kiyomizu Station (清水驛) in southern Taichung opened for service on December 25th, 1920 (大正10年). In today’s terms, the branch line essentially started at Chenggong Station (成功車站), and curved north with a final stop at Qingshui Station (清水車站), where freight could be more efficiently transported to Taichung Port.

To this day, the opening of the Oda Branch Line is interpreted by many as a method of appeasing the people of Taichung. who were weary of the Coastal Branch, but quickly took to the new line as it provided a means of visiting the nearby beach on the weekend. Similarly, it was also seen as a practical move to ensure that freight could be transported to the Taichung port on the western coast as soon as possible.

It would take another two years for the rest of the Coastal Line from Chikunan (竹南 / ちくなんぐん) to Shoka (彰化 / しょうかぐん) to be completed, with the official opening ceremonies taking place on October 11th, 1922 (大正12年) at Tsū-shou Station (通霄驛) in southern Miaoli.

Fortunately for the residents of Taichung, the economic disaster that was predicted never took place, and the city continued to grow thanks to the new line - Even better, the Coastal Railway connected communities in Miaoli and Taichung that had yet to have access to the railway, allowing them to grow as well as ensuring that their own agricultural products would be able to be shipped around the island, as well as being exported back to Japan, providing a tremendous economic opportunity for them.

This was especially true when it came to agricultural products such as watermelons from northern Miaoli, and the ‘Emperors Rice’ cultivated in southern Miaoli. That being said, there was also a considerable amount of coal, camphor, clay, bricks and other products originating from the sixteen stations along the railway. 

The sixteen stations along the Coastal Railway, including the two termini stations are as follows:

(Japanese-era romanization / kanji / hiragana / current name) 

  1. Chikunan Station (竹南驛/ちくなんえき) / Zhunan (竹南車站)

  2. Tanbunmizūmi Station (談文湖駅 / だんぶんみずうみえき) / Tanwen (談文車站)

  3. Oyamagashi Station (大山腳驛 / おうやま あしえき) / Dashan (大山車站)

  4. Kōryū Station (後龍驛/こうりゅうえき) / Houlong (後龍車站)

  5. Koshiryo Station (公司寮驛 /こうしりやう) / Longgang (龍港車站)

  6. Hakushaton Station (白沙屯驛/はくしゃとんえき) / Baishatun (白沙屯車站)

  7. Shin-ho Station (新埔驛 / しんほえき) / Xinpu (新埔車站)

  8. Tsū-shou Station (通霄驛 / つうしょうえき) / Tongxiao (通宵車站)

  9. Enri Station (苑裡驛 / えんりえき) / Yuanli (苑裡車站)

  10. Nichinan Station (日南驛 / にちなんえき) / Rinan (日南車站)

  11. Taikō Station (大甲驛/たいこうえき) / Dajia (大甲車站)

  12. Kōnan Station (甲南驛/こうなんえき) / Taichung Port (台中港車站)

  13. Kiyomizu Station (清水驛 / きよみずえき) / Qingshui (清水車站)

  14. Sharoku Station (沙鹿驛/しゃろくえき) / Shalu (沙鹿車站)

  15. Tatsui Station (龍井驛/たついえき) / Longjing (龍井車站)

  16. Daito Station (大肚驛 / だいとえき) / Dadu (大肚車站)

  17. Oiwake Station (追分驛 / おいわけえき) / Zhuifen (追分車站)

  18. Shōka Station (彰化驛/しょうかえき) / Changhua (彰化車站)

Interestingly, when the Japanese-era came to an end in 1945, and the Chinese Nationalists took control of Taiwan, the vast majority of the stations maintained the same names, save for a pronunciation change from Japanese to Mandarin. The only stations that went through a name change were the fifth station, Koshiryo Station (公司寮驛), which was changed to Longgang Station (龍港車站) and the twelfth station, Kōnan Station (甲南驛, which was changed to Taichung Port Station (台中港車站).

In the first case, the name change was a bit strange given that ‘Gongsiliao Fishing Harbor’ (後龍公司寮漁港), a short walk from the station uses the Mandarin pronunciation of the Japanese-era name.

The name “Longgang” is a abbreviation of ‘Houlong Fishery Harbor' (後龍漁港), which makes sense.

In the latter case, I don’t see much issue with the name change as the station is used primary for those wanting to reach the Port of Taichung, although the freight services that were once the bread and butter of the station have pretty much dried up as the Port of Taichung has grown and modernized.  

Over the past century, the Coastal Railway has remained an important route for passenger service and transporting freight, however when the Mountain Line (山線) was widened into a dual-track system, the amount of trains traveling along the line gradually reduced. These days, the Coastal Railway is most frequently serviced by Local Commuter Trains (區間車) that stop at each station along the route.

Like the Mountain Line however, the Coastal Railway has also gone through a similar period of modernization, including the widening of the tracks into a dual-track system, allowing more trains to travel back and forth as well as the electrification of the entire network.

Link: Qiding Railway Tunnels

Express trains are now able to their way through the Coastal Railway, but they only stop at larger stations such as Zhunan, Houlong, Tongxiao, Yuanli, Dajia, Qingshui, Shalu and Changhua.

Admittedly, when traveling or returning home, I’m always excited when I discover that my ticket displays that my train will travel along the coastal route, which is the more scenic of the two lines. I’m sure for many locals the feeling is mutual as you really get to enjoy Taiwan’s beauty along the route.  

Unfortunately as the railway has modernized over the past century, so have many of the stations along the line, which have been completely rebuilt, replacing the original stations constructed in the 1920s.

Today, only a handful of stations constructed during the Japanese-era remain in operation, known as the “Coastal Railway Five Treasures” (海線五寶), these historic stations (as well as the coastal railway itself) will celebrate their one-hundred year anniversary this year (2022).

Fortunately, as I mentioned earlier, now that they’ve all been designated as Protected Historic Properties by either the Taichung City Government or the Miaoli County Government, they will be preserved for future generations to enjoy - and will hopefully also remain in operation for quite some time.  

Below, I’ll briefly introduce each of those five stations and provide links to their individual articles for you to learn more about them.

Coastal Railway Five Treasures (海鮮五寶)

Known locally as the ‘Coastal Railway Five Treasures’ these five railway stations along the Coastal Railway between Zhunan and Changhua are historically significant for quite a few reasons, but most importantly are part of a select few stations around Taiwan that have remained in operation for the past one hundred years. 

Writing this article, I may be accused of political bias as there is a bit of contention with regard to the proper nickname used to describe the stations. 

When most people talk about them, its natural to refer to them as the “Coastal Railway Five Treasures”, but if you’re from the ‘sovereign nation’ of Miaoli-kuo (苗栗國), you’d probably prefer to refer to use the term “Miaoli Three Treasures” (苗栗三寶), completely disregarding the two stations located in Taichung. 

The notion that Miaoli is a country of its own is an interesting one, and I’m sure someone could (or probably already has) write an entire thesis on this running joke and how it originated. What I will say is that in the Chinese language, the term Three Treasures (三寶) is a much more auspicious and meaningful number than five, so linguistically it has more sway.

Note: “Three Treasures” (三寶) linguistically refers to “the Buddha”, “the Dharma”, and “the Sangha” (佛寶, 法寶, 僧寶) in Buddhism, also known as the “Three Jewels” or the “Three Roots” and is a term that has significant meaning throughout Asia. That being said, the term “三寶” (sān bǎo) has taken on a number of meanings ranging from Hong Kong style of bento box that features three kinds of meat (三寶飯), or an idiot driving on the road (馬路三寶), among others. 

But if you’re not from Miaoli, you should probably include the two stations in Taichung, because they deserve the same amount of respect!

All five of the so-called ‘treasures’ were (more or less) constructed with the exact same architectural design, although they may appear slightly different today, due to their age or modifications that may have taken place over the past century. One might argue that if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all, but that would be a bit misguided as there are some pretty important architectural differences found within the stations that you’ll be able to enjoy if you visit each of them. Similarly, the area that surrounds each of the stations has grown over the past century, so while exploring you’ll be able to get a feel of what the area was like a hundred years ago.

For railway enthusiasts, these stations are pretty important attractions, but for the rest of us, only a few of them might be attractive tourist destinations. Nevertheless, if you find yourself in the area, I highly recommend stopping by to check them out.

So, without further adieu, let me briefly introduce each of the Five Treasure: 

Tanwen Railway Station (談文車站)

Original name: Tanbunmizūmi Station (談文湖駅 / だんぶんみずうみえき)

Current name: Tanwen Station (談文車站)

Opened: October 11th, 1922

Traveling south of Hsinchu, Tanwen Station is the first of the five treasures that you’ll come across. The station is located in a strange spot just off of the coastal highway in Miaoli’s Zaoqiao Township (造橋鄉). The station is considered to be in the worst shape of the five treasures, but it is arguably also one of the most beautiful as it maintains its century-old appearance, and is most often a pretty quiet place to visit with only tourists visiting at various points throughout the week. 

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

GPS: 24.656440 120.858330

Dashan Railway Station (大山車站)

Original name: Oyamagashi Station (大山腳驛 / おうやま あしえき)

Current name: Dashan Station (大山車站)

Opened: October 11th, 1922

Traveling south past Tanwen Station, the next stop along the Coastal Railway is Dashan Station, one of the best preserved of the five treasures. Dashan is located within a small coastal community in Miaoli’s Houlong township (後龍鎮) with views of the coast within sight of the platform.

The community near the station is pretty quiet, like the station itself, but don’t let that fool you, Dashan Station was once an extremely important stop along the railway as it was where they’d load copious amounts of delicious watermelons onto the trains bound for port in Taichung. 

Address: #180 Mingshan Road. Houlong Township (苗栗縣後龍鎮大山里明山路180號)

GPS: 24.645670, 120.803770

Xinpu Railway Station (新埔車站)

Original name: Shin-ho Station (新埔驛 / しんほえき)

Current name: Xinpu Station (新埔車站)

Opened: October 11th, 1922

The sixth station along the coastal railway, Xinpu Station is probably the least busiest of the bunch as it serves a very small community. It’s also geographically the closest station to the coast on the western railway. The station remains in pretty good shape, but the space around it is quite cramped due to a lack of space and the widening of the railway into a dual-track system.

The area near the station these days is home to a pretty popular bicycling route that follows the coast of Miaoli and Hsinchu. Most of the tourism these days involves people getting off the train with their bicycles and heading back up north on a bike ride. 

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

GPS: 24.539850, 120.700350

Rinan Railway Station (日南車站)

Original name: Nichinan Station (日南驛 / にちなんえき)

Current name: Rinan Station (日南車站)

Opened: October 30th, 1922

Rinan Station is the ninth station along the line, and the first of the five treasures in Taichung. Located in the city’s Dajia District (大甲區), famed for its giant Mazu Temple, the station and the area around it has received a bit of attention over the years, allowing it to remain in pretty good shape.

The community that surrounds the station has similarly grown into a relatively busy place over the years, and having access to the railway helps to connect its residents to the rest of Taichung, making this the station one of the busiest of the five. 

Address: #8, Alley 140, Sec 2 Zhongshan Road. Dajia District, Taichung. (臺中市大甲區中山路二段140巷8號)

GPS: 24.378320, 120.653780

Zhuifen Railway Station (追分車站)

Original name: Oiwake Station (追分驛 / おいわけえき)

Current name: Zhuifen Station (追分車站)

Opened: October 11th, 1922

The sixteenth station on the Coastal Line, Zhuifen Station in southern Taichung City, located near the Dadu River where the railway crosses into Changhua is probably the most well-known of the five treasures.

The station is a popular attraction for tourists, students and young couples. Thanks to a play on words within the Chinese language, a ticket from Zhuifen Station (追分車站), and its next door neighbor Chenggong Station (成功車站) has become a local good luck charm with the “追分” and “成功” translating as ‘Making your dreams come true!’ (追分成功) or ‘successfully finding a partner for marriage’ (追婚成功).

The iconic trip has become just as well known in Taiwan as any Matchmaking God or God of Literature temple, and it is even mentioned in students history books. Zhuifen Station is located in an industrial area of Dadu District and there’s always some sort of construction going on nearby.

If you visit there will be volunteers there who are very happy to help introduce every special aspect of the station - certainly an experience that you won’t get at any of the other stations along the Coastal Railway.  

Address: #13 Zhuifen Street, Dadu District, Taichung City (臺中市大肚區追分街13號)

GPS: 24.120540, 120.570160

Getting There

On the map above, I’ve marked the locations of each of the five treasures in addition to the other stations along the Coastal Railway as well as some other railway-related locations in the area.

As with any of my articles about Taiwan’s historic train stations, if you ask me how to get there, it should be pretty obvious that I’m going to recommend that you take the train. The railway in Taiwan is one of the most convenient ways to travel, and if you’ve set out to visit a train station, why would you take another method of transportation?

I’ve listed the address and the GPS coordinates for each of the five treasures above, but if you’d prefer greater detail on how to get to each of the stations, I recommend clicking on the individual links where you’ll find a more detailed description.

Finally, if you’re asking for recommendations for the best method to visit the stations, I have a few opinions on the subject: I’d argue that traveling to all five of them in a single day is a bit excessive, especially since there is so much to see and do in the areas around the stations. Instead, I recommend splitting the trip in two and checking out the three in Miaoli on one excursion, and the two in Taichung on another day.

The great thing about both Miaoli and Taichung is that there is quite a bit to see and do, so if you’re in either area, you probably don’t want to spend the entire day chasing trains. 

If you don’t really care and insist on visiting all five in a single day, I recommend you take the High Speed Rail from wherever you are to Taichung (高鐵台中站) where you’ll transfer to Taiwan Railway’s Xinwuri Station (新烏日車站), which is coincidentally in the same building.

From there, Zhuifen Station is only two stops away and then you can make your way back up north along the Coastal Line stopping at Rinan, Xinpu, Dashan and Tanwen before heading back to Hsinchu.

If on the other hand you’re traveling from the south instead of the north, I recommend taking the train to Zhunan Station (竹南車站) and from there transferring to a southbound train on the Coastal Line.

Either way you’ll get to visit each of the stations while making your way back to where you’ve started. 


Kishu An (紀州庵文學森林)

When we were still living in a world where we were able to travel freely, Taiwan and Japan shared a pretty amazing two-way relationship with a very high percentage of tourists from each nation visiting the other. For the tourists of both nations, a flight to either Japan or Taiwan is a short one, but upon arrival there’s this familiar feeling that you find yourself among friends, which is a pretty great way to travel. 

Given the size difference between the two nations, there is obviously a lot more for Taiwanese tourists to do when visiting Japan, but for the Japanese tourists visiting Taiwan, there’s a high level of respect for Taiwan’s natural beauty, traditional culture, cuisine and the many similarities that the two nations share.

That being said, Taiwan’s amazing food scene has always been overshadowed by its eastern neighbor as Japanese cuisine is one of the stand outs on the map of the world’s best cuisines. Interestingly though, when Japanese tourists travel to Taiwan they have a bit of a secret that they don’t really share with others.

They’re often happiest when they’re eating Japanese food.

Taiwan is quite unique as it is one of the few places in the world where you’re able to find Japanese food that is just as good as (or better than) what you’ll find in Japan. One of the key differences is the price difference between the two countries.

You can literally eat like a king in Taiwan, for much less compared to prices back in Japan - So if you’re looking for teppanyaki, yakiniku, yakitori, shabu shabu, ramen, tempura or sushi, you’ll discover that you have some pretty amazing options, no matter where you are in Taiwan. 

For most Japanese tourists the secret to Japanese dining in Taiwan is all about the omakase-style (お任せ) dining and the fresh sushi. Not only are these experiences considerably cheaper here in Taiwan, it’s also exceptionally well-made and a high percentage of Taiwan’s Michelin-rated restaurants are sushi places, such as Sushi Amamoto (鮨天本), Kitcho (吉兆割烹壽司), Sushi Nomura (鮨野村), Sushi Akira (明壽司), etc. 

Link List of Michelin starred restaurants in Taipei (Wiki)

This set-menu and intimate style of dining has become extremely popular over the past decade and as these restaurants continue to achieve international notoriety, reservations have become much more exclusive. However, what we consider an ‘expensive’ dining experience here in Taiwan is still by comparison quite affordable for Japanese diners. 

As an outsider, I’ve always found it interesting watching friends here in Taiwan planning their trips with a primary focus on where they’ll eat and drink, while my Japanese friends have essentially spent the same amount of time doing the exact same thing before coming to Taiwan.

Given the historic links between the two nations, I suppose it shouldn’t be much of a surprise - There is obviously a reason why Japanese food is so good here in Taiwan, and much of that is owed to the fifty year period of Japan’s colonial control of the island.

As I’m sure most of you have already noticed, I’ve spent a considerable amount of time over the past few years visiting and researching buildings that date back to the Japanese era, ranging from civic buildings, Martial Arts Halls, Buddhist Temples, Shinto Shrines, train stations, etc.

When it comes these historic buildings, one area where we are sadly lacking these days are the restaurants that helped to ignite the Taiwanese love affair with Japanese cuisine. Unfortunately, it’s quite rare that any of the historic restaurants constructed during the Japanese-era have lasted this long, and it’s even rarer to see them recognized as a cultural heritage building.

A few years back I introduced the beautiful Hsinchu Lakeside Ryotei (湖畔料亭), a beautiful Japanese-era restaurant located within what we know today as Hsinchu Park (新竹公園). This time, I’ll be following up with another historic riverside restaurant in Taipei, which has recently become of the city’s most popular Instagram locations in recent months. 

Known today as the ‘Kishu-An Forest of Literature’, the former riverside restaurant was once one of Taipei’s most popular restaurants, and similar to those Michelin starred set-menu dining restaurants popular in the city today, was one of the most hottest tickets in town.  

Kishu-an Ryotei (紀州庵料亭 / きしゅうあんりょうてい)

When the Japanese took control of Taiwan in 1895 (明治28年), most of the island had yet to really be developed in any meaningful way. Yet, with a rudimentary railroad set up between Keelung in Hsinchu by the previous regime, Taiwan’s new rulers worked quickly to ensure an efficient and smoother take over.

Within the first decade of Japanese rule, an almost unimaginable amount of development took place around the island with roads, railways and the construction of public works and administrative buildings sprouting up and helping to form the basis of the major cities that we know and love today.

The first few years of Japanese colonial control however were considered the harshest as the military cross-crossed the island pacifying areas that had never been under any centralized authority, and in the process putting down any opposition to their rule.

With plans to continue developing the island, the colonial government started promoting immigration and by 1897 (明治30年) they had already set up financial incentives for Japanese citizens to emigrate to the island to help contribute to its development, set up businesses and assist in the ‘Japanization’ of the island.

One of those families was the Hiramatsu family (平松) from Japan’s Wakayama Prefecture (和歌山縣), just south of Osaka on the eastern coast of the country.

In 1897, Tokumatsu Hiramatsu (平松德松) opened a restaurant in the Seimonchō (西門町 / せいもんちょう) of the capital of Taihoku. Located directly opposite the Hokkeji Temple (法華寺 / ほっけじ), the restaurant was named after Wakayama’s feudal name, ‘Kishu’ (紀州藩 / きしゅうはん) with the Character “庵“ (あん) replacing “藩” (はん), a play on words that changed the pronunciation of “Kishu-han” (the name of the feudal domain) to “Kishu-an” (literally: Kishu retreat). 

As the number of the Japanese citizens immigrating to Taiwan grew, Hiramatsu’s business continued to boom, so in 1917, the family opened a branch in the growing Kawabatacho district (川端町 / かわばたちょう), along the banks of the Xindian River (新店溪). Known for its beautiful riverside and as well as for the chrysanthemums that grew there, the area had become a popular one with the Japanese residents of the city as it became home to hip tea houses and a number of ryotei (料亭), including the famed Kawayashiki (川屋敷 / かわやしき), Shinchaya (新茶屋 / しんちゃや) and Seiryotei (清涼亭 / せいりょうてい) restaurants. 

Note: Original address for the restaurant was Kawabatacho #448 (川瑞町448番地)

The term “ryotei” (料亭 / りょうてい), which literally translates as “food pavilion” is a traditional and somewhat exclusive style of Japanese dining. In the past, ryotei weren’t open to the public in the way that most restaurants are, and new customers more or less had to be referred or introduced in order to be able to visit.  Known for their exclusivity and high class style of dining, they’re often used for important business or political meetings held in private rooms. 

Most often employing the ‘kaiseki’ (懐石料理 / かいせき) style of dining, a meal at a restaurant like this would have been a multi-course experience that employed a number of cooking techniques. Known more simply these days as a set menu (セット), a meal at Kishu-an would have consisted of an elaborate fifteen course menu served by Geisha, who would also provide entertainment. 

Link: Ryotei (Japanese style restaurant)

Similar to the Michelin-rated omakase restaurants (おまかせ) in Taipei today, reservations for a Kishu-an, or any of the other ryotei mentioned above, would have been hard to come by, and a meal there would have been an expensive experience reserved only for special occasions. 

Initially, the river branch of Kishu-an was a traditionally designed Japanese style building, but as business thrived, plans for an elaborate expansion were made in order to compete with the other ryotei nearby.

In 1927 (昭和2年), construction on a three-floor building was started that once completed would allow guests to overlook the river next to a traditional Japanese garden (日式庭園).

Completed the following year, the meticulously constructed building made use of the banyan trees (榕樹) that were felled to make way for the expansion.

Once completed, Kishu-an consisted of the main three-floor building (本館), an annex (離屋), and a garden in addition to riverside facilities for guests to make the most of their experience which included river boats, fishing, and other activities to enjoy nature.

Said to be comparable to the riverside dining experience back in Kyoto (京都), residents of Taihoku relished the opportunity to visit the riverside to enjoy the chrysanthemums during the day and fireflies at night almost as much as the residents of Taipei today enjoy riding along the beautiful bicycling path.

One is left to wonder what happened to both the flowers and the fireflies?

Business continued to thrive at Kishu-an for the next decade, but when war broke out in the Pacific and Taiwan was targeted by allied bombing campaigns, the Governor General’s office issued emergency directives that restricted ‘entertainment’ venues in order to help maintain public safety as well as to mobilize infrastructure to care for anyone injured during an attack.

With business operations shut down, Kishu-an was for a time used by the Japanese army as a temporary medical facility as it was close enough to the Southern Taipei Airport (臺北南飛行場) that it could easily tend to anyone wounded by an attack. 

Link: Nanjichang Community (南機場社區)

If it weren’t already fairly obvious, the war didn’t really end in Japan’s favor, so when the empire was forced to relinquish its control over Taiwan, the Hiramatsu family, like so many others who had lived in Taiwan for the better part of half a century, were forced to get on a boat and were repatriated back to their homeland. 

In the aftermath of the war, Kishu-an was appropriated by the Taiwan Provincial Cooperative Business Administration Office (台灣省合作事業管理處宿舍), which used it for employee housing.

In 1945, an eight year old Wang Wen-hsing (王文興) would take up residence within the building with his family, who lived there for the next three decades.

When the Chinese Nationalists retreated to Taiwan in 1949, bringing with them several million Chinese refugees, the island experienced a period of crisis with regard to housing as the refugees became squatters in any space that provided a roof over their heads. Kishu-an became one of those safe havens, and famed author Wang Wen-hsing commented that by the time he and his family vacated their residence in the late 1970s, more than two-hundred families had taken up residence within the building. 

The natural beauty of the riverside that the residents of Kawabatacho district (currently Zhongzheng District 中正區) enjoyed came to an abrupt end in the 1970s when the government constructed the Huanhe North-South Expressway (環河南北快速道路) parallel to the river. 

On the list of Taipei’s most important infrastructure projects in recent memory, construction of the expressway was one that had almost unanimous support among the residents of the city, frustrated with constant traffic congestion, which at the time still had to contend with above ground trains making their way through the city.

Once completed, the five-kilometer elevated expressway alleviated some of the city’s issues, but created a barrier between the riverside and the recreation area that was once a popular riverside tourist attraction.

Then, in 1994, disaster stuck when a fire broke out late in the afternoon on May 6th, killing one of the residents and resulting in the destruction of the main building. In the aftermath of the fire, residents were forced to find alternative accommodations and only those who lived in the annex building remained.

The state of the building, and the swampy grounds caused a headache for the city government over the next few years with plans drawn up to have the whole thing torn down and turned into a parking lot. 

A breeding ground for mosquitos, and fears of a possible dengue fever outbreak in the area, the city government was keen on evicting the remaining residents as quickly as possible and having what little remained of Kishu-an leveled. Fortunately, civic groups took action and after years of back and forth negotiations, the government capitulated and officially recognized the former restaurant as a protected heritage building (臺北市定古蹟). With official protection, the government was then tasked with coming up with a plan for its restoration, requiring a certain amount of public funds being allocated for the project. 

Several teams of researchers visited the site and after consultations, they reported that it would take an estimated twenty-four million dollars (One million USD) to complete a reconstruction and restoration project.

The reconstruction of the original building however became an issue as there weren’t enough photos, or blueprints that’d allow them to faithfully complete a replication of the original.

After several years of research, as well as negotiations with the residents of the building, a financial package was agreed on for the relocation of the residents as well as for the restoration of the annex building, with plans to reconstruct the main building abandoned.  

Starting in 2013, the restoration project was completed within a year and Kishu-an reopened to the public as the Kishu-an Forest of Literature (紀州庵文學森林), a culture park dedicated to promoting the nation’s literary history. The restoration project was so thoughtfully undertaken that they were able to retain over seventy percent of the original materials dating back more than a century.

With the annex building restored and a beautiful green park to go with it, the city government constructed a cultural centre on the grounds. Featuring a tea-house, library and space for public lectures, exhibitions and art space, the newly constructed building is where the vast majority of the culture park’s events take place, while the historic annex building allows visitors to enjoy the beauty of the historic restaurant. 

To celebrate the re-opening of Kishu-an, Ki­ichiro Hi­ra­ma­tsu (平松喜一郎), the Taiwan-born son of To­ku­ma­tsu Hi­ra­ma­tsu was invited to return to Taiwan to see home of his youth brought back to life in a modern Taiwan. 

Before introducing the architectural design of the annex building, I’ll provide a timeline of events at Kishu-an over the past 120 years: 

Kishu-an Timeline

  • 1897 (明治30年) - The Hiramatsu (平松) family from Wakayama Prefecture (和歌山縣 / わかやまけん) immigrates to Taiwan and opens ‘Kishu-an’ in Ximending (西門町 / せいもんちょう).

  • 1917 (大正7年)- The Hiramatsu family expands with a branch of Kishu-an along the banks of the Xindian River in Taihoku’s Kawabatacho district (川端町 / かわばたちょう).

  • 1927 (昭和2年) - Construction on a three-story expansion of the restaurant starts.

  • 1940 (昭和15年) - The original Kishu-an in Ximending closes and the business is primarily focused on the riverside branch.

  • 1943-1944 - Business operations are shut down due to the ongoing war and the restaurant is used to assist the injured given the close proximity to Taihoku’s Southern Airport (臺北南飛行場).

  • 1945 (昭和20年) - The buildings become dormitories for the Taiwan Provincial Cooperative Business Administration Office (台灣省合作事業管理處宿舍). One of the residents of the building is eight year old Wang Wen-hsing (王文興).

  • 1949 (民國38年) - The Chinese Nationalist Government relocates to Taiwan and Kishu-an becomes housing for a dozen families.

  • 1978 (民國67年) - Wang Wen-hsing now in his thirties moves out of Kishu-an and remarks that by then more than two hundred families had lived in the building.

  • 1994 (民國83年) - In the late afternoon on May 6th, a fire breaks out in the main building of Kishu-an destroying most of the building and killing a 31 year old disabled man.

  • 2003 (民國92年) - With plans to demolish what little remained of Kishu-an, a group of civic activists came to the rescue of the historic building and started a campaign to lobby the government to restore the building.

  • 2003 (民國92年) - On November 21st, the Taipei City government officially designates Kishu-an as a protected historic site.

  • 2011 (民國100年) - The last residents of Kishu-an move out after a relocation package is approved by the government.

  • 2013 (民國102年) - Restoration on the remaining annex building starts.

  • 2014 (民國103年) - On May 24th, the Kishu-an Forest of Literature officially opens.

Architectural Design

Given the beauty of Kishu-an, and its popularity as a tourist attraction, you’d be excused for assuming that it should be relatively easy to find detailed information regarding its architectural design. Unfortunately that’s not really the case - Save for some very detailed descriptions of the history of the building, you’ll discover that there is actually very little information about its elaborate design.

Never fear, I’ve got you covered. 

As mentioned above, Kishu-an originally consisted of a main three-floor building (本館) with an annex (離屋) connected via a passage-way between the two buildings. Located just outside the annex you would have found a beautiful Japanese-style garden with another annex building (別館) on other side.

Unfortunately both the main building and the detached annex building were destroyed by fire in the 1990s, leaving only one of the original three structures standing today.

The annex building that remains standing was historically the area of the restaurant reserved for much larger banquets or receptions, with a capacity for just over ninety guests. The rectangular-shaped building is quite long and is separated into five rooms through a network of sliding doors.

If you were looking at the building from the top down, essentially what you’d see are two rectangular shaped sections, the outer ’hisashi’ (廂 / ひさし) and the central area, known as the ‘omoya’ (主屋 / おもや).

But what does any of that actually mean?  

The central section of the building is known as the “omoya” (主屋), and it officially consists of a total interior space of sixty tatami mats (疊榻榻 / たたみ). If the sliding doors were closed into five separate rooms, each of the rooms would have been an equal twelve mats in size.

Note: 1.0 tatami (畳) = 1.5㎡ = 16.5ft² = 0.45375 Taiwanese ping (坪) 

In metric terms, what this means is that the interior space of the central room is 100㎡, with each room divided evenly into 20㎡ in size. That being said, the network of sliding doors was set up in a way that made it easy to arrange for larger rooms to accommodate for larger banquets. 

Surrounding the omoya on all four sides of the building, you’ll find traditional corridors or passageways known in Japan as ‘hisashi’. In this case however the corridors appear a bit different on each side - The front side of the building features the main entrance, and for the most part is one of the more ‘solid’ sections save for a relatively small sliding glass door ‘engawa’ (縁側 /えんがわ) veranda that would have overlooked a garden at the front.

To the direct left of the main entrance on the east side of the building you would have found the guest washrooms in addition to what was likely a room reserved for staff at the restaurant. The opposite western end on the other hand would have been where you would have found the corridor that connected the annex to the main building. Today a section of that corridor still exists and is an excellent reading space!

The southern side of the building is where the architectural design of Kishu-an really stands out as the entire side is one giant sliding glass-door veranda like the one mentioned above that stretches from one end of the building to the other. During the Japanese-era this section of the building would have overlooked the Japanese garden, and allowed guests to leave the building and enjoy the beauty of the grounds and the nearby river. Historic photos show that this section was just as beautiful a century ago as it is today, save for the fact that all of the trees and greenery planted by the Hiramatsu’s have grown into a beautiful natural space. 

In terms of the architectural style of the building, it was constructed with a combination of styles with the base, exterior and roof of the building following the irimoya-zukuri syle (入母屋造 / いりもやづくり), one of the most common of Japanese architectural designs. The interior of the building however follows a rather unique style of design among the remaining Japanese-era buildings in Taiwan today. 

Making use of Shoin-zukuri (書院造建築 / しょいんづくり), a style of architectural design that is typically reserved for mansions, temple guest halls, etc. Over the years, this simple zen-like style of interior design became informally incorporated into teahouses as elegant spaces for formal banquets or dinners. So it only made sense that ryotei like Kishu-an would follow suit.

Link: Shoin-zukuri (Wiki) 

Literally referred to as the ‘study hall’ (書院造) style of design, a building designed in this style is characterized by wall-to-wall tatami mats with sliding doors acting as the walls between the room and the outside corridors. Within the room you’d also find square beveled pillars and ‘shouji’ (障子 / しょうじ) sliding doors, allowing the space to be divided into various sections based on necessity.

Given the elegant nature of the building, the sliding shouji doors were constructed with beautiful displays of latticework within the wooden frames that were not only beautiful, but also functional in that they allowed for fresh air to travel from outside into the rooms. 

Completing the shoin-zukuri style you’ll find a tokonoma (床之間 / とこのま) alcove at the far end of the building, which would have been used to display ‘okimono’ (置物 / おきもの) or art, ornaments, flowers, etc.

Above the alcove today you’ll find a beautiful calligraphy painting with the words ‘Kishu-an’ (紀州庵).

Looking at the interior of the building, you might wonder how it’s possible that the whole thing doesn’t just implode from the weight of the roof but this is part of the genius of the open design of a shoin-zukuri style building. What you’ll want to take note of while in the main room are the large pillars pillars on each side of the dividers. These pillars help to form a network that stabilizes the entire structure with the help of trusses within the ceiling that connect directly to the pillars. Working together with the cement base, and pillars on the exterior of the building that allow the building to remain elevated above the ground, the entire system is exceptionally stable which has allowed it to remain standing for well over a century of wear and tear.  

Adding to the structural stability of the building, builders made use of ‘bamboo mud walls’ (編竹夾泥牆) to reinforce and insulate the building. This construction method was similar to what was used back in Japan, but considering how bamboo was both cheap and abundant in Taiwan, the style was modified to form a lattice, which turns out to be quite reliable as a building material.

When you visit Kishu-an today you can see an area in the wall where they put the bamboo lattice on display in order to better understand how it was used. 

Link: Bamboo Mud Wall (Wiki)

Finally, as an ‘irimoya’ style building, the base of the building, known as the moya (母屋 / もや), is slightly smaller than the hip-and-gable roof that eclipses the base. In this case though, the roof isn’t as decorative as what you’d find on a Shinto Shrine or a Buddhist temple - It is essentially shaped like an ‘open book' or the Chinese character “入“ with a gable pediments on the ridge and a hipped roof on the lower parts. The roof is dual-layered with a lower section that ensures that rain water falls a safe distance from the verandas into drains near the base.

The Kishu An Forest of Literature (紀州庵文學森林)

The Kishu An Forest of Literature (紀州庵文學森林) is located within the recently restored annex, or the aptly named “New Building” (新館), which once connected directly to the main part of the restaurant prior to it burning to the ground. 

Part of a newly established culture park with a focus on Taiwan’s literary history, the historic building is used as a tourist attraction and an exhibition space in conjunction with the newly constructed library and tea house located next door. 

While not exactly related, the literature park goes hand-in-hand with the recently restored Japanese-era Qidong Street Dorms in central Taipei, known as the Taiwan Literature Base (臺灣文學基地) in that both culture parks celebrate Taiwan’s literary history, and aim to help cultivate future superstars. 

In this case, the Kishu-An Forest of Literature is operated by the Taiwan Association for Literature Development (台灣文學發展基金會), and is in a strategic area considered to be the cradle of the literary scene in the capital. Home to two universities and publishing houses located on Tong’an Street (同安街), Xiamen Street (廈門街) and Kinmen Street (金門街) as well as the Blue Star Club (藍星詩社) and the Chinese Literature and Arts Association (中國文藝協會), the neighborhood was a pretty hip place in post-war Taiwan.

Most notably however, famous novelist Wang Wen-hsing (王文興) was once one of the tenants of Kishu-An after the war, and scenes in his novel ‘Family Catastrophe’ (家變) are set within the building.

Located next to the historic annex, you’ll find a newly constructed library and tea house which celebrates the history of the building’s past by providing tea and set dinner menus and from what I’ve seen the food looks pretty good, despite being quite different than what would have appeared on plates in the restaurant almost a century ago. Feel free to check the (Chinese-language only) link below to see some of the food and tea offerings available at the tea house. 

Link: 紀州庵文學森林風格茶館 (Kishu-An Teahouse)

While visiting the annex building today you’ll be required to remove your shoes to gain access, but once inside you’ll be able to walk around and enjoy the beauty of this extravagant Japanese-era building.

Photography within the building is permitted, but tripods aren’t as they could damage the floor.

Likewise if you’re planning a professional shoot and want to bring a model or cosplayers, you’ll have to apply for a permit beforehand.

Link: 攝影申請 (Online Photography Permit Application)

Given that the interior of the building is home to an exhibition space, what you’ll experience within the main section is likely to change on a regular basis. The rest of the building however remains the same with a room reserved to tell the history of the restaurant with informative displays and historic photos. 

For a full experience, you’ll probably want to visit the historic building as well as the newly constructed library and the tea house, but to tell the truth, I only visited the historic section of the park to take photos of the building. Visiting during a time when COVID was spreading around the capital, I took a look inside the full library building and decided against going in to check it out.

If you visit, I hope you have a chance to visit at a time when the situation is a bit more stable. 

Hours: Tuesday - Sunday from 10:00-18:00 

(Closed on Mondays and National Holidays)

Official Website: 紀州庵文學森林 | Facebook 

Getting There

 

Address: (台北市中正區同安街115號及109巷4弄6號)

GPS: 25.024340, 121.522440

Getting to the Kishu-An Forest of Literature Park is pretty convenient given Taipei’s excellent public transportation network. Whether you’re taking a bus, subway or Youbike, you shouldn’t have any problems getting there. Likewise, with a car park located to the rear of the building, and scooter spaces outside the front entrance, if you’ve got your own wheels you shouldn’t have much trouble finding a space. 

If you’re in a car, I recommend you instead search for the Tong’An Street Parking Lot (同安街平面停車場) and mapping out your route from there. Parking is 20NT per hour, but spaces are pretty limited so you might have to wait a while, or find another option further away. 

Car / Scooter 

To get to the park, I highly recommend inputting the address or coordinates provided above into your GPS or Google Maps to map out your route. If you’re driving a scooter, you should easily find a parking space along Tong’an Street. If you’re driving a car however, I recommend trying to find a spot in the parking lot mentioned above, although spaces are limited.

Taipei MRT

Kishu-an is located closest to Guting Station (古亭捷運站) on the Green Line (松山新店線), and is about an eight-minute walk from the station (600 meters). To get there you’ll want to leave from Exit 2 (2號出口) and walk straight down Tong’an Road (同安路) until you arrive at the park. 

Bus

There are two bus stops located near Kishu-an that you’ll be able to make use of if you’re planning on taking public transportation to the area, both of which are located near schools on Dingzhou Road (汀州路). 

  1. Qiangshu High School Bus Stop (強恕中學站): Bus #253, 297, 673

  2. Heti Elementary School Bus Stop (河堤國小站): Bus #297. 671, 673

Both stops are located close to Tong’an Street and are a short walk away from Kishu-an.

Click the links on the bus numbers above for real time bus schedules. 

Youbike 

Conveniently located next to Kishu-An, you’ll find a Youbike Station to park a bike - The park is next to the Taipei Riverside Bikeway and is close to the Taipei City Hakka Cultural Park (台北市客家文化主題公園), so getting there should be quite easy no matter where you’re traveling from in Taipei.

Simply input the address or GPS coordinates located above into Google Maps and you’ll have your route mapped out for you. 

Once an upscale fine dining restaurant, it would be an understatement to say that the years haven’t been all that kind to Kishu-an. Its recent revival and restoration however have allowed this beautiful historic building to once again serve the people of Taipei as a tourist attraction and a hip location to learn a bit about the literary history of Taipei, and Taiwan. Let’s face it though, having become a hot Instagram photo location, the majority of visitors to Kishu-an these days mostly consists of young people coming to enjoy a bit of their city’s history, as well as to take photos in this beautiful building with its natural surroundings.

A visit to Kishu-an won’t take much time, and if you’re already riding through the city’s riverside park, I highly recommend stopping by.

Unfortunately, for foreign tourists, most of the literary events planned for Kishu-an aren’t as English-language friendly as those at the Qidong Street Dorms. I do recommend checking the Facebook page linked above before any visit, so you’ll have a better idea of what’s going on. 

References

  1. The Kishu An Forest of Literature | 紀州庵文學森林 (Travel Taipei)

  2. Kishu An Forest of Literature (Ministry of Culture)

  3. Witness to Riverside History—Kishu An | 城南新水岸紀事──紀州庵 (Taiwan Panorama)

  4. 紀州庵 (Wiki)

  5. 臺北市直轄市定古蹟列表 (Wiki)

  6. 紀州庵文學森林 (台北文化局)

  7. 紀州庵 (國家文化資產處)

  8. 台北市定古蹟紀州庵 (中央研究院科學研究中心地理資訊科學研究專題中心)

  9. 紀州庵文學森林作家私房菜 故事加人情調味,品嚐作家的款待 (微笑台灣)

  10. 和風水岸的悠閒—紀州庵料亭 (晰誌 | See Zine)

  11. 老屋的容顏|紀州庵:風光近半世紀高級料亭 (Bios Monthly)