Jialishan (加里山)

Miaoli’s Jiali Mountain has been a hike that has been at the top of my list of trails to check out for quite some time, but has sadly stayed that way due to it being somewhat inaccessible, that is, if you don’t have your own means of transportation - So, when a good friend of mine sent a late night text asking: “Jialishan, this Sunday, you in?”, I didn’t need to take any time to consider, it was an automatic yes.

And, let me tell you, I was so happy that I was able to add this one to my list of mountains in Taiwan that I’ve hiked.

The weather that day was absolutely perfect, the light on the trail was beautiful, the scenery on the peak was spectacular, and I also met some cool new hiking friends in the process!

Nicknamed Taiwan’s Mount Fuji (台灣富士山), with a peak reaching 2220 meters, Jialishan is one of the highest of Taiwan’s ‘100 Minor Peaks’ (小百岳), a group of mountains that range between elevations of 2600m at the highest and 20m at the lowest. Unlike Taiwan’s highest peaks, however, each of which reach over 3000m in height, the ‘Minor Peaks’ are a constantly evolving selection of popular day-hikes that range from entry-level hikes, with easy access to public transportation, to hikes like this one that require a little more skill and effort to complete.

Whereas the major peaks often require permits and a commitment of several days to complete, many are surprised to learn that they may have already completed some of the ‘Minor Peaks,’ some of which include Taipei’s Qixing Mountain (七星山), Jiantan Mountain (劍潭山) and the so-called ‘Four Beasts Mountains’ (四獸山). So, if you’ve found yourself on the peak of Taipei’s Elephant Mountain (象山) enjoying the spectacular views of the Taipei cityscape, you’ve already been on at least one of the ‘minor peaks’.

In each case, the hikes mentioned above are easy to get to, and don’t particularly require too much effort or skill to complete. That being said, there are a number of hikes on the list, mostly located in central Taiwan, that are considerably more difficult, and require a lot more effort. At 2663m, the highest mountain on the list, Mount Daito (大塔山), might not be the most difficult to complete, but still, it takes the better part of a day. The fifth highest mountain on the list, Jialishan, similarly takes the better part of a day to complete, but isn’t exactly the easiest to reach, nor is it the easiest for most people to complete.

Nevertheless, the challenges you face while hiking the trail aren’t likely to outweigh the rewards as you’ll enjoy dense forests of Japanese cedar, a historic timber railway, and stunning views of the several mountain ranges.

Hiking the mountain on a clear day, we were able to enjoy a view of Taiwan’s second-highest peak, Snow Mountain (雪山), which was covered in snow at the time. At the same time, thanks to the peak being the highest in the area, we were also rewarded with 360 degree views of the Central Mountain Range, which includes the Alishan Mountain Range (阿里山山脈) to the south, where Mount Daito, mentioned above is the highest peak.

Given that I love hiking Taiwan’s mountains, and the hike also included a walk along a historic Japanese-era railway, this is exactly the kind of experience that the doctor ordered after a long, rainy and cold Lunar New Year holiday. The popularity of this hike shouldn’t surprise anyone as all of your sweat won’t compare to the rewards you’ll receive at the peak.

Today, I’m going to introduce the trails on the hike, talk a bit about the railway you’ll see along the way, and offer information about how to get there so that anyone wanting to enjoy the hike has the information they need to get there. Unfortunately, I have to preface this by letting you know that for most foreign visitors, getting to the trail isn’t that easy, and its likely that you’ll need help in that department, so I’ll be providing links to groups that will be able to help arrange transportation and guides.

Jialishan (加里山)

Before I start introducing the trails on the hike, let me first take some time to provide some practical information about the mountain and the range that it is a part of. If you’re already familiar with Taiwan’s geography, you’re likely aware that the country is geologically ‘split’ between the eastern and western sides by several mountain ranges. The term “Central Mountain Range” is probably the most well-known in this regard, but there are actually several ranges that make up what is essentially the spine of Taiwan, including the Alishan Range (阿里山山脈), Xueshan Range (雪山山脈), the Coastal Mountain Range (海岸山脈) and the Yushan Range (玉山山脈).

The Jialishan Mountain Range (加里山山脈), is located on the north-western edge of the spine spreading from Nantou County (南投縣) in central Taiwan to Keelung (基隆) on the north coast. About 180 kilometers in length, the range includes a number of mountains, several of which are well over 2000 meters in height, most notably Jialishan at 2,220 meters, Dongxishui Shan (東洗水山) at 2,248 meters, and the highest mountain on the range, Le Mountain (樂山) at 2,618 meters. While they not be the largest on the range, there are a number of peaks that are part of the Jialishan Range that are incredibly popular with tourists, some of which I already mentioned above, such as Elephant Mountain (香山), Jinmian Mountain (金面山), Jiantan Mountain (劍潭山), Bitou Cape (鼻頭角), etc.

A snow-capped Snow Mountain in the distance.

Suffice to say, you may not have heard the term before, but if you’ve spent any time hiking in Taipei, you’re likely to have found yourself enjoying one of the mountains that is part of the mountain range.

Despite Jialishan itself not being the highest peak on the range, geographer Tomita Yoshirou (富田芳郎 / とみたよしろう) and geologist Lin Chaoqi (林朝棨) coined the term during the Japanese-era, and it stuck. That being said, there is debate as to whether the ‘Jialishan Range’ is actually a mountain range or not. Similarly known as the “Western Thrust Fault Mountains” (西部衝上斷層山地), one of the main reasons why it’s not incorporated into the Xueshan Range is due to differences in the range’s geology, which is more similar to that of the Alishan Range to the south. Another reason why there is debate as to whether or not it is a mountain range on its own is because its topography is cut by several different rivers, which act as tributaries for some of Taiwan’s major sources of fresh water.

The debate as to whether it’s a mountain range or not really isn’t the point for this article, but as the namesake for the range, Jialishan is not only a popular hike, but a prominent mountain as well. Located between Miaoli County’s Nanzhuang (南庄鄉) and Tai’an (泰安鄉) townships, the mountain has been known throughout history as “Jiali'xian Mountain” (加里仙山), Santai Mountain (三台山), or Jialishan (嘉璃山), which has a similar pronunciation to the current name, but uses different Chinese characters. Today, the mountain is officially know as “Jiali Mountain” (加里山), but is also nicknamed ‘Miaoli Mountain’ (苗栗縣山), and since the Japanese-era, it has been referred to as ‘Taiwan’s Fuji Mountain’ (台灣富士山).

The Jialishan trailhead is located deep within the mountains, and as mentioned earlier, isn’t the easiest to get to, but as you pass through the historic Hakka village of Nanzhuang and make your way further up into the mountains, you’ll discover that you’re passing through several indigenous communities, and the further you make your way up the road to the trailhead, the more remote you’ll find these communities become, consisting mostly of mountain-side farms.

Note: Located within Nanzhuang Township, you’ll find the following indigenous tribes: Rareme’an (向天湖部落), Kahkahoe’an (八卦力部落), Hororok (鵝公髻部落), Walo’ (瓦祿部落), Ray’in (蓬萊部落), Sasasezeman (東江新邨部落), Raisinay (石壁部落), P’anoh (鹿場部落), Sinpitu (鹿湖部落), Haboeh (大窩山部落), Batbato’an (二坪部落), Tamayo’an (大湳部落), all of which are members of the Saisiyat People (賽夏族), one of the smallest of Taiwan’s officially recognized indigenous groups, mostly located within Hsinchu County and Miaoli County.

Link: Council of Indigenous Peoples (原住民族委員會)

The important thing to remember about the road to Jialishan is that the further you drive into the mountains, the narrower, and more steep the road becomes. It’s not an easy road for most vehicles, and you need to drive carefully and constantly be aware of and considerate of on-coming traffic. On our drive to the trailhead, we encountered a relatively new Lexus that was overheating and had to stop on the side of the road to let the car cool down. With that in mind, you’ll want to keep not only your own physical condition in mind, but also the condition of your vehicle before attempting to reach the trailhead.

Once you’ve arrived at the parking lot, you’ll pay a small parking fee, and the trailhead is a short walk away.

Jialishan Trail (加里山登山步道)

A short distance from where you park your car, you’ll find the trailhead marker for the trail, where you’re likely to encounter fellow hikers taking photos prior to setting off, or just after they’ve finished their hike. The marker includes both the name of the trail and a map of the routes you can take through the forest. While looking at the map, you’re likely to notice that you have a few options on the hike, but most people choose to hike to the peak, and then either leaving the way they came, or completing a circuit from the trailhead to the peak, to another peak, and then down through the historic timber railway trail.

The first option, which is probably the most popular, is just over seven kilometers in length, and will likely take anywhere between six and seven hours to complete. That, however, depends on the amount of time you take to enjoy the peak, and how often you take breaks.

The circuit hike on the other hand takes considerably longer, and is almost double the length. While the vast majority of people hiking the trail are likely only hiking in and out, if you’re like myself and want to enjoy the complete experience, the most important thing you’re going to have to keep in mind is the time you’re setting off from the trailhead - if you aren’t at the trailhead shortly after the sunrise, its probably not a great idea to hike the circuit as you’re likely to find yourself hiking out in the dark. Today, I’ll be sharing photos from the circuit hike, which my group started shortly after 7:30am, and didn’t actually finish until close to 4:00 in the afternoon. So, for your own personal safely, you’re going to want to keep this in mind prior to starting the hike.

As I move on below, I’ll introduce both the in-and-out ‘Jialishan Return’ hike as well as the ‘Circuit Hike’ with an introduction to each of the hikes, a break down of the routes you’ll take, and offer downloadable GPX files that you can put on your phone prior to the hike. Then I’ll offer information about how to get to the trail and the things you’ll need to bring with you.

Jialishan Return Trip

As I’ve mentioned a few times already, the in-and-out route is probably the preferred hike for most people hiking this mountain - It’s a straight forward 3.9 kilometer hike to the peak, and then heading back the way you came. I’ve seen some articles claim that the hike is seven kilometers in length, but the good people at the Hiking Journal (健行筆記), one of Taiwan’s best resources for information about mountains and trails, have a detailed break down of the hike with GPX that show that its actually closer to eight.

The estimated break down for the hike is as follows:

Jialishan Trailhead (加里山鹿場登山口) → Fengmei River (風美溪) - 0.6K, 15min

Fengmei River → Refuge Hut (避難山屋) - 1.3K, 70min

Refuge Hut - #9 Boulder Ascent ( 九號救援椿陡升坡) - 1.3K, 45min

#9 Boulder Ascent → Jialishan Peak (加里山三角點) - 0.5K, 45min

Jialishan Peak - Jialishan Trailhead - 3.9K, 175min

Once you’ve parked your car, you’ll find it’s a very short walk to the trailhead and given that you’ve already travelled so far up into the mountains already, it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that the transition from paved parking lot to nature is almost instantaneous. For much of the first hour or two of the hike, you’ll be passing through a forest of Japanese cedar trees that date back to Taiwan’s Japanese era (1895 - 1945), part of a reforestation effort after the timber industry culled the original forest. It’s not until you reach higher elevations that you’ll encounter the mountain’s native alpine-like forest.

Even though the trail is well-maintained, one of the things you’ll have to be mindful of while hiking are all of the tree roots that you’ll encounter along the trail. In some areas, the roots are absolutely beautiful, especially when the morning light is shining on them, so even though you need to tread carefully, they’re also an enjoyable aspect of the hike. Similarly, the first portion of the hike travels along an abandoned railway, so you’ll have to be careful while walking along the rails as some of them have become dislodged over the decades.

Along the way, you’ll encounter several rest stops where you and your party can sit, catch your breath, or have a snack. The stops usually feature a bench, but the higher you get, you’ll also find that the trail is home to some really large boulders that are pretty good for sitting on as well.

You’ll also come across periodic trail markers that provide information about the direction hikers need to take, and the remaining length of the trail that are meant to help you from getting lost.

Shortly after starting the hike, you’ll have to cross the Fengmei River (風美溪), but don’t worry, you won’t get wet. There are large rocks you can walk on and ropes that assist you in crossing the river. Prior to crossing the river, the hike is a quaint walk through a flat forest, leading you to think that its going to be a pretty easy day.

After crossing the river, though, the flat sections of trail are few and far between as the trail becomes quite steep. This is where the rest stops come in handy as you’ll undoubtedly need to take breaks. Later on, there are several slopes that you’ll have to climb, so if you have brought gloves with you, you’ll probably want to put them on to keep your hands soft and pretty.

That being said, the slopes are rarely very difficult to walk up, so even though it’s advised that you bring a pair of gloves with you on the hike, it’s not like other popular hikes like Wuliaojian (五寮尖), Stegosaurus Ridge (劍龍稜) or Huang Di Dian (皇帝殿) where gloves are an absolute necessity.

After a few hours of hiking, you’ll reach the aptly named ‘#9 Boulder Ascent’ rock, which comes with a warning sign for danger, but don’t let it scare you, it’s pretty easy to walk up the rock, and once you get to the top, you’re treated to your first glimpse of the amazing views that the peak is renowned for, looking directly toward the Snow Mountain Range.

From there, the peak is only a few hundred meters away, and once you arrive you’ll be treated to 360 degree views of several different mountain ranges. While at the top, you’ll likely want to take a photo with the stone triangulation point (三角點), identifying the peak of Jialishan, with the name of the mountain and its elevation, for your collection.

The peak tends to be quite windy as it’s completely open to the elements, so even though you’ll want to stay there to enjoy the view for a while, it’s probably a good idea to wear a hat to prevent yourself from getting sunstroke. You might also need a windbreaker, even on a hot day.

While we were on the peak, there was a group of seasoned Taiwanese hikers who had nestled themselves into a flat spot and were having a massive full course spread before leaving. So, if you can find a spot, you’ll probably want to have something to eat before heading back.

Once you’re done on the peak, simply head back down the way you came.

This time, though, you’ll want to take extra care on the slopes as you’ll be walking down them instead of up, and you might run into traffic along the way. Take it slow.

Trailhead (登山口): Jialishan Hiking Trail (加里山登山步道)

Trail Length (步道里程): 7.8km

Altitude (海拔高度): 1280-2220m

Time: 6-7 hours

Difficulty: (難易度): Medium

Permit: (申請入山): No

The downloadable GPX for the Jialishan Return hike is linked below:

Link: Jialishan Return Hike (健行筆記)

Jialishan - Dujuanling Circuit (加里山 - 杜鵑嶺)

Your other option, which if you have enough time - I highly recommend, is to complete the Jialishan - Dujuanling Circuit hike. However, with the in-and-out route reaching nearly eight kilometers, it’s already quite long for what most people are comfortable with for a day hike. The circuit route is considerably longer, more difficult, and requires a lot more time, but along the way you’ll make your way to Dujuanling (杜鵑嶺), another peak, and get to experience a completely different forest, one that was left somewhat untouched by the timber industry, before making your way to the historic timber railway part of the route.

The break down for the circuit hike is as follows:

Jialishan Trailhead (加里山鹿場登山口) → Fengmei River (風美溪) - 0.6K, 15min

Fengmei River → Refuge Hut (避難山屋) - 1.3K, 70min

Refuge Hut - #9 Boulder Ascent ( 九號救援椿陡升坡) - 1.3K, 45min

#9 Boulder Ascent → Jialishan Peak (加里山三角點) - 0.5K, 45min

Jialishan Peak → Dujuanling (杜鵑嶺) - 1.7K, 40min

Dujuanling → Marker #4 (杜鵑嶺四號救援椿) - 1.0K, 50min

Marker #4 → Marker #14 (14號救援椿) - 1.3K, 60min

Marker #14 → Jialishan Trail (加里山登山口叉) - 2.7k, 70min

Jilishan Trail → Refuge Hut - 2.7K, 70min

Refuge Hut - Jialishan Trailhead - 1.9K, 50min

The circuit hike follows the same route to the peak of Jialishan, but once you’ve reached the peak, you’ll continue walking along the ridge on a path that takes you to another peak named Dujuanling (杜鵑嶺). Completely different than the peak of Jialishan, this one is tree-covered and measures at an altitude of 2113m, just seven meters lower than the Jialishan. For a lot of hikers, the hike to Dujuanling means that they get to cross another one off of their list, so it’s well worth the extra effort.

That being said, there’s not much to see at the peak of Dujuanling, so you’ll probably just take a photo with the triangulation point and then continue making your way back down to the trailhead.

As mentioned earlier, one of the main reasons why the circuit hike is more attractive is that you get to travel through a more untouched portion of the forest, and then meet up with the area where a historic trolly system met with the timber railway.

Unlike the first portion of the trail, which pretty much just goes up, this part of the circuit trail has several areas where you’re going up, down, up, and then down again - it’s a lot harder on the legs - so if you’re hiking this one, you’re going to get a pretty good workout on the extra four kilometers of trail. Once again, given that you’ll need a few extra hours to complete this hike, the time you arrive at the trailhead is really important, as is your level of fitness. Requiring around eight hours, if you haven’t arrived early enough, it’s probably not a good idea to hike the circuit.

Trailhead (登山口): Jialishan Hiking Trail (加里山登山步道)

Trail Length (步道里程): 12.5km

Altitude (海拔高度): 1280-2220m

Time: 7-9 hours

Difficulty: (難易度): Medium-Difficult

Permit: (申請入山): No

The downloadable GPX for the Jialishan Circuit Trail is linked below:

Link: Jialishan Circuit Trail GPX (健行筆記)

Jialishan Timber Railway (加里山林業鐵道)

The historic ‘Old Street’ in Nanzhuang (南庄老街) has been a popular destination for weekend tourist crowds for quite a while, but unlike most of Taiwan’s other so-called ‘Old Streets’, such as Daxi Old Street (大溪老街), the history of Nanzhuang isn’t very well advertised. When you visit, you’ll find an incredible amount of Hakka and Indigenous culture and cuisine lining the streets, but explanations as to why the village was once so prosperous are hard to come by.

Like most of Taiwan’s other tourist old streets, you’ll find buildings constructed with baroque facades, a massive temple, and vendors lining the streets selling local snacks, but one of the problems caused by Miaoli being Taiwan’s most debt-ridden county is that it is unable to restore buildings of historic significance. In Nanzhuang’s case, the village would do well to follow the example of Daxi, and restore some of the buildings that were instrumental in bringing so much wealth to the village.

Link: The Daxi that Japan left behind (日本留下的大溪)

In 1918 (大正7年), the Taiwan Governor General’s Office established the Nanzhuang Camphor Forest Operations Headquarters (南庄樟林作業所), and over the next few decades, the village experienced massive growth thanks to the Forestry Industry, extracting not only camphor from the mountains, but citronella oil and coal, as well.

Jialishan, the highest mountain in the area was home to a large amount of camphor (樟腦), an incredibly important natural resource during the Japanese era, so the mountain became home to a highly developed logging industry that boasted over 5,200 meters of railway, and a cable trolly that transported timber down the mountain.

When the Japanese era came to an end, the timber industry continued for a short time, but the operation was eventually abandoned as camphor reserves were depleted, and its importance wained in favor of a synthetic alternative. Left abandoned for decades, the railway and (amazingly) some of the trolly equipment can still be found on the mountain today. As you hike the mountain, you’ll have the opportunity to walk along the historic railway in areas where the rails are still intact, but changes in the landscape over the years have made it so that the original route isn’t accessible or safe to hike.

While I do write hiking guides somewhat regularly, one of my areas of expertise with regard to my research and writing about Taiwan focuses on the island’s fifty year of Japanese colonial rule. Most of you are here for information on the hike, but I think it’s important to note how that period transformed a lot of what you’ll experience when you hike the Jialishan Trail today. The key thing to keep in mind was that in addition to Taiwan’s fruit, sugar and coal, camphor was one of the most important natural resources extracted by the Japanese, making the island an untapped treasure trove that assisted in amassing massive amounts of foreign exchange and fueling Taiwan’s development.

One area that is quite admirable, especially when you look back with a modern view of these things, is that there was enough foresight to realize that the extraction of camphor was an unsustainable industry, and that the reforestation of these mountainous areas was essential for not only the long-term health of the timber industry, but for the natural environment as well.

Scientists were sent to Taiwan to set up research stations in many of the main timber industry locations around the island, such as those in nearby Kappazan (角板山) and Chikuto (竹東). It was in these stations where they made scientific breakthroughs, such as in the cultivation of cinchona (金雞納樹), a flowering plant known for its medicinal value, especially with regard to treating malaria. In other cases, many of the mountainous forests around Taiwan were reforested with Japanese cedar (杉 / すぎ), which was also incredibly important for the future development and construction projects across Taiwan.

Today, you’ll find several ‘Forest Recreation Parks’ (森林遊樂區) around Taiwan that were once occupied by the timber industry, but have been converted into mountainous hiking trails where people are able to escape the city and enjoy nature. Dongyanshan (東眼山) in the mountains of Taoyuan is another well-known example, and is an area that was also reforested with beautiful Japanese cedars that have been growing for nearly a century.

Link: Dongyanshan Forest Recreation Park (東眼山國家森林遊樂區)

For a lot of hikers, the abandoned railway on this hike is reminiscent of what you’ll experience on other popular tourist mountains, like Alishan (阿里山) and Taipingshan (太平山), but in this case, the railway isn’t as accessible, so the photos you’ll get won’t be the same as those that have become popular on Instagram in recent years!

preparing for the Hike

As mentioned earlier, while preparing to hike Jialishan, there are a few things you’ll first need to take into consideration as well as some other things you’ll want to take along with you for the hike, so I’ll offer a few helpful suggestions for those of you wanting to enjoy this trail.

The first, and probably most important thing you’ll want to consider is your level of fitness, and the amount of time you have to complete the hike.

In both cases, you’ll want to arrive early in the morning to start the hike, but when it comes to the ‘circuit’ hike, both the amount of time you have, and your level of fitness are going to be major factors in your level of success. The circuit hike is a lot longer, and a lot more difficult to complete, and you’re going to have to carry a lot more water and food with you if you choose that option. As a frequent hiker, when I’m not climbing mountains, I spend a lot of time on cardio at the gym, and still, at the end of this one, my legs were feeling a bit like rubber. If you have doubts, I highly recommend sticking to the shorter hike.

Things you’ll need to bring:

  • Water - It’s advisable that you carry at least 2-3 litres of water with you on this hike. Depending on how much water you drink, you might even want to carry more with you just in case. I completed the circuit hike, and I can attest that 2L was not sufficient.

  • Food - You should prepare some high-protein snacks, and bring a lunch that you can enjoy while hiking. As you pass through Nanzhuang, there are a number of convenience stores and supermarkets where you can stop and purchase snacks, but that will be your last chance to purchase anything, so make sure you have what you need beforehand, and also don’t forget to carry your garbage out with you.

  • Gloves - There are a number of areas where you’re going to have to pull yourself up a rock face with the help of ropes. The ropes are a great help, but they can be hard on your skin. You’ll probably want to prepare a pair of gloves that you can put on when necessary. Most hardware stores in Taiwan sell cheap $10NT work gloves that you can purchase for hikes like this. You don’t need to buy an expensive pair of gloves at a hiking store.

  • Sun Protection - One of my worst habits is that I rarely remember to prepare sunscreen (or a hat) for the hikes I go on, and I often end up getting heat stroke, which was the case with this hike. During the hike, especially when nearing the peak, you are going to be completely open to the sun, so you’ll want to make sure to prepare both sunscreen and a hat to protect yourself.

  • Towel / Quick Dry Clothing - You’re going to sweat on this one, so I highly recommend you bring a towel with you to wipe yourself down from time to time. I don’t sweat as much as most of my hiking friends, but I was absolutely dripping during this hike. Similarly, you’re going to want to wear quick-dry clothing to ensure that all of your sweat doesn’t result in you catching a cold when you’re done.

  • Windbreaker - While on the peak of the mountain, it’s going to be quite windy. You should probably consider preparing a windbreaker jacket to protect yourself.

  • Phone / Camera - This is something that I probably don’t really have to mention, but if the photos in this article aren’t already evidence enough, the trail and the peak are absolutely beautiful. You’ll definitely want to have something to help record your experience. On that note, though, if you have a drone, you should leave it at home. The peak of Jialishan is in a restricted zone, so you’ll have carried your heavy drone for nothing as it won’t take off unless you have a special permit.

  • Friends to enjoy the experience with - Hiking is always better with friends. For safety, don’t hike this one alone. Friends are also useful for helping to take photos.

Getting There

Jialishan Hiking Trail

Address: Luchang Communication Rd, Nanzhuang Township, Miaoli County (苗栗縣南庄鄉東河村鹿場24鄰19-20號)

GPS: 24.586000, 120.997240

Alright, so here’s the bad news. Getting to Jialishan isn’t so easy.

You more or less need to have your own means of transportation, and the road to the mountain is very remote and narrow. It’s more or less impossible for a bus to get up there, and if someone even attempted it, it would cause massive traffic jams or accidents on what are cliff-side roads.

The address and GPS coordinates I’ve provided above aren’t for the trailhead, they’re for the parking lot that is made available to hikers a short walk from where the trail starts.

If you have your own means of transportation, the parking lot has a fee of $100NT for the day, no matter how long you’re on the trail, and there will be people there to direct you where to park.

Included in your parking fees are access to a public restroom where you can use the washroom before and after your hike, or simply just to wash up.

The Parking Lot on Google Maps is listed as the “Jialishan Trailhead Forest Camping Area” (加里山登山口森林露營區), and there are camp grounds near by, which might actually be quite useful if you can get to the trail the night before and wake up early in the morning for the hike.

In terms of public transportation, there’s nothing that will get you even remotely close to the trail, so your only option would be to hop on a bus to Nanzhuang and then grabbing a taxi to the trailhead. That being said, getting back down from there would be a bit of a nightmare as its unlikely that many taxi drivers would be willing to go that far and take their car on the steep road just to pick you and your group up.

If you’re intent on hiking the trail, you’re in luck, as the best option would be to take a chartered ride with the good people at Parkbus, who often schedule trips to this mountain (as well as others) for a minimal charge.

I can’t guarantee the frequency for which they plan trips to this specific mountain, but as I’m looking at the site now, their next trip to Jialishan is taking place a month from now, so they likely have a regular schedule of trips to the mountain that you’ll want to keep track of.

Their services include both pick up and drop off at Taipei Station, so you’ll have your travel completely covered, as well as the assistance of an experienced English-speaking guide.

Link: Jiali Mountain -加里山 (Parkbus)

Long on my list of trails to hike, I have to say, I was quite content with this one. The day we hiked the mountain was absolutely beautiful with great weather and clear skies. The trail was fun, and even though I was feeling the pain when I got home, it was well worth it. The views from the peak of Jialishan are spectacular, and if you’re well-versed in Taiwan’s geography, you’ll easily be able to point out some of the other major mountains off in the distance. Suffice to say, this is a hike that is highly recommended, but you need to keep your level of fitness in mind, and make sure that you bring enough water and snacks to keep your body well-fueled for the experience.

If you end up hiking the mountain, have fun and be safe!


References

  1. 加里山 (Wiki)

  2. 加里山山脈 | Jialishan Range (Wiki)

  3. 台灣小百岳 (Wiki)

  4. 台灣小百岳列表 (Wiki)

  5. 加里山登山步道 (健行筆記)

  6. 加里山登山步道 | Mt. Jiali Summit Trail (台灣山林悠遊網)

  7. 苗栗加里山步道 (WalkerLand)

  8. 台灣小百岳苗栗加里山 (GoSunBody)

  9. Jiali Mountain (Taiwan Trails and Tales)

  10. Jiali Mountain (Parkbus)

  11. Hiking Jialishan (Taiwan Outdoors)


Taiwanese Hokkien-style Architecture (臺灣閩南建築)

When I first started writing on this website, I spent quite a bit of time focusing on Taiwan’s historic places of worship, or at least, some of the more popular and well-known temples in the country. Why? Well, its pretty simple, its what I was interested in, and it goes without saying that temples here are absolutely beautiful.

Later, when I branched out and started publishing articles about other kinds of tourist destinations and attractions around Taiwan, I made sure to maintain a focus on the subjects that I enjoy, which for the most part have to do with the local religion, mountains and nature, and urban exploration. It takes quite a bit of my personal time to write these articles, so its important that I write about the things I care about. Thus, one of the common themes that you may have noticed by now is that the places I write about almost always share a relationship with the history of Taiwan, and are destinations that have an interesting story to tell. Afterwards, when I started writing about destinations related to the fifty year period of colonial rule, known as the Japanese-era, my research forced me to spend a considerable amount of time learning more about the architectural design characteristics of those historic places I was writing about, so that I could better explain their significance.

On a personal note, something I’ve probably never mentioned is that both my father and my late grandfather are (were) highly-skilled and widely-sought master carpenters back home. After my parents divorced, I’d sometimes get taken to a work site where they were in the middle of constructing some beautiful new house (likely in the hope that I’d carry on the family tradition), and although our relationship was never really that strong, I had to respect the mathematical genius it took for them to construct some of the things they were were building. Looking back, I probably never expected that years later, I’d be spending so much time researching and writing about these things, but in order to better understand the complicated and genius designs of those historic places I was writing about, I had to put in the extra effort to learn about their design characteristics.

Getting to the point, recently, while writing an article about Taipei’s Jiantan Historic Temple (劍潭古寺), I figured I’d do what I normally do and spend some time writing about the its special architectural characteristics. Sadly, writing that article forced me to face the sad truth that after all these years learning about the intricacies of traditional Japanese architectural design, that I actually knew very little about traditional ‘Taiwanese’ design. Finishing that article ended up taking considerably longer than I originally expected because I spent so much time researching and learning about the various elements of local architectural design, and the terms, many of which were completely new to me, that would be necessary to properly describe the design of the temple.

Suffice to say, much of what I ended up learning during those days spent in coffee shops researching the topic were things that I could go back and apply to dozens of articles that I’ve published in the past, but going back and adding descriptions of the architectural design of all of those places feels like a daunting task at the moment - so, for the time being, I’ve decided to make use of a collection of photos that I’ve taken over the years to offer readers a general idea about the intricacies of one of Taiwan’s most common styles of architectural design, and more specifically the decorative elements that make these buildings so visually spectacular.

While this might sound corny, when it comes to traditional Taiwanese architectural design, the old adage, “a picture is worth a thousand words” is something that I think can be expanded upon as “a Taiwanese temple is worth a thousand stories,” each of which you’ll find is depicted in great detail in every corner of a temple. Unfortunately, for most people, locals included, these stories remain somewhat of a mystery, and for visitors to Taiwan, this is a topic that hasn’t been covered very well in the English-language.

Obviously, the intent here is to help people better understand what they’re seeing when they’re standing in front of one of these buildings, however even though this article will be a long one, it’s important to keep in mind that I’m only touching upon the tip of the iceberg of this topic, which is something that is deserving of years of research.

‘Hokkien’ or ‘Taiwanese’?

To start, I should probably first address the wordage I’m using here, which should help readers understand some of the complicated cultural and historic factors involved. People often find themselves in heated arguments online when it comes to this topic, and although that’s something I’d prefer to avoid, as is the case with almost everything in Taiwan these days, there are some political factors involved. Whether or not you agree, when I use the term “Taiwanese-Hokkien,” I’m doing my best to use an inclusive term that reflects the history of Taiwan, and the current climate we find ourselves in with regard to the complicated relationship that Taiwan shares with its neighbor to the west.

Over the years, one of the things I’ve noticed that causes the most amount of confusion, and debate, is with regard to the difference between ‘nationality’ and ‘ethnicity.’ This is something that I’ve always found particularly confusing, mostly due to my own personal background; So, if you’ll allow me, let me make an analogy, I’ll try to explain things that way.

If you weren’t already aware, I grew up in the eastern Canadian province of Nova Scotia, an area that has been colonized by both the French and English. However, for much of its modern history, Nova Scotia, which is Latin for ‘New Scotland,’ was predominately populated by immigrants hailing from Scotland.

Being of Scottish ancestry myself, people at home would probably think I had mental issues if I suddenly started claiming that the province was part of Scotland’s sovereign territory, simply because of the history of immigration.

Similarly, in Nova Scotia, we speak a dialect of French, known as ‘Francais Acadien’ which, unlike the language spoken in Quebec or France, is a variation that hasn’t really changed much over the past few hundred years.

Thus, if I were to contrast the history of my homeland with that of Taiwan’s history, Chinese immigration to Taiwan is an example of how colonization in the early seventeenth century brought about a divergence, and a split, when it comes to language and culture.

The earliest Chinese migrants to the island hailed from what is now China’s Fujian Province (福建省), more specifically Chaozhou (潮州), Zhangzhou (漳州) and Amoy (廈門), and like the Scots who fled to Canada, many of those who came to Taiwan did so to escape economic hardship and persecution at home. This mass movement of people, the vast majority of whom were of ‘Southern-Fukienese’, or ‘Hokkien’ (閩南) in origin, sent most people on their way to more hospitable locations, such as Singapore, Malaysia, the Philippines, Indonesia, Myanmar, Southern Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam, and is why you’ll still find considerably large ethnic Chinese populations in those countries today.

Similarly, Taiwan just so happened to be another one of the destinations where the immigrants came by the boatloads, but unlike the other areas mentioned above, the island wasn’t exactly what would be considered the ‘choice’ destination for most of the migrants due to the lack of development and the harsh conditions on the island.

Coincidentally, this is a topic that I covered quite extensively after a trip to Vietnam with regard to the Assembly Halls (會館) that were constructed in the historic trading port of Hoi An (會安), where groups of migrants pooled their resources together to create places to celebrate their language and cultural heritage.

Link: Chinese Assembly Halls of Hoi An (會安華人會館)

With regard to those Assembly Halls, what is interesting is that the Hokkien were just ‘one’ of the ethnic groups hailing from that particular region of China that ended up migrating south, starting mostly during the Ming and Qing Dynasties. In fact, even though the term “Hokkien” refers to the people from “Southern Min”, they are part of a large number of ethnic groups, whose ancestry originated in the Central Plains of China several thousand years ago. However, similar to Taiwan’s other major ethnic group of migrants, the Hakka (客家), the Hokkien people are renowned for being well-traveled, and within ethnic-Chinese communities around the world, you’ll be sure to find a large portion of Hokkien people who have brought with them their own own particular style of architectural design, folk arts, cuisine, religious practices, and folklore, they have also adapted influences of their new homelands.

In Taiwan’s case, over the past few centuries, Hokkien language and culture has been influenced by their interactions with the Hakka, Indigenous Taiwanese, Europeans, and the Japanese. Such is the case that linguistically-speaking, the language spoken in Taiwan makes it difficult (not impossible) for speakers of the language hailing from China or South East Asia to comprehend, which have also had linguistic divergences of their own. Sadly, though, the Hokkien language has had a complicated history in Taiwan given that it was suppressed by both the Japanese and Chinese Nationalist colonial regimes.

Yet, despite the language going through a period of decline in the number of speakers over the past century, it has gone through somewhat of a revival in the decades since the end of Martial Law (戒嚴時期), thanks to the ‘mother-tongue movement’, which seeks to revive, restore and celebrate Hokkien, Hakka and Taiwan’s indigenous languages.

Nevertheless, as I mentioned earlier, an area of contention with regard to the language has to do with its official name, which tends to be quite political, and how it is named really depends on who you’re talking to. As is the case with Mandarin, which is referred to in Mandarin as the “National Language” (國語), “Chinese” (中文), or the “Han Language” (漢語), Hokkien is often also referred to as “Taiwanese” or “Tâi-gí” (台語). People who refer to the language as Hokkien often do so because they feel the name ‘Taiwanese’ belittles the other languages spoken on the island while the opposing side considers the term “Hokkien” inadequate because it refers to a variation of the language spoken in China, and not a language that is part of the beating heart of Taiwan’s modern identity. I’m not here to tell you what name you should use to refer to the language. That’s entirely up to you, and no matter what term you prefer, you’re not likely to end up insulting anyone.

Obviously, many things have changed since the seventeenth century, and both China and Taiwan have developed separately, and in their own ways. Shifting away from the divergence of the language, one of the other more noticeable areas where the two countries share some similarities, yet also diverge at the same time (at least from the perspective here in Taiwan) is with regard to the way Hokkien architectural design, and its adherence to cultural folklore is both created and celebrated.

One claim you’ll often hear on this side of the Taiwan strait is that Communism, and more specifically, the Cultural Revolution (文化大革命) resulted in an irreparable amount of damage to traditional Chinese cultural values and traditions, whereas in Taiwan, you’ll discover that traditional culture is widely celebrated. Personally, having lived in both countries, I’d argue that this is a massive over-simplification of the issue, and not necessarily always the case, but it is true, especially in the case of religious practices, that many of the traditional cultural values that are widely practiced and accepted here in Taiwan have not fared as well in China over the past century.

If you’ve spent any time in Taiwan, it should be rather obvious that traditional culture is widely celebrated here, and most would agree that the nation is home to some of the most important examples of Hokkien architectural design and folklore that you’ll find anywhere in the world. This isn’t to say that you won’t find a considerable amount of traditional architectural design in China, or in immigrant communities in South East Asia, but no where will you find such a large concentration as in Taiwan.

Even though Taiwan has its own fair share of folklore and heroic figures, one aspect of Hokkien culture that you’ll find celebrated here is with regard to its cultural history, especially with events that took place in China hundreds, if not thousands of years ago. The historic events and legends that you’ll find displayed on the walls and roofs of these buildings across Taiwan are quite adept at putting that relationship on display. This is the case not only with the architectural and decorative elements of Taiwan’s temples, but also with regard to the local folk religion figures who are worshiped inside, many of whom are historic Hokkien figures who have been deified for their heroic actions, but for the large part, have never stepped foot in Taiwan.

So, even though the topic might be uncomfortable for some, it doesn’t change the fact that Taiwan’s rich cultural history has been guided in part by immigrants from China, who brought with them their cultural values. That being said, even though the two sides of the strait share links with regard to culture, language and ethnicity, that doesn’t mean that they inextricably linked with one another, or that one side has the right to claim sovereignty over the other.

Link: As Taiwan’s Identity Shifts, Can the Taiwanese Language Return to Prominence? (Ketagalan Media)

Whether you refer to the language as ‘Taiwanese’ or ‘Hokkien,’ it is estimated to be spoken (to some degree) by at least 81.9% of the Taiwanese population today, and while it was once more commonly associated with older generation, and informal settings, Taiwanese has become part of a newly formed national identity. In recent years, the youth of the country have embraced the language as a means of differentiating themselves not only from the neighbors across the strait, but the Chinese Nationalist Party (國民黨), which ruled over Taiwan with an iron fist for half a century prior to democratization. Sorry Youth (拍謝少年), EggplantEgg (茄子蛋) and AmazingBand (美秀劇團) are just a few examples of some of the musical groups that perform primarily in Taiwanese, and television production has gone from low-budget soap operas for the older generation to contemporary large-budget Netflix-level productions that have become pop-culture hits.

Link: Beyond Pop-Culture: Towards Integrating Taiwanese into Daily Life (Taiwan Gazette)

The resurgence of Taiwanese since the end of Martial Law, however, is just one area where traditional ‘Hokkien’ culture has experienced a revival. One of the more admirable things about Taiwan, and is something that is (arguably) missing in China, is the amount of civil activism that takes place here. In China, for example, if the government proposes urban renewal plans that will ultimately destroy heritage structures, and displace people from their homes, there isn’t all that much in terms of opposition (this has been changing in recent years), but here in Taiwan, people have little patience for this sort of behavior, and are very vocal and willing to take to the streets to vigorously fight for the preservation of the nation’s heritage structures. Some might argue that this level of civic participation slows development, but when a government at any level is held to account, it is a good thing isn’t it?

Given that most the oldest heritage buildings that you’re likely to find in Taiwan today, are of Hokkien origin, what you’ll experience at some of the historic buildings that have become popular tourist attractions is a showcase in the masterful beauty of this style of architectural design. The Lin An Tai Mansion (林安泰古厝) in Taipei and the Lin Family Mansion (板橋林家花園) in Taoyuan are just two examples of historic mansions that have been restored and opened to the public in recent years. Similarly, places of worship, where this style of design shines at its brightest, such as Taipei’s Longshan Temple (艋舺龍山寺) and Bao-An Temple (大龍峒保安宮) are highly regarded as two of the most important specimens of Hokkien-style architecture anywhere in the world.

While the examples above are just a few of the more well-known destinations for tourists here in the north, its also true that no matter where you’re traveling in the country, you won’t find yourself too far from an example of this well-preserved style of architectural beauty. So, now that I’ve got that long-winded disclaimer out of the way, let’s start talking about what makes Taiwan’s Hokkien-style architecture so prolific.

Taiwanese Hokkien-Style Architecture (臺灣閩南建築)

Before I start, it’s probably important to note that Hokkien-style architecture in Taiwan shares similar elements of design with many of the other traditional styles of Southern Chinese architectural design. You may find yourself asking what makes this particular style of design so special and you’d probably also expect a long and complex answer, but that’s not actually the case. What stands out with regard to this architectural style is that (almost) every building is a celebration of their culture, history and folklore - and the means by which these celebrations are depicted is through a decorative style of art that is most common among the Hokkien people.

While its true that the Hokkien people who migrated to Taiwan originated in Southern China, and it’s also true that you’ll find some of these design elements adorning traditional buildings there as well, as I mentioned earlier, during the period that the two have been split, alterations to the style and the method for which these things are constructed have changed. Today, Taiwan is home to a much greater volume of buildings making use of this architectural design, and the Hokkien craftspeople here have perfected their art as they have adapted to their new environs, with modern construction techniques streamlining the process.   

In this section, I’m not going to focus on specific construction techniques or the materials used to construct buildings. Instead, I’m going to focus on two elements that define Hokkien style architecture: The Swallowtail Roof (燕尾脊), and the cut-porcelain mosaic (剪瓷雕) decorative designs, both of which are the means by which the Hokkien people so eloquently tell their stories.

The Swallowtail Ridge (燕尾脊)

If you’ve been following my blog for any period of time, you’re probably well-aware that I spend quite a bit of time describing the architectural design of the roofs of the places I visit. For locals, these things are probably just normal aspects of life, so I doubt they put much effort into thinking about the mastery of their architectural design, but for me (and possibly you if you’re reading this), a foreigner, whenever I see these impressive roofs, whether they’re covering a Hokkien or Hakka building, or a Japanese-era structure, I’m always in awe of the work that goes into constructing them.

For most of us westerners, a roof is just a roof, it doesn’t really do all that much other than cover your house, and protect you from the elements. Here in Taiwan, though, when buildings are constructed, a lot of thought and consideration goes into the design, especially when it comes to the decorative elements that are added. So, even though the Hokkien-style Swallowtail Ridge roof has become one of the more common styles of traditional architectural design that you’ll find here in Taiwan, they’re still quite amazing to behold.

The ‘swallow’ (燕子) is a pretty common species of bird here in Taiwan, so common in fact that as I’m sitting in a coffee shop writing this article, there are about twenty of them relaxing on a power line just outside the window. Even though swallows are considered to be quite beautiful, I’d (probably unfairly) compare them to crows back home in Canada. The biggest difference between the two, though, is that crows in Canada are considered pests, and if they construct a nest near your home, you do your best to get rid of it. In Taiwan on the other hand, if a pair of swallows construct a nest near your home it is considered to be good luck and people will often make an effort to ensure that the nest is safe, and that that babies won’t fall to their deaths.

With that in mind, it is common in Taiwan for people to say that ‘swallows always return to their nest,’ a metaphor for the feeling of ‘homesickness’ people have while living far away. Given that the Hokkien people are a well-traveled bunch, the swallow, and more specifically, the swallowtail roof is a reminder of home, childhood memories, and is one of the reasons why this is a style of design that never gets old, as it is so culturally entrenched in the hearts of the people here.

So what exactly is a Swallowtail Roof? Well, that answer is something that I personally found surprising.

Speaking to the different styles of roof mentioned earlier, before I give you the answer to the question above, it’s probably a good idea to provide some ideas of the common styles of architectural design that are common in Taiwan. I’ve seen estimations that there are at least sixty different variations of roof design common within Southern-Fujianese architecture, but those variations can be easily divided up into six specific styles of design, many of which can be found all over Taiwan today.

  1. Hip Roof Style (廡殿頂) - a style of roof with four slopes on the front, rear, left and right. It is the highest ranking of all of the styles of architectural design and is reserved only for palaces and places of worship. The National Theater and Concert Hall (國家兩廳院) at Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall are pretty good examples of this style of design.

  2. Hip-and-Gable Style (歇山頂) - One of the most common styles of roof design, the hip-and-gable roof is a three-dimensional combination of a two-sided hip and four-sided gable roof. Many of Taiwan’s places of worship, ancestral shrines, and historic mansions use this style. It is a style of architectural design that is thought to have originated during the Tang Dynasty (唐朝), and is used all over East Asia, most significantly in Japan.

  3. Pyramid-Roof Style (攢尖頂) - a style of roof that is more common for ‘auxiliary buildings’ rather than temples. You’ll often find this style of roof covering pavilions in parks, drum towers at temples, etc. Within this specific style, it is uncommon to encounter swallowtail designs, although they might be adorned with some of the porcelain art that I’ll introduce below.

  4. Hard Mountain Style (硬山頂) - a basic style of roof design that features two slopes on the front and rear of the building. This style of design is most common in Hokkien houses and mansions around Taiwan. Despite being more subdued compared to the other styles of roof, it is a functional and practical roof that is easily repaired.

  5. Overhanging Gable Style (懸山頂) - a style of roof that became common in Taiwan during the half century of Japanese Colonial rule. This type of roof is a variation of the hip-and-gable roof mentioned above and features steep sloping hips in the front and rear of the building with triangular ends on both sides of the building.

  6. Rolling Shed Roof (捲棚頂) - considered to be similar to both the Hard Mountain and Overhanging Gable styles above, this specific style of roof is common in historic homes in Taiwan, but doesn’t feature a vertical ridge on top.

Of the six styles of roof listed above, it has been most common for the Hokkien people to make use of the ‘Hip-and-Gable’, ‘Hard Mountain’, and more recently, the ‘Overhanging Gable’ styles of architectural designs for their homes and places of worship. Notably, these particular styles of design were the three that are most easily adapted to Hokkien decorative elements, and the natural environment of Southern Fujian and Taiwan. It’s important to remember that in both of these coastal areas, any building that was constructed would have to be able to respond to the area’s natural environment and thus, sloping roofs like these helped to ensure that they were protected from periods of torrential rain.

Ultimately, the alterations that the Hokkien people made were to better fit their needs in ways that were both functional and decorative at the same time. To answer the question above, though, one thing that doesn’t often get mentioned in literature about Hokkien ‘Swallowtail Roofs’ is that they’re not actually a specific style of architectural roof design. In fact, the so-called ‘swallowtail’ is just a decorative modification of a traditional style of roof. The ‘swallowtail’ as we know it today, though, comes with several additions and decorative elements to a roof’s design that helps to ensure its cultural authenticity.

Obviously, the most important aspect is the curved ‘swallowtail ridge’ (燕尾脊 / tshio-tsit) located at the top of the roof of a building. With both ends of the ridge curving upwards, it is a design that is likened to the shape of a sharp crescent moon, and the straight lines on the ridge add beautiful symmetry to a structure. The Mid-Section (頂脊 / 正脊) of the curved ridge tends to be flat, and is an important section of the swallowtail where decorative elements are placed that assist in identifying the purpose of the building. The curved ridge also features a flat section facing outward, known as the ‘Ridge Spine’ (西施脊), where you’ll often find an incredible amount of decorative elements in the form of Hokkien cut porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕). Connecting to the ridge spine, you’ll also find Vertical Ridges (規帶) running down both the eastern and western sides of the sloping roof. These ridges are functional in that they help to keep the roof tiles locked in place, but they’re also decorative in that they feature platforms (牌頭) on the ends where you’ll find even more elaborate decorative additions.

Finally, one of the more indicative elements of Hokkien style roofs are the red tiles that cover the roof. As mentioned earlier, it is important for these roofs to be able to take care of rain water, so you’ll notice that these roofs feature what appear to be curved lines of tiles that look like tubes running down the roof. Between the tube-like tiles (筒瓦), there are also flat tiles (板瓦), which are meant to allow rainwater to flow smoothly down the roof. Crafted in kilns with Taiwanese red clay, the tiles might not seem all that important, but they do offer the opportunity to add more decorative elements in that the tube-like tiles have circular ends (瓦當) where you’ll find a myriad of designs depending on the building.

Suffice to say, when it comes to the addition of a swallowtail ridge to a building’s roof, there are a number of considerations that factor into their construction. The length, degree of curvature and decorative elements are all aspects of the design that are carefully planned, but are mostly determined by the size of a building, and more importantly the amount of money that is willing to be spent.

You’ll probably notice that the grander the swallowtail, or the number of layers to a building’s roof, is usually a pretty good indication of how important a place of worship is, or the deities who are enshrined within. In Taipei, Longshan Temple (艋舺龍山寺) is probably one of the best examples of the grandeur of a historic temple of importance, while the recently reconstructed Linkou Guanyin Temple (林口竹林山觀音寺) is probably one of the best examples of the spectacular things one can do with this style of design if you have deep enough pockets to throw at it.

Cut porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕)

Hokkien-style ‘Cut Porcelain Carvings’ come in several variations, each of which represent different themes or types of objects that are considered culturally or historically significant to the community, and the local environment. The art of cut porcelain carvings is thought to have been brought to Taiwan by Hokkien immigrants at some point in the seventeenth century, and while there are arguments as to whether Taiwan’s porcelain art originated in Chaozhou (潮州), Quanzhou (泉州) or Zhangzhou (漳州), it’s important to note that the craftsmen in Taiwan today have made a number of alterations to the traditional style which makes it difficult to determine the origin.

So, let’s just call it Taiwanese, then?

Another reason why its difficult to know how the decorative art arrived in Taiwan is due to the fact that authorities during the Qing Dynasty placed a ban on migration across the strait, which means that it was likely brought by undocumented migrants who fled the political situation in China, possibly during the late stages of the Ming Dynasty (明朝) when Koxinga (鄭成功) and his pirate navy arrived on the island given that they set off from the port in Amoy, which is today Xiamen City (廈門市) in Fujian.

One would think that this traditional style of art might be suffering from a lack of craftsmen in the modern era, few homes today are constructed in the traditional Hokkien style of architectural design, but you’d probably be surprised to learn that the creation of this cut porcelain art remains a thriving business in Taiwan, with newly constructed temples requiring new designs in addition to the thousands of already well-established places of worship across the country requiring some restoration work. Suffice to say, the creation of these carvings takes a considerable amount of time and craftsmanship, which also means that they’re quite expensive. Thus, you’ll find several large and well-known workshops owned by craftsmen, who have been working in the field for generations, but you’ll also find people who have branched out on their own and started creating their own work.

‘Cut porcelain carvings’, which are likened to life-like mosaics, are essentially a collage of small pieces of porcelain fixed to a pre-formed plaster shape, craftsmen recycle material from bowls, plates and pots, which they then crush into smaller pieces, dye with bright colors, and then attach to an object, which could be human-like figures, animals, flowers, etc. Decorative in nature, the carvings are also considered to represent themes such as ‘good luck’, ‘good fortune’, ‘longevity’, ‘protection’, etc.

As mentioned earlier, one of the major differences between the traditional Hokkien art and what’s practiced today is that artisans first form an object with wire frames that are then covered in high quality plaster with the porcelain then glued on top, which is a method that helps to ensure longevity.

When it comes to these carvings, you’ll have to keep in mind that what you’ll see really depends on the specific kind of building you’re looking at, and where you are, as the decorative elements tend to vary between different regions in Taiwan. With a wide variation of decorative elements, what you’ll see depicted on a Buddhist temple, Taoist temple, or even on a mansion may include some of the following elements:

Human Elements: The Three Stars (福祿壽), Magu (麻姑), the Eight Immortals (八仙), Nezha (哪吒), the Four Heavenly Kings (四大天王), Mazu (媽祖), Guanyin (觀音), and depictions of stores from the ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms’ (三國演義) and the ‘Journey to the West’ (西遊記), etc.

Animals and Mythical Creatures: Phoenixes (龍鳳), dragons (龍), peacocks (孔雀), Aoyu (鰲魚), carp (鯉魚), Qilin (麒麟), lions, elephants, tigers, leopards, horses, etc.

Floral and Fruit Elements: Peonies (牡丹), lotuses (蓮花), narcissus flowers (水仙), plum blossoms (梅花), orchids (蘭花), bamboo (竹子), chrysanthemum (菊花), pineapples, wax apples, grapes, etc.

While some of these elements are quite straight-forward, quite a few of them are completely foreign to people who aren’t from Taiwan, so I’ll offer an introduction to some of the most important of the ‘Cut Porcelain’ decorative elements.

The Three Stars (三星 / 福祿壽)

One of the more common roof-decorations you’ll find in Taiwan are the depictions of the three elderly figures at the top-center of a swallowtail roof. Known as the ‘Sanxing’ (三星), which is literally translated as the ‘three stars’, you might also hear them referred to as ‘Fulushou’ (福祿壽), a Mandarin play-on words for ‘Fortune’, ‘Longevity’ and ‘Prosperity’.

In this case, Fu (福), Lu (祿), and Shou (壽) appear as human-like figures and are regarded as the masters of the three most important celestial bodies in Chinese astrology, Jupiter, Ursa Major and Canopus. When you see the ‘Sanxing’ on top of a temple, they appear as three bearded wise men. Coincidentally they might also look a bit familiar to the average observer as ‘Fuxing’ (福星) is depicted as Yang Cheng (楊成), a historic figure from the Tang Dynasty, while ‘Luxing’ (綠星) is represented by the ‘God of Literature’ (文昌帝君), and Shouxing (壽星), who is represented by Laozi (老子), the founder of Taoism.

Within Chinese iconography, these ‘three wise men’ are quite common, and their images can be found throughout China, Vietnam and South East Asia. Here in Taiwan, you’ll most often find them adorning the apex of a Taoist or Taiwanese Folk Religion Temple.

The Double-Dragon Pagoda (雙龍寶塔)

Known by a number of names in both Mandarin and English, the ‘Double-Dragon Pagoda’ (雙龍寶塔) or the ‘Double Dragon Prayer Hall’ (雙龍拜塔) is essentially a multi-layered pagoda that is similarly placed at the top-center of a Buddhist temple, or a mixed Buddhist-Taiwanese folk-religion place of worship.

As usual, while acting as a decorative element, the pagoda also represents a number of important themes - it is used as a method of ‘warding off evil spirits’ and for disaster prevention, in addition to representing both filial piety and virtue. For Buddhists in particular, pagodas have been important buildings with regard to the safe-keeping of sacred texts, so having the dual dragons encircling the pagoda in this way can also be interpreted as ‘protecting the Buddha’ or ‘precious things’.

Whenever you encounter a temple with one of these Double-Dragon Pagodas, if you look closely, the pagoda will have several levels, with two green dragons on either side, or encircling it. In Mandarin, there’s a popular idiom that says “It is better to save a life than to build a seven-level pagoda” (救人一命、勝造七級浮屠), so having the dragons protecting the pagoda speaks to the salvation one might receive while visiting the temple as it is protected by dragons from the heavens. That being said, the number of levels you see on the pagoda is also quite important as the number of levels indicates the rank of the deity enshrined within the temple.

Double-Dragon Clutching Pearls (雙龍搶珠)

One of the other common images depicted in the center of a roof of a temple is the ubiquitous ‘Double-Dragon Clutching Pearls’ design. However, unlike the two mentioned above, when it comes to the dragons clutching pearls, there is a wide variation of designs, so even though it’s a common theme found on Taoist places of worship, you may not encounter the exact same design very often. Nevertheless, no matter how they might vary in appearance, what always remains the same is that there will be a glowing red pearl in the middle with dragons on either side.

Originating from an ancient folklore story, the image of two dragons surrounding a pearl is something that you’ll find not only on temples like this, but in paintings, carved in jade, and various other forms of artwork.

The origin of the story is a long one, so I’ll try my best to briefly summarize how the image became popularized - essentially, a long time ago, a group of fairies were attacked by a demon while resting near a sacred pond only to be saved by a pair of green dragons. When the ‘Queen Mother of the West’ (王母娘娘) heard about this, she gifted the two dragons with a golden pearl that would grant one of them immortality.

Neither of the dragons wanted to take the pearl, showing great humility to each other, so after a while the Jade Emperor (玉皇) gifted them a second pearl. Afterwards, the dragons devoted their immortality to helping others, and used their power to send wind and rain to assist with the harvest.

Thus, when it comes to this particular image, what you’ll want to keep in mind is that they are meant to highlight themes of ‘harmony’, ‘prosperity’, ‘humility’, ’good luck’ and the ‘pursuit of a better life,’ which makes them a perfect addition to a place of worship.

Dragons and Aoyu (雙龍 / 鰲魚)

In addition to being featured at the top-center of a roof, you’ll also find cut-porcelain depictions of dragons located in various other locations on the exterior of a Hokkien-style building. By this point, I’d only be repeating myself if I went into great detail about the purpose of the dragons, but it’s important to note that the ‘dragon’ is something that is synonymous with traditional Chinese culture, and given that people of Chinese ethnic origin consider themselves to be ‘descendants of the dragon’ (龍的傳人), and the emperors themselves regarded as reincarnations of dragons, they are particularly important within the cultural iconography of the greater-China region.

In the English-language, dragons are merely dragons, but in Mandarin, there are a multitude of names to describe these mythical creatures in their various forms. Similarly, for most westerners, dragons are regarded as fire-breathing monsters, but within Chinese culture, their roles are completely reversed. Dragons are noted for their power over water and nature, and instead of being aggressive creatures that bring about death and destruction, they’re known for their good deeds.

Most commonly found adorning the main ridge and at both of the ends, the cut-porcelain depictions of dragons that you’ll encounter on roofs in Taiwan are often the most complex decorative elements on a building and are meant to symbolize power, enlightenment and protection, especially with regard to their ability to prevent fire. The most common dragon that you’ll find adorning the roofs of Taiwan’s places of worship are of the ‘hornless-dragon mouth’ or ‘chiwen’ (鴟吻) variety. Translated literally as ‘owl mouth’, this type of dragon is known as one of the ‘Nine Dragons’ (九龍), each of which are known for specific protective functions. In this case, ‘chiwen’ dragons are known for their affinity for swallowing things, especially fire. They’re depicted as hornless dragons, with fish-like, truncated bodies, large wide-open mouths, and colorful scale-like spikes all over their bodies.

That being said, if you look closely at the ‘dragons’ that adorn the top of temple roofs, you might notice that they’re not always of the ‘chiwen’ variety and are often a complex fusion of other mythical creatures. While these creatures almost always appear with a dragon’s head, fooling most people, you’ll find that they may also feature the body of a phoenix, tortoise, horse, etc.

Similarly, sometimes what you might think is a dragon actually isn’t a dragon at all.

Which to tell the truth, can often be quite confusing if you’re not adept at examining the finer details of these decorative elements.

Even though these other creatures appear dragon-like, especially with regard to the ‘chiwen’ variety, its very likely that you’ve encountered another common variety of Hokkien cut-porcelain decorative elements. Depicting a mythical creature known as an “Aoyu” (鰲魚), these creatures feature a dragon head and animal body fusion. An ‘Aoyu’ is basically a ‘carp’ that is in the process of transforming into a dragon. With one foot in the door regard to the transformation process, an Aoyu features the head of a dragon, but maintains the body of a fish. Similar to the role that the chiwen play, you’ll often find Aoyu featured on both of the ends of the roof’s ridge as they’re likewise known for their ability to ‘swallow fire and spit water’ meaning that they’re also there to offer protection to the temple.

Of all the cut-porcelain art that you’ll find decorating places of worship in Taiwan, you’ll probably notice that the dragons are often the most complex in terms of their design and the attention to detail that goes into crafting their images. The complexity of the dragon’s head and the spiky-scales on their bodies require a tremendous amount of work, which should highlight just how important they are.

Cut-Porcelain Decorative Murals

While the larger cut-porcelain decorative elements are much easier to identify, you’ll also notice that there are smaller, yet very elaborate mural-like decorations located along the roof’s main ridge, on the ridge platform and on the lower sections of the roof. Even though almost every place of worship in Taiwan features these types of murals, they are often quite small, and you have to look very carefully to actually identify them. If you find yourself traveling the country with a local friend, unless they’re a temple experts, it’s safe to say they won’t be much help in identify what story these murals are depicting, which is part of the reason why these things can be so confusing. If you find yourself really interested in knowing exactly what was going on, you’d be better off asking one of the temple volunteers inside, or trying to find the information online.

Even though there is a wide variation of stories that each of these murals depict, they generally illustrate the following themes: Mythology (神話), events from the Investiture of the Gods (封神演義), events from the Spring and Autumn Period (春秋時期), events from the Chu–Han War (楚漢戰爭), events from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms (三國演義), events from the Journey to the West (西遊記), Buddhist stories (佛的故事), and finally, Taiwanese Folklore Stories (台灣神明傳說).

To highlight the complexity of identifying what these murals depict, if I use the ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms’ as an example, the novel is over 800,000 words long, features 120 chapters, and more than a thousand characters. So, even if someone tells you that the mural is depicting a story from the novel, you’d have to be quite well-versed in Chinese Classics to be able to identify the specific event.

However, when it comes to the local stories that you’ll find depicted on these buildings, you’re going to find murals depicting events in the lives of the most popular religious figures in Taiwan, and those that hail from the Hokkien homeland. Some of these stories are likely to include: Mazu conquering Thousand-Mile-Eye and Wind-Following Ear (媽祖收千順二將軍), Mazu Assisting Koxinga (媽祖幫助鄭成功), Tangshan Crosses the Taiwan Strait (唐山過臺灣), the Eight Immortals Depart and Travel to the East (八仙出處東遊記), the Eight Immortals Cross the Sea (八仙過海), etc. Similarly, it’s important to note that while these events are often depicted with the help of Hokkien cut-porcelain art, you’ll also find them carved into wood, painted on walls, and carved in stone.

If you’ve ever seen a Lonely Planet, or any travel guide about Taiwan for that matter, its very likely that you’ve seen a photo of one of a cut-porcelain dragon in the foreground with Taipei 101 in the background. While it may seem cliche at this point, the mixture of these two elements helps to illustrate both the traditional and modern fusion of contemporary life in Taiwan today.

The Hokkien people make up an estimated seventy-five percent of Taiwan’s population today, so even though it may seem like they are the predominant cultural force on the island, its also important to remember that the modifications that have been made to their style of design over the years have adapted elements of Taiwan’s other cultural groups, including the island’s Indigenous people, the Hakka’s, etc.

What you’ll see in Taiwan today, while similar to that of Southern Fujian is a style of architectural design that has been refined to meet the needs of the people of Taiwan, and thus, no matter where you fall on the argument of ‘Hokkien vs. Taiwanese’, it goes without saying that this style of design has become ubiquitous as an aspect of the cultural identity of the Taiwanese nation today.

Obviously, as I mentioned earlier, this article is only touching on the top of the iceberg when it comes to this topic. Sadly, it remains a topic that isn’t widely accessible in the English-language, and information tends to be hard to come by. Still, I hope it helps clear up any questions any of you may have with regard to what you’re seeing when you visit a temple or historic building in Taiwan during your travels. If not, feel free to leave a comment, or send an email, and I’ll do my best to answer any other questions you may have.

References

  1. Taiwanese Hokkien | 臺灣話 (Wiki)

  2. Hokkien culture | 閩南文化 (Wiki)

  3. Hokkien Architecture | 闽南传统建筑 (Wiki)

  4. Architecture of Taiwan | 臺灣建築 (Wiki)

  5. 剪瓷雕 | 燕尾脊 (Wiki)

  6. 台灣建築裡的秘密:從天后宮到行天宮,每間寺廟都是活生生的台灣移民史 (Buzz Orange)

  7. 極具特色的北方歇山式屋頂 ,硬山與廡殿式的結合,仙人騎鶴帶頭鎮守 (廟宇藝術)

  8. 台灣傳統民居簡介 (文山社區大學)

  9. 最常見的動物裝飾 (老古板的古建築之旅)

  10. 台灣民間信仰 (Wiki)


Jiantian Historic Temple (劍潭古寺)

No matter where you go in Taiwan, it’s highly likely that you’ll encounter a 7-11 or a temple along the way - finding either is about as simple as finding a cup of coffee, and when you’re a tourist, you’re blessed with a multitude of choices to compete for your precious, but limited travel time.

For most people, visiting one or two of what are considered Taipei’s ‘Top Three’ temples is more than enough ‘temple-time’ during a short visit to Taiwan, but there are a number of impressive places of worship in the capital, as well as around the country, where tourists can spend time learning more about the history and culture of this country than they ever will in most of its museums.

I’ve been writing about Taiwan for almost a decade now, and even though I’ve spent a considerable amount of time recommending that people travel outside of the capital in order to better understand, and enjoy all that this beautiful country has to offer, it’s also important to face the fact that not every tourist has the opportunity, or the time to make their way down south. So even though I’d personally highly recommend anyone who visits Taiwan to pay a visit to Tainan’s Confucius Temple, its Grand Mazu Temple or Lukang’s Longshan Temple over most of the places of worship on the ‘Top Three’ list above, like I said, not everyone has the ability to leave Taipei.

Fortunately, there are a number of historic places of worship within the Greater-Taipei area that wonderfully compliment the city’s so-called ‘Top Three’ temples, so if you’ve discovered, like I have, an interest in visiting this sort of destination, here are some of the others I recommend checking out while you’re in town:

Today, I’m going to introduce another one of the city’s more prominent places of worship, and one that should be on your list of places to visit if you have some extra time while you’re in town. Boasting a history that is arguably longer than any other place of worship in Taipei, there’s certainly something special about this temple, but to tell the truth, it’s also somewhat of a confusing place as even locals have a difficult time understanding its significance.

Most commonly referred to either as Jiantan Temple (劍潭寺), or Jiantan Historic Temple (劍潭古寺), what I personally find interesting about this temple is the addition of the word “ancient” or “historic” (古) to its title in both Chinese and in English. There are surprisingly very few places of worship in Taiwan that make the concerted effort to put the word ‘historic’ directly in their name - although in some cases I think they’d prefer you just assume that’s the case - nevertheless, as one of Taipei’s ‘first’ places of worship, this one holds a special place within the history of the city.

The other thing that I think is important to point out about the name of this temple is the name ‘Jiantan’ (劍潭), which is probably confusing for tourists who might not be so familiar with Taipei’s geography. These days, the name ‘Jiantan’ is more or less synonymous with the Jiantan MRT Station (劍潭捷運站), which is home to Shilin Night Market (士林夜市), another one of Taipei’s most popular tourist destinations. Unfortunately, if you’re thinking that a visit to this temple could be combined with a visit to the night market, you might be disappointed. It’s actually not that close.

Never fear, though, as I move on below, I’ll provide a detailed explanation of the temple’s confusing history, how you can get there, all of which should help anyone who reads this better understand the temple, its special architectural design, and ultimately the history of the area we refer to as ‘Jiantan’ today. Before I start though, I have to say that even though this temple is one of the city’s oldest places of worship, it unfortunately doesn’t receive as much attention as it deserves, and very little has been written about it in the English-language, so I hope this article answers any questions you might have about it.

Jiantan Temple (劍潭古寺)

Legend has it that during the 17th Century, while Koxinga (鄭成功) and his army were sailing up the Keelung River, on their way to remove the Dutch from the island, they came upon a sudden and massive storm caused by river serpents. Attempting to prevent them from going any further, the storm was so violent that many in the army wanted to turn around. Koxinga, being the ever-so-clever pirate and experienced captain, was undeterred by the serpent’s interference in his plans, drew his sword and subdued the serpent. However, while in the midst of the fierce battle, his ‘sword’ was lost in the deep pool of water where the serpent lived.

For those of you who are unaware, the words “jian” (劍) and “tan" (潭) when put together basically translate as “Sword Pool” or “Sword Pond,” so even though the Koxinga legend is just local folklore, he was such a prolific figure in Taiwan’s history that a story about him mistakenly dropping his sword into a pool of water was reason enough to give a place a name.

Obviously, when it comes to the origin of the name, historians point to factual events that took place between Dutch traders, and the local indigenous people, but with regard to this temple, the legend of Koxinga is of particular note as you’ll discover later.

Its important to note that there was once a pond along the banks of the Keelung River that had been referred to as “Jiantan” for several hundred years. Located at a point of the river where the it curves between the areas we know today as Dazhi (大直) and Shilin (士林), that pond has since disappeared due to river diversion projects that sought to control water levels and prevent parts of the city from flooding during typhoons.

Today, the area we refer to as Jiantan covers several hundred hectares of land within the city, and even has a mountain that shares the same name.

Link: Jiantan Mountain (劍潭山)

Jiantan Temple during the Japanese-era

If one legend weren’t enough, another explains that in 1634 (崇禎7年), a monk named Huarong (僧侶華榮和尚) was dispatched from his monastery on Putuo Mountain (普陀山) to deliver a stone statue of Guanyin to Taiwan. Arriving in Taiwan at the port in Tamsui (淡水), he continued south on the road to Keelung (基隆), but along the path he encountered a massive red snake that was blocking the way. Personally, I’m not particularly a huge fan of snakes, and if I encountered one while hiking in Taiwan, I’d likely turn around, but for Huarong, this was deemed as an auspicious event.

Note: The number ‘eight’ is an auspicious number for Buddhists, referring to either the Dharma Wheel (法陀) or the Eight Great Bodhisattvas.

Instead of taking off like I would have done, he set up camp for the night where the Buddha appeared before him in his dreams and instructed him to go to the local port (probably in Bangka), and solicit donations from eight merchant captains. When he woke up, he made his way to the port where he came across the eight ships in his dream and when the merchants on the ships heard his story, they donated graciously to his cause. With the money donated by the local merchants, Huarong had a thatched hut built on the location where he came across the red snake, and that became the home of the Guanyin Statue, instead of its original destination in Keelung.

Later, in the early eighteenth century, the thatched hut, which had become known as the Guanyin Pavilion (觀音亭) was replaced by a more formal temple, known as the “Western Temple” (西方寶剎). That name, however, wasn’t one that would remain for very long as the temple was renamed Jiantan Temple (劍潭寺) in 1746 (乾隆11年).

Over the next century, Jiantan Temple became one of the more prominent Buddhist temples in northern Taiwan, resulting in a number of restoration and expansion projects to accommodate the number of monks who came to serve at the temple. Then, when the abbot of the Bangka Longshan Temple (艋舺龍山寺) took administrative control of the temple, he once again oversaw another expansion project that would not only benefit Jiantan Temple, but Longshan Temple as well with monks being able to travel back and forth between two of northern Taiwan’s most important temples.

For the next half century, things more or less stayed the same at the temple, but when the Japanese took control of Taiwan in 1895 (明治28年), the situation changed almost overnight. When the Governor General of Taiwan, Kodama Gentaro (兒玉源太郎) requested monks from the Rinzai school (臨濟宗) of Zen Buddhism to come to Taiwan to promote Japanese Buddhism, the influence of Japanese-style Buddhism started taking over on the island, and Jiantan Temple was promptly converted into a Myoshin Temple (妙心寺).

Link: Huguo Rinzai Temple (臨濟護國禪寺)

The interesting thing to keep in mind was that during the Meiji Restoration (明治維新), which started decades before the Japanese took control of Taiwan, Buddhism was classified by the government as a source of foreign interference. It was during this time that the more than a thousand year old tradition of fusion between Buddhism and Shinto were forcibly separated with the Buddhist temples that were constructed next to Shinto Shrines torn down. Here in Taiwan, though, Buddhism, had a long established a foothold on the island thanks to places of worship like Jiantan Temple, thus they became one of the tools that the Japanese authorities used to help bring the two peoples together.

Ironic given that Buddhism was suppressed back in Japan.

From the outset, the Japanese brought Buddhist monks with them to serve roles within the military as ‘chaplain-missionaries’, offering spiritual guidance during the initial years of the occupation. In addition to serving the military, the monks began to construct language schools and charity hospitals where they would focus on improving the lives of average Taiwanese citizens as well as promoting Japanese-style Buddhism. Over the next few decades, the temple continued to grow, and between 1918 and 1924, the temple was completely reconstructed, making use of modern construction techniques to ensure its longevity. The irony however was that just over a decade after the rebuild was completed, the temple was then forced to relocate due to an expansion project at the Taiwan Grand Shrine (臺灣神宮), which was also located on Jiantan Mountain (劍潭山) to the rear of the temple.

With insufficient funds available for the construction of a new temple, the administration came up with a plan to have the buildings completely deconstructed, and then reconstructed with the materials that could be salvaged in a new location. Migrating several kilometers away to the Dazhi (大直) area, the temple was carefully put back together again. However, the new plot of land that was allocated for the temple wasn’t nearly as larger as the original space, so alterations had to be made, and as you may have noticed from the historic photo above, it is considerably smaller today.

In its current location for nearly a century, Jiantan has been restored several times, repairing elements of the temple that have allowed it to remain intact while also bringing it back to life by refining the building’s decorative elements which were once its defining features.

As one of Taipei’s first major places of worship, predating many of the capital’s other major temples, Jiantan Temple has a long and storied history and while it’s not uncommon for places of worship to be moved to a new location, the experience of deconstructing the temple and sending putting it back together in another location is reminiscent of the nearby Lin An Tai Mansion (林安泰古厝), which had a similar experience.

In 2004 (民國93年), Jiantan Temple was officially recognized by the Taipei City Government under the Cultural Heritage Preservation Act (文化資產保存法) as a protected heritage building (歷史建築).

Link: 臺北市歷史建築列表 (List of Taipei City Protected Heritage Buildings)

Whether you refer to this temple as Jiantan Temple (劍潭寺) or Jiantan Ancient Temple (劍潭古寺), it’s up to you, but one of the things that sets this one apart from many of the other historic temples around Taipei is that it features a little park where it proudly displays its history. Some of the objects within the park, mostly stone tablets and pillars are things that you probably won’t see anywhere else in the capital, but are much more common in Tainan where historic temples are found on almost every street corner. If you visit the temple, I highly recommend you take some time to check out some of the objects on display, even though they are admittedly pretty old and in some cases the words that have been etched on the stone have started to fade.

Deities Enshrined at Jiantan Temple

As you saw from the history detailed above, from the outset, Jiantian Temple was dedicated to Guanyin (觀音), the Chinese version of Avalokiteśvara, the Buddha of Compassion. With a statue brought directly from Putuo Mountain (普陀山), one of China’s four sacred Buddhist mountains, it shouldn’t be much of a surprise to anyone that the figures enshrined within the temple are for the most part, Buddhist. That being said, similar to what you’ll experience if you visit Bangka’s Longshan Temple, which is also primarily a Buddhist place of worship, over the years, figures from Chinese folk religion have been added over the years to the shrine. In Taiwan, this is something that has become quite common, so within the temple you’ll also find shrines dedicated to ‘deities’ who you won’t traditionally find in Buddhist temples elsewhere, especially in other countries where Buddhism is the predominant religion.

  • Guanyin (觀世音菩薩) - As noted earlier, Jiantan Temple was (historically) dedicated primarily to the Buddha of Compassion, Guanyin (觀音), one of the most prolific Buddhist figures in Taiwan. Within the shrine room, you’ll find several different statues dedicated to different incarnations of Guanyin, with two large statues of a sitting Guanyin on either side of the main shrine. The original statue has since been moved to a new location within the main shrine and is somewhat difficult to see amongst the crowd of Buddhist figures in the main shrine. The most important difference between the various statues of Guanyin is that the original is regarded as a ‘Child-Bearing Guanyin’ (送子觀音). In front of the historic statue, you’ll find a version of a sitting Guanyin and as is usually the case, she is accompanied by her two acolytes, a pair of children who went to her side while she was meditating at Mount Putuo, Longnu (龍女) and Shancai (善財童子).

  • Shakyamuni Buddha (釋迦牟尼) - In one of the most recent changes to the ‘ancient’ temple, a statue of Shakyamuni Buddha was added to the main shrine in the post-war period. The jade statue was added shortly after the Foguangshan Organization took over administrative control of the temple, which is something I’ll talk briefly about below. The statue holds a ‘seal’ (降魔印) for subjugating demons. The interesting thing about the statue is that its appearance isn’t typical for a Chinese-style Buddha statue. It appears more as if it came from South East Asia, more specifically the Myanmar area. It possibly came to Taiwan with Chinese refugees from the Yunnan region, but I’m not particularly sure about its origin. During my visit to the temple, I inquired about the design of the statue, and the person who I was talking to was surprised that I could tell the difference between an image of the Buddha from Myanmar compared to one that you’d typically find in Taiwan, but the explanation I received as to its origin wasn’t particularly convincing, and its likely that there were some politics involved that they didn’t really want to mention.

  • The Prince of Yanping (延平郡王) - Looking back to the legends of the naming of Jiantan, you might remember that one of the local folklore stories claims that Koxinga (鄭成功) threw his sword into the pond to dispatch a violent serpent that was preventing them from advancing. What I didn’t mention was that Koxinga would later go on to defeat the Dutch and proclaim a kingdom of his own in the south of Taiwan, known as the Kingdom of Tungning. Given that Koxinga’s legend shares a relationship with the local area, and his being deified in Taiwan after his death, it shouldn’t be a big surprise that there is a shrine dedicated in his honor at the temple. When you find a shrine dedicated to Koxinga in Taiwan, he’ll either be referred to as the Prince of Yanping (延平郡王), a title bestowed upon him by a Ming Emperor, or Kaishan Shengwang (開山聖王). Interestingly, if you climb Jiantan Mountain to the rear of the temple, you’ll find an entire temple dedicated to Koxinga, known as the Taipei Koxinga Temple (成功廟開臺聖王).

  • The Eighteen Arhats (十八羅漢) - On either side of the Main Hall, you’ll find wood-carved representations of the ‘Eighteen Arhats’, who are basically like the twelve disciples of Jesus. The original followers of the Buddha, the ‘Arthats’ are figures each of whom has attained enlightenment, but have dedicated their lives to being reincarnated on earth until everyone attains enlightenment. A common image in Taiwan, you’ll find nine of the arhats on each side of the shrine, and each of them appears quite differently, so you might want to take a moment to look at them as they are all interesting characters.

With regard to the statues in the shrine room, there has been somewhat of an unresolved controversy in recent years as the administration of the temple is now overseen by the large and powerful Foguangshan (佛光山) organization. The controversy revolves around a differing outlook between the followers of the original temple and the new organization that took over. Long story short, the main shrine was originally dedicated to Guanyin, but it was adjusted to provide a seat to the Shakyamuni Buddha, instead.

The historic statue of Guanyin was thus moved to a level below the Buddha, which, angered the followers of the temple. Likewise, some of the other statues of Guanyin that were originally in the temple were moved outside of the temple where they would get rained on and polluted from dirty air.

In the time since the controversy, which made headlines across the country, changes have been made to bring the statues of Guanyin back inside the temple, but the main shrine continues to place the Buddha in the main seat, which doesn’t particularly reflect the history of the temple.

Link: 主神換位 劍潭古寺主位觀音變佛陀 (TVBS)

Jiantan Ancient Temple Timeline

Obviously, Jiantan Temple couldn’t be considered an “ancient” temple if it didn’t have a long history. As one of the first Buddhist places of worship in Taipei, there is clearly a long and interconnected history that coincides with the development of Taiwan’s capital into the high-tech economic powerhouse that it is today. That being said, the history of the temple tends to be a little confusing, and not very well detailed in either Chinese or English. I’ve done my best to put together a list of events with regard to the temple’s history that should give readers an idea of the timeline of events over the past three centuries of its history.

Click the dropdown below to read more:

  • •1634 (崇禎7年) - Buddhist Monk Huarong (僧侶華榮和尚), travels to Taiwan from his monastery on the famed Putuo Mountain (普陀山) to welcome a stone statue of Guanyin to the island.

    •1718 (康熙57年) - A Buddhist temple named the ‘Western Temple’ (西方寶剎) was established along the banks of the Keelung River with Jiantan Mountain to its rear.

    1746 (乾隆11年) - Jiantan Temple (劍潭寺) is officially established.

    1773 (乾隆38年) - The temple goes through its first period of restoration.

    1800 (家慶5年) - The temple goes through another period of restoration.

    1836 (道光17年) - The temple goes through a period of expansion, making space for an official residence for the monks who stayed on-site.

    1843 (道光24年) - The abbot of Longshan Temple in Bangka assumes administrative control over the temple, and materials are donated to once again expand and restore the grounds.

    1895 (明治28年) - The Japanese Empire takes control of Taiwan.

    1899 (明治32年) - During the Japanese era, the temple became a Myoshin Temple (妙心寺), part of the Rinzai Sect (臨濟宗) of Japanese Buddhism.

    1914 (大正3年) - The monks living at the temple initiate a fundraising campaign to have the temple reconstructed.

    1918 (大正7年) - With the fund raising campaign completed, famed craftsman Chen Yingbin (陳應彬) is contracted to oversee a complete overhaul and redesign of the temple.

    1924 (大正13年) - The reconstruction project on the temple is completed, with a brand new traditionally Chinese-style design fused with Japanese elements and construction techniques.

    1937 (昭和12年) - Shortly after the expensive reconstruction of the temple is completed, an expansion project at the nearby Taiwan Grand Shrine (台灣神宮) forces the temple to relocate to another location a short distance away. Due to a lack of funds, the temple is more or less deconstructed, and then reconstructed in its original location.

    1945 (民國34年) The Second World War comes to an end and the Republic of China takes control of Taiwan

    1978 (民國67年) - A restoration project takes place, repairing and restoring some of the aging elements of the temple, and replacing the roof tiles with Taiwanese-style yellow tiles (黃色琉璃瓦).

    2004 (民國93年) - The temple is officially recognized as a protected heritage building (歷史建築).

    2007 (民國96年) - A restoration project takes place that restores the shape and design of the roof to its original 1924 design and all of the original decorative elements are carefully reproduced to reflect the original appearance of the temple.

    2017 (民國106年) - A newly constructed Guanyin Shrine is consecrated within the temple.

Architectural Design

The story of Jiantan Temple’s architectural design is a bit of a complicated one, and is something that you may have noticed in the timeline above has been altered several times, throughout its three-century long history. Over the years, the temple has been renovated, expanded, restored, reduced in size, and ultimately moved to an entirely new location.

Fortunately, thanks to the dedication of Japanese-era photographers, we have a pretty good idea of how it originally appeared prior to its migration, as you’ll have seen in some of those photos above. I’m not going to spend too much of your time talking about the temple’s past glory, or what is missing. Instead, I’m only going to focus on what you’ll experience when you visit today, which itself is a beautiful place of worship, full of complex design and decorative elements, some of which are uncommon in Taipei today.

If we take into consideration that the temple migrated to its current location during the Japanese-era, you’ll also discover that even though it maintains many traditional Taiwanese temple features, it is also a case-study in the fusion of Taiwanese-Japanese design of the era, which makes it quite special.

As I mentioned earlier, when the temple was forced to migrate, they lacked the necessary funds to construct an entirely new building. Thus, it was decided that instead of demolishing the original temple that they would have it deconstructed as carefully as possible in order to recycle the original materials to bring it back to life. Unfortunately, due to a lack of space on the plot of land that was allocated to the temple, and the difficulty of deconstructing the original, the end-result was a temple that was considerably smaller than the original.

The current design retains much of the original wood and stone that was used to construct the temple, which have been recycled. The size of the building is officially measured in ‘bays’ (開間), an ancient style of measurement that you won’t see mentioned very often in Taiwan these days, except for at historic places of worship like this. Essentially a ‘bay’ was the space between columns that held up the roof. Generally-speaking that was about 3.6 meters in length. Using this method, Jiantan Temple is officially eleven bays in length (面寬十一開間), which makes it just about 40 meters (131 feet) wide.

Keeping with the traditional design of a Hokkien-style temple, the facade of Jiantan Temple resembles that of the Front Hall (前殿) at Lukang’s famed Longshan Temple (鹿港龍山寺) in that it features a ‘Five Door Hall” (五門殿) style of design. In this style of design, there is a central wing that features the temple’s three main doors, with separate ‘dragon’ and ‘tiger’ wings (龍虎翼廊) on either side. Both of the wings feature a Swallow-Tail Roof (燕尾屋脊), which are equal in height, while the central portion is much higher. This style of roof, which is indicative of Hokkien-style architectural design differs from the typical style of ‘hip-and-gable’ roof that you’ll find at many Chinese, Japanese or Korean-style Buddhist temples. Yet it is one of the most common styles of architectural design with regard to the historic temples, mansions and ancestral halls around Taiwan.

Essentially, a ‘Swallow-Tail Roof’ is a roof that features an upward-curving ridge, resembling the tail of a swallow, and is typically adorned with a number of decorative elements, which are most often porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕). Depending on the amount of cash you have available, and how much you want to show off your wealth, this style of roof could be either single or dual-layered to add even more complexity. In this particular case, you might think with the varying heights between the wings and the central portion of the building that it is dual-layered, but it’s actually only a single-layer roof as the roofs over the wings are independent of the other. Nevertheless, despite the curvature of each of the roofs being one of their key features, you’ll notice that the mid-section is the most prominent as the two wings only feature half-curves, and neither of them reach as high as the mid-section.

One area where the Hokkien-style Swallow-Tail roof resembles that of a hip-and-gable roof is that the roof eclipses the base of the building in size, extending well beyond the front of the building. Thus, to help support the weight of the roof, you’ll find a number of pillars used for support both within the interior and on the exterior as well. The most prominent of these support pillars are located on either side of the middle door, and are beautifully-carved stone dragons that encircle the columns.

Link: Hokkien Architecture (Wiki)

While the temple may seem somewhat subdued in its design from afar, the devil is really in its finer details as the closer you look, the more exquisite you’ll discover its decorative elements are thanks to the 2007 restoration work that went into the temple (mentioned on the timeline above). It was at this time that the yellow cylindrical bamboo-like tiles (燒筒板瓦) that covered the roof were completely replaced as were almost all of the cut-and-stick decorations (剪黏), which are integral to Hokkien-style design.

The newly-designed decorative elements were part of a long research project that ultimately restored the original elements that you would have found at the original temple, when it was still in its original location. In this case, the temple contracted Pan Kundi (潘坤地), a master craftsman who is most well-known for his contributions to the restoration of Dalongdong’s Bao-An Temple (大龍峒保安宮), a Taiwanese national treasure, and recognized by UNESCO for its contribution to the preservation of cultural heritage.

One of the problems that might arise when you visit the temple today is that the ‘finer details’ mentioned above are abundant, and you may find yourself spending quite a bit of time looking at the decorative elements on top of the ridges, between the ridges, and along the ends of each of the them and contemplating their meaning. Never fear, I’ll do my best to answer some of those questions with the help of my telephoto lens!

Starting with the more obvious design elements, you’ll notice the ‘Double Dragon Pagoda’ (雙龍寶塔) directly in the middle of the apex of the roof. This is a decorative element that is common at Buddhist temples, and represents a number of important things - First, it is used to ward off evil spirits and fire, but it also represents ‘filial piety’ and ‘virtue’. Another way of interpreting it is by explaining that ‘pagodas’ were traditionally buildings where Buddhist texts were kept, so having the dragons encircling the pagoda in this way is a way of ‘protecting the Buddha’ or ‘precious things’.

The next thing you’ll probably notice is that on each of the ridges, there is a dragon-like creature facing toward the pagoda. In fact, this creature is referred to as an “Aoyu” (鰲魚), and is basically a carp that is in the process of transforming into a dragon featuring the head of a dragon and the body of a fish. Similar to the Dragon-Pagoda’s nature of helping to ward off fire or other disasters, the Aoyu are known for their ability to ‘swallow fire and spit water’ meaning that they’re also there to offer protection to the temple.

Conveniently located just under the two Aoyu in the mid-section, you’ll find one of the ‘Four Heavenly Kings’ (四大天王) accompanying them. Known as important Buddhist figures with regard to ‘protection’, in Mandarin, the names of the kings go together to form the idiom “fēngtiáoyǔshùn” (風調雨順), or “seasonable weather with gentle breeze and timely rain,” and by this point you’re probably wondering just how often temples burn to the ground. With the amount of candles and incense that are burnt in these temples, it probably shouldn’t be too surprising that it does, unfortunately, happen from time to time.

Two of the four Heavenly Kings on the far left and right.

The design of each of the kings is slightly different, but its important to offer a bit of detail:

  1. Virulhaka (增長天王) - holding a jeweled double-edged sword

  2. Vessavana (多聞天王) - holding a jeweled umbrella

  3. Dhatarattha (持國天王) - holding a pipa (a traditional musical instrument)

  4. Virupakkha (廣目天王) - holding a dragon in his hand

Link: Four Heavenly Kings (Wiki)

Once again, looking carefully along the Xishi Ridge (西施脊), the flat part of the top ridge, you’ll find some pretty intricate decorative elements in the space between the Four Heavenly Kings. Directly under the Dragon Pagoda, there is a mural that depicts the folklore story of ‘Guanyin conquering the phoenix’ (老古板的古建築之旅). The story, which originated in the Song Dynasty (宋朝), is a popular one in Taiwan that has been converted into a Taiwanese opera, which is often performed outside of temples. In the story, “Dapeng” (大鵬金翅明王), the Chinese manifestation of the Hindu deity Garuda turned into a human and came to earth to wreak havoc, forcing Guanyin to appear to make an appearance and back him under control. Legends regarding the mythical ‘Dapeng Phoenix’ appear throughout Chinese history, but in most of the stories, one of the commonalities is that it is often subservient to the Buddha or Guanyin.

One thing that confused me, and sent me down a bit of a rabbit hole looking for information, were the five animals located below the Guanyin mural. It is common to find ‘four’ animals depicted in this particular space within Taiwan’s temples, known as the ‘Auspicious Four Beasts’ (四祥獸), most often represented as a Tiger, Leopard, Lion and Elephant (虎豹獅象) - just like the so-called ‘Four Beasts Mountains’ in Taipei. Once again, as with the other decorative elements discussed so far, the presence of the beasts is meant to help suppress evil spirits and protect the temple. In this case, however, there are ‘Five Auspicious Beasts’ thanks to the inclusion of a Qilin (麒麟), a mythical Chinese chimera.

Link: Four Beasts Hiking Trail (四獸山步道)

Swallow-Tail roofs not only feature an upward-curving ridge at the apex of the roof but also often have eaves that descend from the ridge to the lower section of the roof where you’ll find a platform for additional decorative elements. Known in Taiwanese as the ‘paitoh’ (牌頭), you’ll find another set of elaborate murals at the end of each of the roof’s eaves.

There are two murals in the mid-section, and another one on each of the ends of the eastern and western wings. Two of the murals depict events from the life of the Buddha, while the other two are related to Guanyin.

Speaking of the wings, they feature similar decorative elements along their ridges, but in both cases are a bit more subdued, with simple depictions of peonies (牡丹), phoenixes (鳳), qilin (麒麟) and peacocks (孔雀).

Link: Animals & Mythical Creatures (Buddhist Symbols)

Moving on from the roof, located directly in front of the middle door in the centre of the building, you’ll find a beautifully designed Tiangong Incense Cauldron (天公爐) that features the words ‘Taipei Jiantan Historic Temple’ (台北劍潭古寺) carved on the bowl. The design here is slightly different than what you’d see at other places of worship in Taiwan as it is quite narrow compared to the cauldrons you’ll find at other temples. What remains the same is that you’ll find 'dragons grabbing pearls’ (雙龍戲珠) on either side and an octagonal-covered roof with three legs that represent a ‘tiger’ (寅), ‘horse’ (午) and ‘dog’ (戌), which are considered the ‘triad of heaven, earth and man’ (天地人).

Note: The ‘double dragons grabbing pearls’ (雙龍戲珠) are part of an ancient Chinese-language idiom that symbolizes humanity’s constant pursuit of happiness. It has also become an important image with regard to weddings as the harmony between husband and wife and mutual respect, humility and tolerance.

On either side of the cauldron you’ll find the beautifully-carved traditional stone dragon pillars (龍柱) that I mentioned earlier. The pillars, which aren’t from the original temple, are thought to be a product of the early 1900s, although you won’t find a date carved on them to prove that. Still, they’re well over a century old and have recently been given a bit of restoration. Featuring dragons that encircle each of the pillars. You’ll also find depictions of people and animals walking along each of the dragon's backs.

Directly in front of the cauldron, you’ll find a stone-carved Dragon Ramp (龍陞) between the ground and the platform in front of the doors. Also referred to as a ‘Royal Ramp’ (御路), the sloping ramp is reserved for the passage of royalty, or for whenever one of the statues has to be moved outside of the temple. Even though Taiwan doesn’t have any royalty, and the only royals to have ever visited the country were from the Japanese imperial family, these sloping ramps are a common feature among the temples you’ll find across the country.

Another common feature that the temple shares with most other places of worship in Taiwan is that there is a name plaque located above the middle door. The beautifully inscribed plaque (牌匾) features the temple’s name scripted in calligraphy and obviously if you take a look at it, it’s in pretty good shape, but in this case you can see the date it was placed, which was in August of 1981 (民國70年8月).

Speaking of recent additions, the shrine is currently home to lacquered wooden sliding panels with golden latticed windows. The wood-carved latticed windows (木柵窗格) don’t actually look like typical ‘windows’, but they feature intricately carved floral designs with birds and peacocks.

Finally, if you find yourself standing on the platform by the central door, you’ll discover that there are some really intricate and beautifully hand-carved wooden figures (木雕) that are used to decorate the trusses and eaves that connect to the pillars, which are instrumental in working together to help to support the weight of the roof. The carvings, which feature lions and murals, like the lattice windows below are all painted gold and make the exterior of the temple much more beautiful.

Before I move on to briefly describing the interior of the temple, I think it’s important to note that if you search for images of the temple online, you’re going to notice a stark difference between some of the photos you’ll find.

Prior to 2007, the temple looked considerably different, and very much more ‘plain’ that what you’ll see today. As I mentioned earlier, the design of the roof was completely changed to reflect the temple’s original design and it was during that restoration project that most of the decorative elements that I’ve described above were added. Given that the master craftsman mentioned above is known for not only his skills with traditional Hokkien cut-porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕), but also his wood-carving skills, it’s safe to say that all of the decorative elements that we enjoy today are thanks to his genius and hard work.

I won’t spend too much describing the interior of the temple, simply due to the fact that Hokkien-style Buddhist temples place an incredible amount of detail on the decorative elements of the exterior of the building while the interior is much more subtle. That being said, it has to be mentioned that, like the Lukang Longshan Temple, the temple features a beautifully designed ‘caisson’ (八卦藻井) in the main shrine room. Also known as a “Ba-Gua ceiling,” it would be an understatement to say that it is a masterpiece of architectural design. Octagonal in shape, each side of the caisson symbolizes eight symbols in Taoism that represent the fundamental principles of reality.

Somewhat difficult to describe properly, a caisson is basically a sunken layered panel in a ceiling that raises above the rest of the ceiling almost as if there were a dome above it. The layers of the caisson are often beautifully decorated and with a design at the center which in this case is just a painted flower that has a lamp hanging from the middle.

The most amazing thing to keep in mind about these caissons is that they are designed using expertly measured interlocking pieces that connect together in a way that means that neither beams nor nails are used to keep them in place. They simply lock together to form a six-layer deep spider-web of beauty. It takes a considerable amount of skill and patience to make one of these, so if you visit, one of the first things the people at the temple will do is make sure you take note of it.

As mentioned above, the interior of the temple is split into three sections with the main shrine in the middle. The wing to the left of the main shrine room is used for administrative purposes while the wing on the right is home to the Koxinga Shrine. The passage ways from both of the wings feature a couple of objects that should be noted. First, on the left wing, you’ll find a drum hanging within the passageway while on the right wing you’ll find a large stone bell, both of which are common within Buddhist temples as a way of indicating the time, attracting crowds, and announcing the beginning of preaching.

Finally, one last thing I’d like to point out is the ‘Dragon Altar’ (案桌) in the middle of the shrine - the altar features a painted dragon with the words ‘Jiantan Buddha’ (劍潭佛祖) on it. Likely one of the oldest parts of the current temple (save for the Guanyin statue), the altar dates back to the reign of Emperor Daoguang (道光) of the Qing Dynasty, placing it somewhere between 1821 and 1850. On either side of the altar, you’ll find some stone pillars with calligraphy engraved on each of them. Speaking to the history of the temple, they tell a story of how the migration of the temple to its current location wasn’t an optimal decision, but was forced upon them by the Japanese. I’d attempt to translate the text, but I have to admit that its beyond my level. Nevertheless, the sentiment is a bit salty.

The text is provided below for anyone interested:

Note:「寶劍劫灰塵爐火重新光大直,澄潭涵法雨川流終古擁觀音」and「庚辰劍潭古寺移築大直」

Getting There

 

Address: #6, Alley 805, Bei-An Road, Zhongshan District, Taipei

(臺北市中山區北安路805巷6號)

GPS: 25.085910, 121.554330

Conveniently located a short walk from an MRT station, visiting the Jiantan Historic Temple is actually quite straightforward, and is easily accessible for any tourist who’d like to visit. That being said, there are faster options than the MRT if you’re taking public transportation, so I’ll provide directions for both the MRT and the bus routes that will get you there below.

MRT

Located across the Keelung River from Taipei in Neihu’s Dazhi (大直) neighborhood, taking the MRT is obviously one of the most convenient methods of getting to the temple. That being said, even though the MRT drops you off pretty much at the temple’s doorsteps, its convenience doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s the quickest way to get there as the Brown Line trains are considerably slower than the normal underground MRT, and you’ll likely have to pass by Songshan Airport on your way there.

Nevertheless, if your preferred method of transportation is to take the MRT, simply get yourself on the Brown Line either at Zhongxiao Fuxing (忠孝復興) or Nanjing Fuxing (南京復興), heading in the direction of Nangang Station (南港捷運站). Getting off the train at Jiannan Road Station (劍南路捷運站), you’ll take Exit #1 and walk straight along Beian Road (北安路) where you’ll notice Jingye Park (敬業公園) on your right and the temple about a minute away on the left.

Bus

Similarly, given that the Jiannan Road MRT Station is located next to the Miramar Shopping Mall (美麗華百樂園), famed for its giant roof-top ferris wheel, there are a number of bus routes that will help you get there just as easily as the MRT. The closest bus stop to the temple is the Jiannan Road Stop (捷運劍南路站), directly in front of the MRT Station, so if you end up taking a bus, the walking route to the temple follows the same route.

Given the popularity of the Miramar Shopping Center, there are far too many bus routes that service this bus stop, and since Internet links for these things in Taiwan are notoriously unstable, I’m not going going to link to each of the routes individually here. I highly recommend travelers make use of the Taipei eBus website, or download the Bus Tracker Taipei app on your phone (Android | iOS) or use the Real-Time Bus Tracking service offered on the eBus website.

Here are the following routes that service the Jiannan Road Stop: Neihu Express Line (內湖幹線), Red #3 (紅3), Blue #26 (藍26), #28, #33, #42, #72, #208, #222, #247, #256, #267, #268, #287, #556, #620, #646, #681, #683, #902, #957, #1801

Youbike

If you’re feeling adventurous, you can easily hop on one of Taipei’s convenient shared Youbikes and make your way along the Keelung River all the way to Dazhi where you’ll be able to park the bike in front of the Jiannan Road MRT Station and make your way to the temple. If you’d like to make use of a Youbike, one of the best routes would be to grab a bike at the Yuanshan MRT Station (圓山捷運站), and make your way along the Dajia Riverside Park (大家河濱公園) where you’ll cross the pedestrian section of the Dazhi Bridge (大直橋), and from there making your way toward the Jiannan Road Station. There are of course a number of routes that you could take to get there, though, so I recommend opening up Google Maps on your phone and mapping out a bike route from wherever you’re starting from!

If you haven’t already, I highly recommend downloading the Youbike App to your phone so that you’ll have a better idea of the location where you’ll be able to find the closest docking station.

Link: Youbike App - Apple / Android

To be frank, I don’t really spend very much time in the Neihu area of Taipei. I’ve visited most of Taipei’s most important places of worship over the years, but this temple was one that I’ve always had on my list, but took quite a while to actually get around to. It’s not that I didn’t think it was important, or that it should be high on the list of places that people should visit when they’re in town, I just personally only find myself in that area when I’m hiking along the Jiantan Mountain ridge. Nevertheless, if you find yourself in the city and the temples are of particular interest to you, I highly recommend checking out some of those listed above, and if you’ve still got time left, head over to this one to check it out as well!

I suppose that doesn’t particularly sound like a rousing endorsement of the temple, but I’m not sure how much appeals to most short-term tourists. I have to say, though, that the temple was a lot more beautiful than I expected, and if the photos in this article are any indication, you’re in for a treat if you visit, especially since its a much more quiet place of reflection than some of the other major temples that tourists visit.

References

  1. 劍潭古寺 (Wiki)

  2. 劍潭 (Wiki)

  3. 劍潭寺 | Jiantan Temple (台灣宗教文化地圖)

  4. 劍潭寺 (國家文化資產網)

  5. 劍潭古寺 (台灣好廟網)

  6. 劍潭古寺 (Tony的自然人文旅記)

  7. 巴字第974號:劍潭古寺 (地球上的火星人)

  8. 中山區 劍潭古寺 — 隱身於熱鬧商場旁之臺北盆地最早古剎,有段被迫搬遷的過往 (Mobile01)

  9. 剪黏藝術欣賞(五) 劍潭古寺 (老古板的古建築之旅)

  10. 劍潭古寺 (淡水維基館)

  11. Jiantan Temple (Travel Taipei)

  12. Hokkien architecture | 闽南传统建筑 (Wiki)