Taichung Train Station (臺中驛)

At some point during my elementary school years, my grandma arrived at our house to collect my sister and I for a trip to visit the extended family. Every summer we’d have a several day long family reunion in Halifax, but this time was different. Most of the time my grandfather would be in charge of driving us on the two hour journey to this city, but this time, he was busy with work, so he couldn’t join us. Instead, we drove to a local train station, and for the first time in my life, I stepped foot on a train.

For people here in Taiwan, getting on a train for the first time probably isn’t one of those memorable experiences that they remember vividly later in life, it’s just something that is simply part of daily life for a lot of people here that they take it for granted. For Canadians, though, taking a train, sadly, tends to be a very rare occurrence. I remember getting off the train, walking down a large covered platform, and then emerging into a massive open building, probably one of the largest buildings I had been in by that point in my life, and was in awe of the beauty of the European-style building.

Decades later, I found myself on a train bound south to the central Taiwanese city of Taichung for a weekend trip. When we arrived, I remember getting off of the train, walking down the platform to the station hall from which we’d start our weekend of exploration. Putting my ticket into the turnstile, I walked into the massive station, and was almost automatically transported back to that vivid childhood memory of my first experience on a train.

The station was busy, but the interior was massive, with high ceilings, white walls and European-style architecture. It wasn’t an experience that I was expecting, but it was one that I thoroughly enjoyed.

I didn’t particularly know that much about Taiwan at the time, so I never really put much thought into why the building appeared the way it did. but I enjoyed the quick reminder of my childhood experience, and then walked out of the station to check into our hotel for the weekend. Now that I’ve been in Taiwan for quite a while, and I’ve learned a lot about the nation’s history, I’m a little sad that I didn’t spend time taking photos of the station as it was while it was still in action.

Sadly, the historic Taichung Station, which had served the community just short of a century, like many other historic train stations around the country, was replaced with a modern-looking monstrosity, but came with the promise of increased efficiency, and for some people, that’s more important.

Actually, the modern station is quite beautiful in its own right, I shouldn’t be so harsh in my description. It’s a very well-designed open space, but it’ll never be as iconic as its predecessor.

Of the major Japanese-era railway stations, Taichung’s beautiful railway station was part of a short list of buildings that remained in operation almost a century after they were constructed. Today, only Hsinchu Station (新竹車站), Chiayi Station (嘉義車站) and Tainan Station (臺南車站) remain, and unsurprisingly, it seems like they might be running short on time, as well. Fortunately, unlike the disappearance of Japanese-era railway stations in Keelung (基隆車站), and Hualian (花蓮車站), local authorities had the foresight to preserve the historic station, giving the people of Taichung the peace of mind that even though some things might change, others would stay very much the same.

Today, I’m going to introduce the historic Taichung Train Station, it’s history, and its architectural design. Even though the station has recently been decommissioned, it has become part of a large cultural park that focuses on the history of the railway, something for which you’ll discover Taichung owes much of its prosperity to, so if you find yourself visiting the city today, a visit to the Railway Cultural Park that they have set up is a pretty good way to spend some of your time.

Taichung Railway Station (臺中驛 / たいちゆうえき)

To introduce the historic Taichung Railway Station, I’m going to do a bit of a deep dive into the events that led up to the arrival of the Japanese in Taiwan, and the development of the railway, which ushered in an era of modernity and economic opportunity that the people of Taiwan had yet to experience. While explaining how the railway became an instrumental tool for fueling the Japanese empire’s goal of extracting the island’s precious natural resources, I hope to also offer a bit of context as to why this station in particular became so important. Before I start, though, I need to reiterate that the building I’ll be introducing isn’t the current railway station, it’s the historic building that is located directly next door.

For anyone who has grown up in the Taichung, terms like ‘First Generation’, ‘Second Generation’ or ‘Third Generation’ don’t really mean anything - there’s only one Taichung Station, and there’s that newer-looking building next door where the trains currently come and go from. Understandably, when you’ve been the beating heart of a city for well over a century, it takes people a while to adjust to the newer situation.

The history of the railway in Taiwan dates back as early as 1891 (光緒17年), just a few short years prior to the arrival of the Japanese. A first for Taiwan, the railway project is arguably one of the most ambitious development projects undertaken by the Qing government while they still held control of the island. Under the leadership of Liu Mingchuan (劉銘傳), who would end up being the last governor of Taiwan, at its height, the Qing-era railway stretched from the port city of Keelung (基隆) to Hsinchu (新竹). However, even though the project was led by foreign engineers, the end result turned out to be a rudimentary, treacherous route that ultimately came at far too high of a cost to continue financing. Suffice to say, none of this should be particularly surprising, especially when you take into consideration that during the two centuries that the Qing controlled portions of the island, they never particularly cared very much about developing it, and this was especially true during the final few decades of their administration as they were more occupied with war (and revolution) at home.

The Manchu’s came to power in China at a time when the previous rulers had become far too weak to contend with constant rebellions and civil disorder. In what may seem like a case of history repeating itself, by the late 1800s, Qing rule had similarly become incompetent, and corruption was rife throughout the country. Putting it bluntly, the level of corruption and incompetence prevented China from modernizing its military, but it also resulted in them shooting themselves in the proverbial foot with some diplomatic missteps that led to war with Japan.

Known today as the ‘First Sino-Japanese War’ (1894-1895), the whole affair ended about as quickly as it began, resulting in considerable embarrassment for the Qing rulers, who were completely unprepared to wage a modern war against a well-equipped Japanese military. The year-long war ultimately shifted the balance of power in Asia from China to Japan, and would be one of the catalysts for revolution in China that would just a few years later bring thousands of years of imperial rule to an end.

Unable to successfully wage war against the Japanese, the Qing were forced to sue for peace a little more than six months into the war. This resulted in the signing of the Treaty of Shimonoseki (下関条約), which forced China to recognize the independence of Korea, and the Chinese would have to pay Japan reparations amounting to 8,000,000kg of silver. More importantly with regard to this article however, it also meant that Taiwan, and the Penghu Islands would be ceded to Japan in perpetuity.

Shortly thereafter, the Japanese set sail for Taiwan, landing in Keelung on May 29th, 1895. Upon arrival, Japanese forces were met with fierce resistance from the remnants of the Qing forces stationed on the island, local Hakka militias, and the indigenous people. Over the next five months, the Japanese gradually made their way south fighting a nasty guerrilla war that ‘officially’ came to an end with the fall of Tainan in October. That being said, even though the military had more or less taken control of Taiwan’s major towns, the insurgency and resistance to their rule lasted for quite a few more years, resulting in some brutal events taking place during that time.

Nevertheless, similar to the war with China, the superiority of the modern Japanese military easily dispatched the local armies, which vastly outnumbered them. The campaign, however taught the Japanese a hard, yet valuable lesson as figures show that over ninety-percent of the Japanese military deaths were caused by malaria-related complications.

Taiwan’s hostile environment turned out to be one of the main reasons why the Qing were so ambivalent towards the island, but is something that the Japanese were intent on addressing, especially since they were invested in extracting the island’s vast treasure trove of natural resources. To accomplish that mission, they would first have to put in place the necessary infrastructure for combating these diseases.

One of the colonial government’s first major development projects got its start shortly after the first Japanese boots stepped foot in Keelung in 1895. The military had brought with them a group of western-educated military engineers, and they were tasked with getting the existing Qing-era railway back up and running, as well as coming up with proposals for extending the railway around the island. As the military made its way south, the team of engineers followed close behind surveying the land for the future railway. By 1902, the team came up with a proposal for the ‘Jukan Tetsudo Project’ (縱貫鐵道 / ゅうかんてつどう), otherwise known as the ‘Taiwan Trunk Railway Project,’ which would have a railroad pass through each of Taiwan’s established western coast settlements, including Kirin (基隆), Taihoku (臺北), Shinchiku (新竹), Taichu (臺中), Tainan (臺南) and Takao (高雄).

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

Construction of the railway was divided into three phases with teams of engineers spread out between the ‘northern’, ‘central’ and ‘southern' regions of the island. Amazingly, in just four short years, from 1900 and 1904, the northern and southern portions of the railway were completed, but due to some unforeseen complications, the central area met with delays and construction issues due to the necessity for the construction of a number of bridges and tunnels through the mountains.

Nevertheless, the more than four-hundred kilometer western railway was completed in 1908 (明治41), taking just under a decade to complete, a feat in its own right, given all of the obstacles that had to be overcome. To celebrate this massive accomplishment, the Colonial Government held an inauguration ceremony within the newly established Taichung Park (台中公園) with Prince Kanin Kotohito (閑院宮載仁親王) invited to take part in the ceremony.

The Japanese authorities touted the completion of the railway as part of a new era of peace and stability in Taiwan, and one that would help to usher in a new period of modernization, one that would bring economic stability to the people of the island - and for the most part, they were right about that.

The completion of the railway was instrumental in the development of the island and was a stark contrast from what the Qing considered a “ball of mud beyond the pale of civilization” (海外泥丸,不足為中國加廣) to an integral part of the Japanese empire.

Link: Mid-Lake Pavilion (湖心亭)

While the construction of the railroad, for the most part, seems to have gone by quite smoothly, as mentioned earlier, the central region was faced with delays in its completion in part due to poor planning and the necessity for the construction of large bridges and tunnels, which took longer than anticipated. That being said, by 1905, there were trains running a limited service route within Taichu Prefecture (臺中廳 / たいちゅうちょう) prior to their eventual connection with the northern and southern portions of the railway across the Da’an (大安溪) and Dadu (大肚溪) rivers.

One of the stations along the limited service route was the First Generation Taichung Railway Station (台中停車場), a modest single-story wooden station hall, which officially opened on June 10th, 1905 ( (明治38年). For the three years prior to the completion of the railway, the ‘Taichung Line’ connected the downtown of Taichung with Koroton Station (葫產激驛 / ころとんえき), Tanshiken Station (潭仔乾驛 / たんしけん), Ujitsu Station (烏日驛 / うじつえき), and Daito Station (大肚驛 / だいとえき), known today as Fengyuan (豐原), Tanzi (潭子), Wuri (烏日) and Chenggong (成功) Stations, respectively.

First Generation Taichung Railway Station

Link: Railway Station Name Change Chart (臺灣日治時期火車站新舊地名對照表)

With the completion of the Western Trunk Railway in 1908, Taichung, like many other major settlements around Taiwan experienced an economic boom, and as its economy thrived, more and more people made their way to the city to take part in the economic successes, that were in large part thanks to the railway. As the most important passenger and freight station in central Taiwan, Taichung Station quickly became an extremely busy place, and after less than a decade, the city had already outgrown its small wooden station hall. Thus, when the decision was made to replace the original station with a new one. This time, though, Taichung Station would become one of the largest stations on the island and would be one that reflected the prosperous community that it served.

Second Generation Taichung Railway Station

That being said, while construction of the new station was getting underway, some of the issues and delays caused during the construction of central Taiwan’s railway ended up persisting long after its completion. With the constant threat of earthquakes and typhoons creating major service disruptions, and the fact that central Taiwan was an important region for the extraction of sugarcane, fruit, and other commodities, the Railway Department of the Governor General of Taiwan (台灣總督府交通局鐵道部) was forced to come up with a solution to the problem. The answer came in the form of the “Kaigan-sen” (かいがんせん / 海岸線), or the Coastal Railway Branch Line, which started just south of Hsinchu and connected with the Western Trunk railway in the south of Taichung.

Link: The Coastal Railway Five Treasures (海線五寶) | Tai’an Railway Station (泰安舊車站)

The ‘Second Generation Taichung Railway Station’ officially opened on November 6th, 1917 (大正6年) - Much larger than the first generation building, the 436㎡ (132坪) station was constructed with reinforced concrete, red bricks and a beautiful wooden roof using a mixture of European Renaissance Architectural design. The construction of the second generation station was also an important time with regard to the expansion of the platform space, which was expanded to a size of 403㎡ (122坪), offering a covered roof for people waiting for their trains to arrive, and the installation of an underground walkway to replace the overpass that was constructed for the first generation building.

Over the following century, Taichung Station became one of the longest-serving symbols of the city, sharing important cultural and historic links with the people of Taichung. The station has lived through war, the subsequent authoritarian era, and has witnessed first hand a modern city develop around it. Like many of its contemporaries, however, the station fell victim to modernity, and in 2016, ninety-nine years after the first train rolled into the station, the final train departed.

It may have been the end of an era for the storied station hall, but we are fortunate that the local government had the foresight to realize that the historic building holds a special place in the hearts of the citizens of the city, said to ‘served as the iconic beating heart of the city.’ If they tore it down and replaced like so many of the other historic railway stations around the country, there might have been riots in the streets. Today, the historic Taichung Railway Station is part of a large railway cultural park next to the current station, and the people of Taichung, and the rest of us, are able to enjoy its continued existence.

Before I move on to detailing the architectural design of the station, I’ve put together a timeline of events in the dropdown box below with regard to the station’s history for anyone who is interested:

    • 1896 (明治29年) - The Colonial Government puts a team of engineers in place to plan for a railway network on the newly acquired island.

    • 1902 (明治35年) - After years of planning and surveying, the government formally approves the Jukan Tetsudo Project (縱貫鐵道 / ゅうかんてつどう), a railway plan to be constructed along the western and eastern coasts of the island.

    • 1905 (明治38年) - The First Generation Taichung Station (台中停車場) opens for operation.

    • 1908 (明治41年) - The 400 kilometer Taiwan Western Line (西部幹線) is completed with a ceremony held within Taichung Park (台中公園) on October 24th. For the first time, the major settlements along the western coast of the island are connected by rail from Kirin (Keelung 基隆) to Takao (Kaohsiung 高雄).

    • 1909 (明治42年) - A cross-platform sky bridge is constructed alongside the first freight warehouse.

    • 1913 (大正3年) - The Western Trunk Railway is extended further south to Pingtung (屏東), known then as Ako (阿緱/あこう).

    • 1917 (大正6年) - Construction on the Second Generation Taichung Railway Station is completed with an official opening ceremony held on November 6th.

    • 1919 (大正8年) - Construction on the "Kaigan-sen” (かいがんせん / 海岸線), coastal branch railway in the Miaoli-Taichung area gets underway.

    • 1922 (大正11年) - The Coastal Railway is completed and opens for operation.

    • 1923 (大正12年) - Crown Prince Hirohito makes an official visit to the city.

    • 1925 (大正14年) - Prince Chichibu (秩父宮雍仁親王) makes an official visit to the city.

    • 1926 (昭和1年) - Prince Takamatsu (高松宮宣仁親王) makes an official visit to the city.

    • 1935 (昭和35年) - The magnitude 7.1 Shinchiku-Taichū earthquake (新竹‧台中地震 / しんちく‧たいちゅうじしん) with an epicenter in nearby Houli (后里) rocks the island becoming the deadliest quake in Taiwan’s recorded history and causes massive damage around the island.

    • 1945 (昭和45年) - The station is heavily damaged during Allied Bombing raids.

    • 1946 (民國35年) - President Chiang Kai-Shek (蔣介石) marks his first visit to Taichung, traveling by train.

    • 1947 (民國36年) - Residents of Taichung hold a ‘228 Incident’ (二二八事件民眾起意大會) speaking event outside of the railway station, resulting in one of the first government crackdowns in central Taiwan.

    • 1949 (民國38年) - The Rear Station Hall (後站) officially opens.

    • 1964 (民國53年) - The Rear Station Hall is restored and renovated.

    • 1979 (民國68年) - The Taiwan Railway Corporation completes construction on the electrification of the Western Trunk Line.

    • 1995 (民國83年) - The government designates Taichung Station as a Second Grade Protected Historic Building (二級古蹟).

    • 1999 (民國88年) - The devastating 921 Earthquake (921大地震) in central Taiwan causes a tremendous amount of damage to the railway, shutting it down for almost two weeks.

    • 2005 (民國94年) - Taichung Railway Station celebrates its centennial, and the earthquake reparation work on the station is completed after a several year long project.

    • 2012 (民國101年) - Construction on the Third Generation Elevated Taichung Station (臺中車站高架化新站) breaks ground.

    • 2016 (民國105年) - On October 15th, the final express train to pass through the historic ground-level railway station is dispatched from Pingtung on its way to Taipei. The next day, the first northbound train departed from the elevated station at 6:25am, and a few minutes later, the first southbound train departed at 6:33am.

    • 2017 (民國106年) - The Second Generation Taichung Railway Station officially celebrates its centennial anniversary.

    • 2020 (民國109年) - The massive 19,800m2 Taichung Railway Cultural Park (臺中驛鐵道文化園區) is officially inaugurated, and the historic railway station is reopened to the public as part of a park that will continue to expand over the next few years as other historic buildings are restored.

Architectural Design

Looking back, it’s safe to say that the construction of Taiwan’s major railway stations certainly wasn’t an undertaking that the Japanese authorities took lightly. For each of Taiwan’s major population centers, the colonial government constructed a building that was ostentatious not only in its size, but it’s architectural design as well. For those of you who live in or have visited Taiwan, you may find it difficult to believe, but over a century ago, the island was pretty much devoid of development - prior to the arrival of the Japanese in 1895, it would have been extremely rare to see major construction projects like this, so massive buildings like this would have been something completely new to the people living here.

To put it in perspective, the construction of this station is likely to have aroused a similar type of awe and amazement as Taipei 101 did while it was under construction.

Of particular note, the railway stations constructed in Keelung, Taipei, Hsinchu, Taichung, Chiayi, Tainan, and Kaohsiung were highly regarded for their architectural beauty, most of which made use of a fusion of European and Japanese architectural design, with reinforced concrete, something that was quite uncommon, and very expensive, in the early years of the colonial era.

Something I’ve found to be quite a head-scratcher, and what seems to be one of the most common inaccuracies that you’ll find with regard to discussions about the Taichung Railway Station is the ‘person’ credited with its architectural design. So, let me take a minute to explain what’s actually getting lost in translation here. Most of the resources you’ll find regarding the architectural design of the station is that it was designed by an architect named Tatsuno Kingo (辰野 金吾 / たつの きんご), and oddly enough, both the Chinese and English resources that you’ll find misinterpret this fact.

In actuality, Tatsuno is fondly remembered as one of the founding members of the Architectural Institute of Japan, first studying under Josiah Conder, who is considered the “father of Japanese modern architecture,” before traveling to study architecture at the University of London. When he eventually returned to Japan, he took up a position as the Dean of Architecture at the University of Tokyo, and instructed many of the young designers who would follow in his footsteps. Tatsuno’s designs were inspired by the work of Christopher Wren and William Burges, architects whose work he studied during his years at the University of London. As part of the first generation of European-trained Japanese architects, Tatsuno’s architectural styles influenced many of those who followed in his footsteps designing modern buildings in the European Classical and Victorian styles.

In the early days of Taiwan’s colonial era, young Japanese architects likely salivated at the opportunity to come to Taiwan. The island was essentially a blank canvas, and with the government’s support, they hopped on boats and came to a place where they had considerably more freedom to be creative with their urban development projects. That being said, Tatsuno, who is known for his work with the Bank of Japan, Tokyo Station, the National Sumo Arena, etc, never actually made it to Taiwan, passing away in 1919.

Nevertheless, in order to do the building honor, the architects at the Department of Public Works (臺灣總督府交通局鐵道部) took inspiration from Tatsuno’s work, which by that time had become known as the “Tatsuno style” (辰野式), and with so many of his students employed in Taiwan, it shouldn’t surprise anyone that buildings like Presidential Building (總統府), the Monopoly Bureau (專賣局), Taichung City Hall (臺中市役所), and the Ximen Red House (西門紅樓), among others, were all inspired by his work.

Making use of a combination of red bricks and white stone in decorative patterns, with the addition of dormer windows, straight-flowing lines and beautiful stone pillars, Tatsuno’s style imitated the architectural designs he observed while studying in London. Combining elements of Gothic, Baroque, Renaissance and Art-Nouveau in a mixture that architects of the era referred to as “Free Classical,” (自由古典風格) it’s rather obvious that quite a few of these elements are elegantly put on display within the Taichung Railway’s architectural design. So, even though Tatsuno didn’t personally design the station, a quick look at one of his masterpieces, Tokyo Station (東京驛) should give you a pretty good idea as to where the inspiration for this station came from.

Interestingly, Tatsuno Kingo (金吾) was often referred to instead as “Kengo” (堅固), a play on words in Japanese that referred to the firmness and symmetry for which his buildings were designed. With that in mind, following the Tatsuno-style of ‘Free Classical’ design, the Taichung Train Station follows suit with equally-sized eastern and western wings connected to a tower located directly in the center of the building.

While the building looks large enough to have several floors, once you enter, you’ll notice that the interior space features high ceilings, which are naturally lit by the large windows in the center and along the eastern and western wings. The lobby is a bright and spacious room featuring white walls with the wings only separated only by stone columns, which help to stabilize the weight of the roof above.

If you look carefully at the stone columns within the building, you’ll notice a bit of localization going on with the inclusion of decorative elements featuring a variety of local produce, including bananas, pomegranates, pineapples, wax apples with a mixture of flowers and plants.

While the columns within the interior are decorative and celebrate central Taiwan’s agricultural prowess, what you don’t see is their functionality, which is covered by the closed ceiling. Within the attic space, there is an intricate network of wooden roof trusses and beams that have been installed to help stabilize the four-sided sloping gable roof that covers the station. The space above the eastern and western wings does the majority of the work with regard to stabilization as the central section, which features the iconic clock tower.

The central portion of the station tends to be the most architecturally significant section of the building as it protrudes from the roof in both the front and the rear. The space features a large front door as well as an open space at the rear where passengers would make their way through the turnstiles to the platform area. Protruding from the four-sided gable roof in the front, the central portion features its own two-sided roof with stone-carved floral and fruit displays at the apex and on the left and right.

The clock-tower rises up above the mid-section and features a four-sided copper roof of its own, with a spire reaching from the center.

While I’m not particularly sure if there was a clock in this space or not, the circular section in the middle facing outward from the building was replaced with the ‘Taiwan Railway’ logo at some point after the Japanese Colonial Era ended.

Once you’ve gone through the turnstiles to the platform area, one of the things you’ll want to pay attention to are the cast-iron columns along the platform space that maintain a similar approach to the Renaissance-style of architectural design. This is actually one of the only railway stations in Taiwan that maintains its original Japanese-era architectural designs, so when the area was restored, they made sure that extra attention was paid to these columns along the platform, which in some cases look like they’re straight out of Rome.

Speaking to the restoration of the building, it’s important to note some of the changes that took place within the station over the years. Today, if you visit, you’ll find the original wooden ticket booth, which has been well-preserved. That being said, as the city grew, the amount of passengers passing through the station increased. Thus, the eastern wing was renovated to feature a much larger ticket booth with offices for the station master and staff.

You can see the original train schedule displayed above this space, and there are currently informative displays in this space that help visitors understand the history of the building. The chairs within the western waiting space have been removed, and the space is now open with some educational displays added that help visitors understand the architectural design.

Taichung Railway Cultural Park (臺中驛鐵道文化園區)

A few years after operations at the century-old railway station were transferred to the newly constructed elevated station, the ‘Taichung Railway Cultural Park’ was officially inaugurated. Located next to the current railway station, the park not only includes the historic Taichung Station, but several other historic railway-related structures as well. That being said, the roll out of these historic structures, and their restoration continues to be a work in progress.

As I noted in my article regarding the role that Public-Private Partnerships (linked below) have played in the conservation of historic buildings in Taiwan, the Taichung Railway Cultural Park is almost a case study in its own right as the formation of the park has utilized a complex combination of OT (Operate-Transfer), ROT (Rehabilitate-Operate-Transfer) and BOT (Build-Operate-Transfer) agreements with regard to the restoration and operation of the spaces within the park.

As part of the private partnerships operation agreement, the newly constructed elevated railway station also includes an impressive space on the first and second floors where visitors can enjoy local restaurants and purchase souvenirs from the city. As one of the city’s largest transport hubs, the railway station portion of the park can be a pretty busy place, but it has also become a popular spot for weekend pop-up markets, which are held along the historic train platform areas attracting quite a few visitors. It’s also become a great stop for foodies who can either enjoy a meal in one of the fifty-or-so restaurants within the park, or from some of the vendors within the market.

Similarly, if you’re a fan of the railway, it’s a great place to visit to enjoy the history of one of Taiwan’s oldest train stations, with exhibitions about its history, and even some historic trains that you can get on and check out.

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

The culture park (currently) consists of the Second and Third Generation Railway Stations, the historic Taichung Rear Station (臺中後站), the Taichung Railway Freight Warehouses (二十號倉庫建築群), Taichung Station Railway Dormitories (復興路寄宿舍) and the Taiwan Connection 1908 railway path (臺中綠空鐵道). As mentioned above, though, not all of the buildings within the park have been restored and reopened to the public. Thus far, the historic train station, the rail platforms, the freight warehouses, and the green corridor have been opened. The railway dormitories and the rear station on the other hand are still in the process of being restored, and it’s unclear as to when they’ll have their official opening.

One of the best things about the park is that if you’re interested in the city’s history, you’re also a short walk from the historic Teikoku Sugar Factory Headquarters (帝國製糖廠臺中營業所), Taichung Park (台中公園), Taichung City Hall (台中市役所), the Taichung Prefectural Hall (台中州廳), and the Taichung Prison Martial Arts Hall. Similarly, the Taichung Confucius Temple (台中孔廟), Taichung Martyrs Shrine (臺中市忠烈祠) and the Taichung Literary Park (台中文學館) are all close by, and each of them originated during the Japanese-era, albeit with some caveats.

Unfortunately, even though the government has spent a considerable amount of money restoring buildings and making the railway park a really cool place to visit, the amount of information you’ll find available about it online is pretty weak. One of Taiwan’s biggest problems when it comes to tourism is that the government is willing to spend the money to develop these places, but when it comes to marketing them, especially to an international audience, they have absolutely no idea what to do. If you don’t believe me, feel free to click the link below to check out the railway park’s official website. I highly doubt you’ll be blown away by the effort that was put into its creation, or the amount of information that’s available.

Website: Taichung Railway Cultural Park (臺中驛鐵道文化園區) | Facebook Page

Hours: 11:00-21:00 (Monday to Friday), 10:30 - 21:30 (weekends and national holidays).

Getting There

 

Address: No. 1, Sec. 1, Taiwan Boulevard, Taichung (臺中市中區臺灣大道一段1號)

GPS: 24.141480, 120.680400

Whenever I write about one of Taiwan’s train stations, obviously the best advice for getting there is to take the train. Even though the historic Taichung Train Station has been put out of operation, both the station and the Taichung Railway Cultural Park are conveniently accessible via the newly constructed elevated Taichung Railway Station. So, if you’re coming from out of town, no matter if you’re coming from the north or the south, once you arrive at Taichung Station, you’re able to visit the culture park as soon as you exit the gates. That being said, if you’re arriving in town by way of the High Speed Rail, you’re going to have to transfer from the HSR station to the Xinwuri TRA Station (新烏日站), both of which are directly connected to each other. From there, you’ll make your way to Taichung Station, which is only four stops away.

If you’re in the city with a car, simply drive to Taichung Station, with the address provided above input into your GPS. There is a parking lot located within the lower levels of the station, so finding parking near the park is quite easy. Similarly, if you’re driving a scooter, you’ll find quite a bit of parking to the right of the historic station running perpendicular along Jianguo Road (建國路). It shouldn’t be too difficult to find a parking space, unless of course you’re visiting during a national holiday.

Old stamps for printing tickets

If you’re already in the city, but would like to visit, the park unfortunately isn’t accessible via the newly opened Taichung MRT, and it doesn’t look like it will be in the near future. So, if you want to make use of public transportation, the city has a number of buses that stop at both the front and rear sections of the station. The number of buses is quite expansive, so instead of listing them here, click the link to the Taichung Bus (台中客運) website below, where you can find the schedule and prices for each of the buses that service the station.

Link: Taichung Bus - Taichung Railway Station Buses

If you weren’t already aware, due to the lack of a proper subway system in the city for so long, the bus network has become quite expansive, convenient and reliable. If you’re in the city, taking the bus is probably one of your best options for getting around. If like most people, the bus network is a bit intimidating, never fear, simply open up Google Maps and set the Train Station as your destination, and the bus routes that you’ll need to take from wherever you are.

While living in Taiwan, I was fortunate enough to pass through the gates of the historic train station on quite a few occasions while it was still in operation. I’ve always been a big fan of Taichung, and there’s always quite a bit to do when visiting the city. In the near future, the city will be opening several new Japanese-era culture parks, so it’s likely that I’ll be making my way down there more often to check out some of these newly opened tourist attractions. Now that the train station has become part of a much larger culture park, it is a convenient place to check out, especially given that it is located next to the current station. If you’re arriving in town by the train, like so many millions of others have since 1905, you’re automatically treated to a birds-eye view of how Taichung has developed into a major city over the past century.

References

  1. Taichung Railway Station | 臺中車站 中文 | 台中駅 日文 (Wiki)

  2. 臺中火車站 古蹟 (Wiki)

  3. Taichu Prefecture | 臺中州 中文 | 台中州 日文 (Wiki)

  4. Tatsuno Kingo | 辰野金吾 中文 | 辰野金吾 日文 (Wiki)

  5. 第二級古蹟臺中火車站整體修復工程調查研究及修護計畫 (臺灣記憶)

  6. 國定古蹟臺中火車站保存計畫 (文化部)

  7. 台中火車站 (國家文化資料庫)

  8. 臺中火車站 (國家文化資產網)

  9. 台中車站 (舊) (鐵貓)

  10. Taichung Station Railway Cultural Park (臺中驛鐵路文化園區)

  11. 台中車站‧台灣唯一跨時代三代同堂的大車站 (旅行圖中)

  12. 臺中驛 (Wilhelm Cheng)

  13. Departing from where it all started: Taichung Railway Station (Taiwan Fun)


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)