TAIPEI, Taiwan — The second I stepped onto Flight DL69 for what would turn into an exhausting trip here — first, I had hours-long layovers in Seattle and Minneapolis — I kept thinking about what awaited me. I was leaving staid Cleveland for a bustling metropolis with a loose understanding of how dissimilar this island nation was from anywhere else I’d gone.
Upon arrival, I quickly forgot about the poorly seasoned, dry salmon Delta Air Lines served me on the final leg of my trek. What hit me right away, however, was the contrast in temperature: a humid, sunny 90 degrees here compared to the cool, rainy 50s I’d left behind in Ohio.
Why bother to fret about the weather? I’d missed the monsoon season after all. Besides, I felt it was more meaningful for a traveler like me to immerse himself in the vibrant energy of the Taiwanese capital.
Its prosperity was immediately apparent, which made it easier for me to understand China’s persistent interest in reclaiming the island. Just look at Taipei 101, the second-tallest building in the world. It lords over the city like a sentinel. Take an elevator to the top floor and you see how expansive the city is.
But to really see Taipei, I had to go to its streets. They came alive daily with the melodies of street performers, including a talented violinist whose music added a cultural soundtrack to my globetrotting. Across the city, modern affluence merged seamlessly with historic charm, and they created a captivating mix of the old and the new.
While I’d hoped from the start I’d be able to go to a baseball game, I wasn’t altogether certain I’d be able to. It was playoff time here, and the games were sold out. Taiwanese love baseball as much as Americans do. But as in America, people can find a way to go to games if they’re willing to pay. I was. I stumbled upon a scalper outside the ballpark, and he sold me a pair — I was traveling with my friend Jeff — for $63 apiece. They were great seats, right behind home plate.
There, I found myself amid passionate fans, watching Game 1 of the Taiwan League postseason. Despite sporting a Yankees cap, I proudly wore the yellow-and-black colors of the Taipei Brothers, so I was going to embrace the local baseball culture just as I had done in Japan the previous year. (Who knows? Maybe in 2025, South Korea will be next on my baseball odyssey.)
The quality of baseball here didn’t quite meet my expectations. I’d compare it somewhat to Double A baseball in The States.
What did meet my expectations, though, was the bullet train — a marvel I wished America would import. It whisked me and Jeff to Taichung, a city I’d never heard of despite its population rivaling Taipei’s 2.7 million. While fewer people spoke English there, Google Translator proved a godsend in bridging the language gap. As night fell, Taichung transformed; its colorful street markets blossomed with food, drink and people of all hues.
Other cities revealed their unique character as well. Kaohsiung, our final stop outside Taipei, was one of them. It wore its grittiness like a badge of honor, reminiscent of American urban landscapes. Yet Kaohsiung maintained that distinctly peaceful Taiwanese aura I’d noticed elsewhere. People moved with purpose but without hurry, whether heading to shopping malls or browsing the vibrant night markets that seemed to be sociocultural heartbeat of Taiwan.
The night markets were a feast for the senses, filling the air with tantalizing aromas and a carnival-like atmosphere. The markets served as gathering spaces for both young and old, whether they lived in modest homes or well-kept rentals, they shared an urban experience each day of the week. The orderliness of it all — teenagers at ease rather than causing mischief — struck me as something I wished I could export to the United States.
I wound down my journey with a gondola ride in Maokong, a neighborhood near the Taipei Zoo. I decided to skip visiting the zoo. From the gondola, I got an overhead view of the city that left me with Technicolor memories, even if the café at the end of the ride served lukewarm beer — hardly the drink to refresh a man in tropical heat and energy-sapping humidity.
From my hotel room on my last evening, I reflected on this 11-day whirlwind. While Japan still claimed primacy in my heart for its refined baseball culture and other charms, Taiwan had revealed itself as utterly distinctive: a place where contemporary vitality and historical reverence dance like Alvin Ailey, where urban dynamism coexists with social harmony, and where every night market pulses with the joy and vitality of a state fair.
Though I doubt I’ll ever yearn to return, Taiwan etched itself into my wanderer’s soul — a Southeast Asian nation that generously rewards people intrepid enough to explore its mysteries from the past and to savor its present.
Bāibā, Taipei!
Nǐ hǎo, Cleveland!
