New Taipei City

Ogon Shrine (黃金神社)

Writing as extensively as I do about the history of Taiwan’s Japanese colonial era, I’ve been asked several times over the years why I’ve yet to publish anything about the remnants of the ‘Golden Shrine’ near the popular tourist town of Jiufen (九分). Given that I’ve written about a handful of the other shrines that remain (in some form) in Taiwan, as well as publishing articles about Stegosaurus Ridge (劍龍稜) and the Teapot Mountain (無耳茶壺山) hikes - which offer up a birds eye view of the shrine - its understandable that one might wonder why I haven’t covered what has arguably become one of Taiwan’s most well-known Shinto Shrines.

Like most people, I eagerly paid a visit to the Golden Museum (黃金博物館) in Jinguashi (金瓜石) shortly after it’s official opening. However, that visit came shortly after I arrived in the country, and like most newbies, I didn’t really have much idea about what was going on. Thinking back, although I didn’t actually realize it at the time, that particular visit may have been my first experience exploring something related to the Japanese-era.

The popularity of the museum in its early days meant that the area was absolutely packed with tourists on weekends, and as the shrine was an important part of any visit to the area, it was also a pretty popular spot. At that time though, photography was more or less just a hobby for me, and to tell the truth, I was mesmerized by the mountains, so I didn’t didn’t pay all that much attention to the shrine.

I did end up visiting once again several years later, but on that occasion, the shrine was just a short detour on a hike through the mountains, so I just stopped by for a quick minute before continuing further up the trail. That, unfortunately would have been my best opportunity to get the photos I needed, but I missed out, which is something I’ve regretted for quite a few years.

In 2017, the path to the shrine was gated shut and for the next five years it underwent a period of restoration, which helped to bring parts of the shrine (that were unscrupulously knocked down) back to life. It was also a project that saw the planting of hundreds of cherry trees, which in the future should make the shrine an even more popular spot for tourists.

All of that being said, I’m actually relieved that I didn’t write about the shrine after my second visit. By that time I had been in Taiwan for several years, but the amount of knowledge I had accumulated with regard to Taiwan’s history, the Japanese-era, and Shinto Shrines was no where near what I accumulated now after years of research and experience writing about these things. Thus, the information I’m able to provide readers with today will comprehensively combine the history of the shrine, the community that surrounds it, and its architectural design.

Closed for half a decade, the Golden Shrine reopened to the public in late 2022, and its reemergence has been an important catalyst for attracting tourists back to the Golden Museum, once again becoming a popular spot for all of the loal Instagrammers looking for a fresh location to take photos!

However, even though most people are quite content that the shrine has finally been reopened, there has also been some criticism in some circles regarding the length of time that the shrine was closed. More specifically, critics have openly questioned why the shrine wasn’t completely restored to its original likeness, similar to how the Luye Shinto Shrine (鹿野神社) in Taitung was brought back to life.

Personally, I find myself relatively content with the work that has been done to restore the shrine (minus a few minor gripes), and I’m not particularly sure why anyone would want to restore it to its original condition. As a ‘ruined’ site, the shrine allows us to experience a piece of Taiwan’s modern history, but also provides a lesson as to the effort to erase memories of the Japanese-era in the half-century since the Second World War came to an end.

I’d also argue that it would be relatively pointless to completely reconstruct the shrine if they weren’t going to invite the ‘kami’ to return, something that might be a touchy subject in certain circles. Instead, I’m content that there are a number of well-preserved historic photos of the shrine that allow us to see how it would have originally appeared during the Japanese-era, some of which I’ll be sharing with you today.

As I move on, I’m going to start with an introduction of the history of the shrine, and the Jinguashi gold mines. I’ll then follow with a brief timeline of events, and then I’ll provide details about the shrine’s architectural design, so that you can better understand what you’ll see if and when you visit.

Now that the shrine has been reopened, visitors to Taiwan have a ‘golden’ opportunity (forgive the pun) to visit this amazing piece of Taiwanese history. Making that golden opportunity even more attractive is that any visit to the area can may also include with a number of other popular tourist destination including Jiufen Old Street (九份老街), the Golden Waterfall (黃金瀑布), the Gold Museum (黃金博物館), or any of the hiking trails on the mountains nearby. A day-trip, or even a weekend trip to the area is a rewarding one, and is something that every tourist visiting Taiwan does at least once!

Ogon Shrine (黃金神社 / おうごんじんじゃ)

Over the span of Taiwan’s fifty year Japanese colonial era, there were about two hundred Shinto Shrines constructed around the island. The first of them was the Kaizan Shinto Shrine (開山神社/かいざんじんじゃ) in Tainan, which just so happened to be established on the the original site of the Yanping King Shrine (延平郡王祠). The Chinese-style temple had originally honored the pirate-king Koxinga (鄭成功), but if we’re being picky, the first shrine constructed in Taiwan was technically the Ogon Shrine, located on the northern coast of the island.

Whether it was the ‘first’ or the ‘second’ shrine in Taiwan probably isn’t all that important, but as one of Taiwan’s earliest Shinto Shrines, it has a history that dates back more than 125 years - but I can’t really explain the history of the shrine to you without first providing some basic information about the area where it was constructed, who constructed it, and why it was constructed, because all of these things are very much linked together.

Links: Fairy Cave Temple, Keelung Shrine, Taoyuan Shrine, Luye Shrine, Hualien Shrine, Taitung Shrine, Tamsui Shrine, Yilan Shrine, Yuanshan Shrine, Tungxiao Shrine, Kaizan Shrine

When the Japanese arrived in Taiwan in 1895, it’s safe to say that the situation they were confronted with was pretty hostile - The fleeing Qing forces did their best to sabotage and slow down efforts to take administrative control of the island, and the local inhabitants put up quite a bit of resistance as well. Even worse was the environment, which in the end did the most harm to the Japanese armed forces who were met with deadly foes named malaria, pneumonia, dysentery, cholera and smallpox.

By 1897, the government established ‘Taihoku-ken’ (臺北縣 / たいほくけん), an administrative space that encompassed what we know today as New Taipei, Taipei, Keelung, Taoyuan, Hsinchu and Yilan, in an effort to get the island’s major settlements under some kind of control.

Looking to take control of the island’s rich natural resources, in 1896, the colonial government passed the Taiwan Mining Regulations Act (台灣礦業規則), which limited the extraction of Taiwan’s minerals solely to Japanese nationals. One of the first areas allocated for mining operations was Keelung Mountain (雞籠山) on the island’s north coast.

The mountain was initially partitioned into different sections, with the eastern side leased out to Tanaka Choubee (田中長兵衛 / たなか ちょうべえ), who headed the Tanaka Group (田中組) and after about a year of preparation, mining started in the area in 1897, which by that time was known as Kinkaseki (金瓜石/きんかせき).

Note: Interestingly, the name ‘Jinguashi’ (金瓜石) only predated the Japanese era by about two years. Records indicate that around 1893, a farmer was exploring the area and discovered a gold nugget, which soon attracted a bunch of other people looking for gold. The nugget was reportedly the size of a melon, thus the name.

At its heart, Shintoism is a philosophy that promotes a quality of ‘oneness’ with the natural world, and respect for nature. That being said, Taiwan’s development required a considerable amount of natural resources, so when it came to mining, something that is destructive to the natural environment, it was important to also pay homage to the spirits of the mountain. Thus, in 1898 (明治31年), the first generation ‘Ogon Shrine’ (第一代黃金神社) was established by the Tanaka Group.

With nine pits excavated at the Kinkaseki Mines (金瓜山礦場), as mining efforts gradually went moved into the mountain, it was discovered that gold wasn’t the only treasure in the hills, but there was also vast amounts of silver, copper and sulfur. Eventually the Kinkaseki Mines would become one of the most important mining operations in the Japanese empire.

That being said, economic stagnation caused by the First World War drove the international value of raw materials down for the duration of the war. This created financial issues for the Tanaka Group, which ended up restructuring its business and selling its mining rights to the Tanaka Mining Company (田中礦業株式會社) in the 1920s. Then, about a decade later, due to a lack of capital, the land lease was sold off to the Nippon Mining Company (日本鑛業株式會社), which officially changed its name to the Taiwan Mining Company (台湾鉱業株式会社) in 1933 (昭和8年).

Looking at historic photos of the shrine, one thing you might notice is that at some point the architectural design changed completely - Even though there are only a few remaining photos of the original shrine, what we can observe from them is that the shrine went from something that could be considered rather basic to a replication of one of Japan’s oldest and most important Shinto Shrines, the Ise Grand Shrine (伊勢神宮 / いせじんぐう).

Said to be about two-thousand years old, the architectural design of the Ise Grand Shrine is one that constantly changes. Known in Japan as ‘Yuitsu-shinmei' (唯一神明造 / ゆいいつしんめいづくり), is an ancient architectural style that imitates early rice granaries. The important thing to remember here is that the word ‘yuitsu’ (唯一) translates literally as ‘only’ or ‘unique’ which means that the Grand Shrine is the only place of worship that is permitted to use this style today. Thus, the Ogon Shrine, like many other Shinto Shrines across Japan, uses a variation known as ‘shinmei' (神明造 / しんめいづくり) design.

The reason I’m bringing this up this now is because the Ise Shrine, and other shrines that make use of the ‘shinmei’ design, often appear relatively new (despite their age), due to the fact that important sections of the shrine are reconstructed every few decades, which I’ll explain in more detail later.

Link: Ise Grand Shrine (Wiki)

When the Taiwan Mining Company took control of the Kinkaseki Mines in the early 1930s, they put forward an expansion project that would see the reconstruction of the shrine’s Hall of Worship. The Second Generation Ogon Shrine (第二代黃金神社) opened in 1936 (昭和11年), after a period of reconstruction, marking an important occasion for the local community, which was, to say the least, thriving at the time. Nevertheless, given that time frame and the relatively short lifespan of shrines that make use of this architectural style, it was likely due for another face lift in the mid-1950s, something that would ultimately would never take place.

Interestingly, the three deities, or ‘kami’ (神 / かみ), that were enshrined at the Golden Shrine differed somewhat from those that you would have typically encountered at the other shrines across Taiwan, but with more than a million ‘kami’, you would have obviously come across a wide variety of figures in the two-hundred shrines that were constructed around the country.

Keeping in mind that Shintoism was more or less a ‘foreign’ religion to the people of Taiwan, in the early days of the colonial era, the Japanese tended to enshrine deities that were easily identifiable with the people of Taiwan. This effort could be interpreted as a means to ease the people into their new state religion, or it could have just been a reflection of the situation on the island at the time, but the kami that became the most common at shrines in Taiwan shared similarities with the folk religion deities that people here identified with.

The Three Deities of Cultivation (開拓三神 / かいたくさんじん), for example, became quite common within Taiwan’s Shrines as they were deities known for their skills with regard to ‘nation-building’, ‘farming’, ‘business’ and ‘medicine’. Even though it is also common to find shrines dedicated in their honor back in Japan, they were especially important in Taiwan due to what they represented, which shared parallels with the Earth God (土地公 / 福德正神), who remains one of the most important religious figures in Taiwan today.

That being said, the ‘kami’ that became the most common within Taiwan’s shrines would have been housed within the larger places of worship, which focused more on the general public, such as the Taoyuan Shinto Shrine (桃園神社). Shrines like the Golden Shrine in contrast were a bit more flexible with the deities who were invited to take up residence. That flexibility allowed them to focus more on themes that were important with regard to the environment, local economy and the community living in the area.

To give you an example, the kami that was enshrined at the Taipei Water Shrine, known today as the Yuanshan Shinto Shrine (圓山水神社), was one who focused on water. Thus, as you can imagine, at the Golden Shrine, the deities would have focused on mining and facets of the environment.

The three kami that were enshrined at the Golden Shrine were:

  1. Ōkuninushi (大國魂大神 / おおくにたまのかみ)

  2. Kanayamahiko (金山毘古神 (金山彦命 / かなやまひこのかみ)

  3. Sarutahiko (猿田彥大神 / さるたひこのかみ)

Starting with ‘Okuninushi-no-Kami’, one of ‘three deities of cultivation’ mentioned above, he is regarded as the god of nation-building, agriculture, medicine and protection. The next figure, one of the ‘Great Deities’ (大神) of Shintoism, ‘Sarutahiko Okami’, is the leader of the kunitsukami (国つ神), or the ‘gods of the earth’. Finally ‘Kanayamahiko-no-kami', is the god of mines.

As you can see, in each of these three cases, the selection of deities speaks to the specialized focus of the shrine with regard to its focus on the land and the mines on the mountains that surrounded it.

Note: I should probably also point out that each of these three deities are quite old and are the subject of myths and legends detailed in the Kojiki (古事記 / こじき) and the Nihon Shoki (日本書紀 / にほんしょき), which date back to the early 8th Century. Thus, they share a relationship with the origins of the earth, the islands that make up Japan, and the mythical ancestry of kami that were spawned from Izanagi and Izanami.

Coincidentally, the shrine’s annual matsuri festival (祭 / まつり) was conveniently held on June 28th, which just so happened to be the same date as Jiufen’s annual Mazu Pilgrimage (媽祖遶境), making the date a pretty important one for the people of Jiufen and Jinguashi, and was one where all the laborers and students were given a day off of work to celebrate.

Matsuri time at the Golden Shrine

Segueing back into the shrine’s history, when the Japanese-era came to an end in 1945 (民國34年), mining operations at Jinguashi were put on hold for a short time until the Chinese Nationalists were able to figure out how to get production back online. In 1946, the Taiwan Gold and Copper Office (臺灣金銅鑛籌備處) was established by the government in order to restructure mining operations on the island. Much of Jinguashi’s wealth ended up being dedicated to funding the Nationalists (futile) effort to defeat the Communists in the Chinese Civil War (國共內戰).

When Chiang Kai-Shek’s Nationalist Government fled to Taiwan, bringing with them almost two million refugees, life on the island changed almost overnight, and over the next several decades the Taiwanese people would have to endure what would become one of the world’s longest periods of Martial Law, known locally as the White Terror Period (白色恐怖).

Over the next few decades, Taiwan’s new inhabitants exhibited a considerable amount of anti-Japanese sentiment, and it was during that time that the vast majority of buildings that were related to Japanese culture or religion were vandalized, torn down, or replaced.

Constructed on the side of a mountain.

You could probably argue that the saving grace when it came to the Golden Shrine was that it was constructed on the remote side of a mountain, so unlike the majority of Taiwan’s other shrines, it was never really in any danger of getting in the way of development. That being said, the shrine did fall victim to vandalism over the years, leaving the site in ruins. Going back to a point I made earlier though, it is unclear as to whether or not the main parts of the shrine were vandalized or if they just suffered from lack of up-keep.

Nevertheless, several decades after the war ended, natural resources within Jinguashi’s mines were more or less depleted, and with the decrease in the international market value of copper, the Taiwan Mining Corporation was ultimately forced to declare bankruptcy.

Then, in what may come across as a very random decision, the Taiwan Power Corporation (臺灣電力公司) took ownership of the land in 1985 (民國74年), but not much could be done on their part to save the business operations, so mining in Jinguashi came to an abrupt end in 1987 (民國76年), leaving not only the shrine in ruins, but the entire mining community abandoned.

If we then fast forward to the turn of the new millennium, the Golden Shrine was selected as one of the top ten heritage sites in Taipei County - and even though it was simply an abandoned and ruined shrine, it was ranked on the list of one-hundred most important historical sites in Taiwan.

Like the shrine, the mining community fell into disrepair, but due to its historic value, the Taiwan Power Company in conjunction with the Taiwan Sugar Corporation and the Taipei County Government (Currently New Taipei City) jointly funded a restoration project to reopen the mining community as the ‘Jinguashi Gold Museum’ (黃金博物館).

Link: For some great photos of the shrine prior to its restoration, check out this article: Ōgon Shrine from Spectral Codex.

Shortly thereafter, the Golden Shrine was recognized as a protected heritage site (直轄市定古蹟), and despite it still being under the ownership of the Taiwan Power Company, it was put under the operational control of the Gold Museum, and the government was tasked with coming up with plans to have it restored.

It took about a decade, but the restoration project for the shrine officially started in 2017, with the shrine closed to the public for the duration of the project, which ultimately lasted more than anyone expected.

Reopening to the public in late 2022, the Golden Shrine has reemerged as one of New Taipei’s most iconic tourist destinations, and its rebirth seems to be one that has been celebrated by quite a few people as it has become an Instagram hot spot with people from all over the country flocking to the area to check it out.

If all of that history was a little too much for you, before I start describing the architectural design of the shrine, as I mentioned earlier, I’ll provide a helpful, yet brief timeline of events regarding the shrine:

Timeline

  • 1895 (明治28年) - The Japanese take control of Taiwan at the end of the Sino-Japanese War with the signing of the Treaty of Shimonoseki (馬關條約 / 下関条約).

  • 1896 (明治29年) - The Colonial Government enacts the Taiwan Mining Regulations (台灣礦業規則) policy in an effort to standardize and start the extraction of the island’s resources.

  • 1897 (明治30年) - The Tanaka Group starts a mining operation in Kinkaseki / Jinguashi (金瓜石田中鑛山事務所).

  • 1898 (明治31年) - The First Generation Ogon Shrine (第一代黃金神社) is established by the mining company on a flat section of the mountain’s eastern cliffs (大金瓜岩嶂東).

  • 1905 (明治38年) - The first deposits of gold and silver are discovered at the mines in Jinguashi.

  • 1913 (大正2年) - The Tanaka group purchases the Mudan Mines (牡丹坑鑛) on the opposite side of the mountain and merges it with the Jinguashi Mine.

  • 1922 - A mansion is constructed within the Japanese section of the mining community in Jinguashi in anticipation for the royal tour of Taiwan by the crown prince. The tour never actually took place however due to the death of Emperor Taisho (大正皇帝) and the ascension of Emperor Showa (昭和皇帝) to the throne.

  • 1933 (昭和10年) - Ownership of the mines is transferred to the Nippon Mining Company (日本鑛業株式會社).

  • 1936 (昭和11年) - The Colonial Government’s “Japanization” or ‘forced assimilation’ Kominka (皇民化運動) policy comes into effect in Taiwan. The same year, the mining company expanded the shrine into the Second Generation Ogon Shrine (第二代黃金神社).

  • 1945 (昭和20年) - The Second World War comes to a conclusion and Japan is forced to surrender control of Taiwan.

  • 1946 (民國35年) - The Taiwan Gold and Copper Office (臺灣金銅鑛籌備處) is set up by the Nationalist government in order to restructure mining operations on the island.

  • 1949 (民國38年) - Chiang Kai-Shek (蔣介石) and the Nationalist government retreat to Taiwan, bringing with them several million refugees displaced by the Chinese Civil War. 

  • 1955 (民國44年) - Mining operations are restructured into the Taiwan Mining Corporation (臺灣金銅鑛物局).

  • 1973 (民國62年) - With gold, silver and copper resources drying up in the mountains, the mining company attempts open-pit mining, and shifts much of the operations on the mountain into smelting and the processing of copper.

  • 1985 (民國74年) - Due to declining resources in the mine and the decrease in the international market value of copper, the Taiwan Mining Corporation is forced to declare bankruptcy with the Taiwan Power Corporation (臺灣電力公司) taking ownership of the land.

  • 1987 (民國76年) - Mining operations in Jinguashi come to an end with all of the mines shut down.

  • 2000 (民國89年) - The Golden Shrine is selected as one of the top ten heritage sites in Taipei County and is ranked #94 on the list of a hundred historical sites in Taiwan.

  • 2004 (民國93年) - The Taipei County Government in conjunction with the Taiwan Power Company and Taiwan Sugar Corporation jointly open the ‘Gold Museum’ (黃金博物館) within the historic mining community and processing areas.

  • 2007 (民國96年) - The Golden Shrine is recognized as Taipei County (Currently New Taipei City) protected heritage site (直轄市定古蹟) with ownership of the site still controlled by Taiwan Power Corporation, the site is put under the management of the Gold Museum.

  • 2010 (民國99年) - The International Armistice Peace Memorial Park (國際終戰和平紀念園區) is established on the site of the infamous Kinkaseki Prisoner of War Camp (金瓜石米英捕虜勞役所).

  • 2017 (民國106年) - A long-planned restoration of the Golden Shrine gets underway in order to preserve the remnants of the abandoned shrine.

  • 2022 (民國111年) - Restoration of the shrine is completed and is officially re-opened to the public after being closed for five years.

Architectural Design

If you’ve ever had the opportunity to visit some shrines in Japan, you’re likely to have noticed that even though their architectural design may vary, but one of the things that remains the same in almost every case is in their their spatial design. The layout of the vast majority of shrines includes several important features that are meant to assist visitors on their road from the ‘profane’ to the ‘sacred.’

Obviously, the ‘sacred journey’ that each visitor embarks upon when they visit a shrine depends on how how much space was reserved for the construction of the shrine. This may come across as somewhat confusing, but when it comes to shrines and their size, the amount of land reserved for a shrine doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll find a large shrine, while on the other hand a lack of space doesn’t mean you’ll find a small shrine. So, even though the Ogon Shrine would have been considered a relatively small shrine in terms of the buildings you would have encountered, it benefited from being located on the side of a mountain, so a lack of space was never really an issue.

Unfortunately, as the shrine has been abandoned and in ruins for quite some time, many of its original pieces have been lost to time, which makes it difficult for most visitors to imagine what it would have originally appeared.

In this section, I’ll focus on the architectural design of the shrine and each of the important pieces that would have made it complete, which I hope helps anyone interested in visiting better understand what they’re experiencing when they visit the shrine today.

Original layout of the shrine from blueprints provided by the New Taipei City Bureau of Cultural Affairs.

For clarity sake, I’m breaking up each of these important pieces into their own section so that I can better introduce their purpose and aspects of their design. Some of this information might be considered too detailed for the average reader, so I’ll attempt to make it as painless as possible. 

Link: Architecture and Sacred Spaces in Shinto (Berkeley ORIAS)

The Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう)

The Visiting Path, otherwise known as the “sando” (さんどう), is one of the most important parts of the design of any Shinto Shrine. As mentioned above, the space reserved for a shrine tends to vary, but given that this shrine is located on a mountain, it is afforded a much longer Visiting Path than most of the other shrines that were constructed in Taiwan.

While these paths serve a functional purpose, they are also quite symbolic in that the “road” is the path that one takes on the road to spiritual purification. Shintoism itself is literally translated as the “Pathway to the Gods” (神道), so having a physical path that leads the worshiper from the realm of the profane to that of the sacred is quite important.

Traditionally, the Visiting Path to a Shinto Shrine is lined symmetrically on both sides with Stone Lanterns (石燈籠), known as ‘toro’ (しゃむしょ), and although some of the lanterns at the shrine have been destroyed, there are still several sets that remain today.

One of the things you’ll want to note about each of the lanterns is that the date that they were donated to the shrine is etched into the stone on the rear of the lantern’s base. Most of the lanterns at the shrine were vandalized at some point over the past half century, but we’re fortunate in that one of the sets is still legible, so we’re able to gather quite a bit of information about its origin. If you’re wondering why the dates would have been scratched out, the reason for this is that for the Japanese, instead of using the western calendar of years, their years are set according to the reigns of the emperors. All of the lanterns at the shrine would have predated the Republic of China’s arrival in Taiwan, so the dates were a reminder of Taiwan’s history that the Chinese Nationalists would have preferred to get rid of.

This is not the work of an artist.

In the case of this shrine, it was constructed in 1936, which was the eleventh year of Emperor Showa’s reign (昭和11年). As it is a habit of mine when identifying these things, I made sure to take a close look at all of the lanterns, and they’ve all been vandalized, but some less so than others.

The Shrine Gates (鳥居 / とりい) 

The Shrine Gates, otherwise known as a “torii," are not a completely foreign object here in Taiwan, as you’ll find that most large temples feature their own variation. Even though most of us in the west traditionally associate these gates as iconic images of Japan, the meaning of the gates here in Taiwan, and across Asia remains the same as once you pass through, you are thought to be crossing from the profane world - which is considered to be unclean, to a sacred place. In Japan, the presence of one (or more) of these gates is one of the simplest ways of identifying that there is a shrine nearby, and also one of the best ways to know that you’re approaching a Shinto Shrine rather than a Buddhist temple.

Note: In proper nomenclature, Shinto places of worship are referred to as ‘shrines’ (社) while Buddhist places of worship are better referred to as temples.

The Golden Shrine was originally home to three of these sacred gates, which stretched from the entrance to the Visiting Path to the inner space of the shrine. Unfortunately, today only two of them remain today.

Traditionally, in Japan, shrine gates are numbered, so this shrine would have had a first gate (一の鳥居) to the third gate (三の鳥居). Although information is somewhat limited with regard to the original design of the shrine, it’s likely that the two gates that remain today are the second and third gates.

The two that do that remain at the shrine today fortunately are the originals (although they’ve recently been restored), and were constructed out of concrete, which is probably why they’ve been able to last for so long.

Like the stone lanterns mentioned above, both of the gates would have featured dates and the names of the people who donated money for their construction, but they’ve all been scratched off, or filled in with cement.

If you visit, you’ll notice that the third gate features as ‘sacred rope’ which is known as a shimenawa (標縄 / しめなわ) hanging from the top. The rope was added back to the gate as part of the restoration effort.

The Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずや)

An important aspect of Shintoism is something known as “hare and ke” (ハレとケ), otherwise known as the "sacred-profane dichotomy." It is thought that once you pass through the shrine gate, which is considered the barrier between the ‘profane’ and the ‘sacred’, it is necessary to do so in the cleanest possible manner by symbolically purifying yourself at the chozuya (ちょうずしゃ), or temizuya (てみずしゃ) provided. A necessity at any Shinto Shrine, the purification fountain is an important tool for symbolically readying yourself for entrance into the sacred realm.

The architectural design of these fountains varies from very simply designed spaces to something that could be regarded as very elaborately designed. Unfortunately, all that remains of the original fountain was part of the base where there would have been water to perform the purification ritual.

As part of the recent restoration of the shrine, a replication of the original fountain’s covered space was added. Although I haven’t seen photos of the original fountain, what they added in the space is unlikely to resemble the original in both its design and the material used to construct it.

Where the replication does help out is that it provides tourists with a spot to protect themselves from the elements on rainy days (of which there are many in that particular area), as well as offering a spot to educate visitors about the history of the shrine with helpful information displays.

Banner Poles (五座旗幟台)

In recent years, some of the most iconic photos of Japan’s Shinto Shrines have been from places like Tokyo’s Nezu Shrine (根津神社 / ねづじんじゃ), where you’ll find hundreds of red Shrine Gates leading up to the shrine. Similarly, quite a few of Japan’s shrines make use of beautiful banners, known as ‘nobori’ (幟 / のぼり).

The long and narrow flags are brilliant in that they are attached to a pole that features a cross-rod at the top to hold the fabric, preventing the flags from furling around the rod. With somewhat of a long and complicated history in Japan, these flags (or banners) typically line the Visiting Path of a Shrine or a Buddhist Temple in great numbers, which can be quite beautiful.

Note: These days, if you visit Japan, you’re likely to also find them used outside of restaurants, for advertisements and for political advertisements, among other uses.

Of all of the historic photos I’ve seen of Taiwan’s historic Shinto Shrines, it seems like few of them used these banners in the way that they were at the Ogon Shrine. As a mountain shrine, the wind on the hill would have been perfect for these flags, adding to the aesthetics.

One of the more predominant features of any of the historic photos you’ll see of the shrine are the giant banners on bamboo poles, and even though the flags are long gone, five of their bases remain along the Visiting Path, and are most apparent next to where the second Shrine Gate once existed.

The Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん)

Known in Japan as the “haiden” (拜殿 /はいでん), for the vast majority of worshipers, it is the spiritual heart of the shrine, and given its importance, it was one of the most architecturally district buildings at the shrine.

Essentially the largest building within the ‘sacred’ space of the shrine, the Hall of Worship was an open space (no walls), with a covered roof propped up by the ten cylindrical columns you see standing there today.

Obviously, given that the shrine is in ruins, and the original building is long gone, it’s difficult for visitors imagine what the original building looked like, but the original columns remain perfectly in place.

As I mentioned earlier, the Second Generation Shrine was constructed with the ancient ‘shinmei-zukuri’  (神明造 / しんめいづくり) architectural design. What this means is that the large columns held up a kirizuma-style (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) gabled roof. Differing from what you’d typically see at larger Shinto Shrines, which feature hip-and-gable roofs, the original roof of the building would have consisted of two inclined surfaces on the front and back, which formed a ridge at the top.

Roofs of this design are essentially meant to resemble and open book, or the Chinese character ‘入’, which you should be able to understand from the diagram provided below.

General layout of shinmei-style architectural design

Considered to be one of the most ‘simplistic’ architectural styles that you’ll come across within the various styles of traditional Japanese architectural design, one of the interesting things about these shrines constructed is that they are generally rebuilt every two or three decades, adhering to the tradition of ‘shikinen sengu’ (神宮式年遷宮/じんぐうしきねんせんぐう), a ritual that provides for the constant renewal of its buildings.

More importantly, as the article linked below explains, the ritual plays a “very important role by enabling the transfer of (our) technical skill and spirit to the next generation. This transfer maintains both our architectural heritage and over 1,000 years of artistic tradition involving the making of the divine treasures.”

Link: [Soul of Japan] Shikinen Sengu, the Ritual of Rebuilding and Renewal (Japan Forward)

The rebuilding and renewal ritual is one that tends to vary between shrines, with some undergoing the process every eighteen to twenty-five years. In this case, the shrine was reconstructed in 1936, which means that it would possibly have been rebuilt again in 1961, 1986, and 2011.

With this in mind, even if the shrine wasn’t vandalized after the end of the Japanese-era, it very likely wouldn’t appear the same today as it would have back when the photos were taken in the late 1930s.

Speaking of those photos, one thing to note is that the roof featured katsuogi (鰹木/かつおぎ) and chigi (千木) ornaments on the top ridge. The katsuogi are long timber-like pieces of wood that rest on the flat base of the roof. While they might seem like a simple decorative element, they’re actually a pretty good indication of the kami that reside within, with an even number indicating a female divinity, while an odd number signifies a male. Taking a close look at the blurry old photos, there were five of them, signifying that the kami enshrined within were all male.

We already knew that, though.

With regard to the ‘chigi’, they can be cut either horizontally or vertically, known as uchi-sogi (内削ぎ) and soto-sogi (外削ぎ) respectively. How they’re cut likewise indicates the kami within, unfortunately, the photos of the Hall of Worship are far too blurry to see their design, but it’s safe to assume given what we know about the shrine that they were cut vertically.  

If you’d like see see both of these elements in action in another one of Taiwan’s historic shrines, I recommend taking a look at my article about Taitung’s Luye Shinto Shrine (鹿野神社).

Links: Shinmei-zukuri | Katsuogi | Chigi (Wiki)

Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん)

Last, but not least, it’s time to introduce the Main Hall, otherwise known as the “honden” (本殿/ほんでん), the most sacred part of any Shinto Shrine, and the home of the gods. 

Traditionally, the Main Hall is the area of a shrine that is off-limits to the general public, and would have only been accessible to the staff who resided at, or took care of the shrine. Obviously that’s not the case today as the building is gone and all that remains is its concrete base.

Located directly behind the Hall of Worship, the Main Hall of the shrine kept with the shinmei-zukuri style of architectural design. In this case however, the much smaller building was placed on an elevated cement base.

Interestingly, when taking a look at the historic photos of the shrine, the height of the Main Hall was altered between the first and second generation designs. So, in some of the photos that you’ll see of the shrine, the rear hall is much smaller than the Hall of Worship in front of it, but in others, it is about the same height.

I won’t spend too much time on the architectural design of the Main Hall as I’d just be repeating what I mentioned earlier - All that remains of the hall today is its original cement base, which is quite beautifully designed in its own right. The base is double-layered with a narrow set of stairs in the middle with pedestals for either stone lanterns or possibly ‘Lion-Dogs’, known in Japan as the komainu (狛犬/こまいぬ) on either side of the stairs.

Today, as you reach the top of the base where the wooden structure would have existed, you’ll find a large stone with the Kanji for ‘donated’ or ‘donation’ (奉納 / ほうのう). With these ‘donations’, they’re usually parts of the shrine, like the gates or the lanterns which were paid for through the donations of private individuals.

I can’t place where this stone in particular came from, but it’s possible that it was once part of the pedestal for one of the Lion-Dogs or the sacred cow that was originally located next to the sacred gate.

Interestingly, given that this was once a place of worship, locals have taken to placing monetary offerings (coins) on the stone as a show of respect to the former shrine, which is quite endearing, but given the amount of vandalism that took place here, it’s also sad that so much of the original shrine has been lost.

Getting There

 

Address: #8 Jinguang Road, Jinguashi, Ruifang District (新北市瑞芳區金瓜石金光路8號)

GPS: 121.85862°E 25.105006°N

There are several convenient methods that will help you get to the Golden Shrine, but for most tourists, the best (and easiest method of explaining to get there is to use the Gold Museum as a starting point.

For the more adventurous, you could always hike Stegosaurus Ridge, Teapot Mountain, or any of the other hiking trails on the mountain where the shrine is located, but I’m just going to spend time introducing the direct route that the vast majority of tourists will take to get there.

How you get to the Gold Museum is up to you, but if you’re asking me for travel advice, I think its best that you hop on one of the buses out of Taipei, and take it directly to the Gold Museum. Don’t get off at Jiufen, go directly to the Gold Museum area and then on your way back by all means, stop at Jiufen. If, on the other hand you have your own means of transportation, you’ll have to keep mind that parking in the area can be a bit expensive.

Car / Scooter

If you have your own means of transportation, I recommend inputting the address or coordinates provided above into your vehicles GPS or Google Maps to map out your route to the museum. Depending on whether you’re coming from Taipei, Keelung, or the east coast, the route is going to be slightly different, so it’s much easier to have it mapped out on your preferred positioning system.

It’s important to keep in mind that the car park for the museum isn’t located at the front entrance along the narrow mountain road, so you’ll want to pay attention to the signs along the road that will point you in the direction of the car park.

Below I’ll provide the official directions to the Gold Museum from its official website (slightly edited for grammar and clarity):

  1. Take the Zhongshan Highway in the direction of Keelung → Exit at Dahua System Interchange→ Exit at Ruifang → Provincial Highway 2 → Turn right on Mingdeng Rd. → Pass though Jiufen and head down the mountain towards Jinguashi → Arrive at the Gold Museum

  2. Take the Zhongshan Highway in the direction of Keelung →  Exit at Dahua System Interchange → Go in the direction of Ruibin → Provincial Highway 2 → Turn right onto North County Road 34→ Arrive at the Gold Museum

  3. From the East Coast take Provincial Highway 2 to Shuinandong car park → Turn left onto North County Road 34 → Arrive at the Gold Museum.

Teapot Mountain (茶壺山) in the distance.

Train

If you elect to take the train as part of your adventure, you’re going to have to keep in mind that you’ll eventually have to switch to a bus at either Keelung Train Station (基隆車站) or Ruifang Train Station (瑞芳車站) as there aren’t any trains that provide direct access to the area.

The most convenient of the two stations with regard to getting to the Gold Museum area is Ruifang Station, but it’s important to note that not all of the trains bound north out of Taipei will get you to that station. If you find yourself on the wrong train, you may have to get off and transfer to another one near Xizhi (汐止車站) or Badu (八堵車站).

That being said, if you’re traveling from Taipei, it’s much faster and more convenient to hop on one of the buses on the list below as they’re direct from the capital. Taking a bus from the city will also ensure that you get a seat as the buses that roll through Ruifang are often packed to the point that they just pass by you when you’re at the bus stop waiting.    

Bus

Conveniently located at the entrance to the Gold Museum, you’ll find the ‘Jinguashi Gold Ecological Park’ (金瓜石 黃金博物館) bus stop. The buses that travel along this route typically pass through Ruifang (瑞芳), Jiufen (九分) and pass by the Golden Waterfall (黃金瀑布) on their way to Shuinandong (水湳洞) along the coast.

Serviced by the following routes, I’ll also provide links to the real time bus information below in addition to where you’re able to hop on:

  • Taipei Bus #788 (台北客運788): City God Temple - Shuinandong (城隍廟-水湳洞)

  • Taipei Bus #825 (台北客運825): Ruifang Station - Gold Museum (瑞芳車站-黃金博物館)

  • Taiwan Tour Bus #856 (台灣好行856): Ruifang - Sandiaojiao (瑞芳-三貂角燈塔)

  • Taipei Bus #965 (台北客運965): Fuzhong - Gushan Elementary (府中捷運站 - 瓜山國小)

  • Bus #1062 (基隆客運1062): Taipei - Jinguashi (台北 - 金瓜石)

  • Bus #F802 (台北客運): Ruifang Train Station - Jinguashi (瑞芳車站 - 金瓜石)

Click on any of the bus routes above for the route map and real-time information for each of the buses. If you haven’t already, I recommend using the Taipei eBus website or downloading the “台北等公車” app to your phone, which makes it easier to map out your trip and find the nearest bus stops to wherever you are located.

Link: Bus Tracker (臺北等公車) - Apple | Android

1. From Taipei - Jinguashi (台北 - 金瓜石博物館)

The easiest route directly from Taipei to the Gold Museum is Bus #1062, which conveniently sets off from Zhongxiao Fuxing MRT Station (忠孝復興捷運站) and also passes by Songshan Train Station (松山車站) and Ruifang Train Station (瑞芳車站). You also have the option of taking Bus #965, where you can hop on at Wanhua Train Station (萬華車站), Ximen MRT Station (西門捷運站) or Beimen MRT Station (北門捷運站).

2. From Keelung - Jinguashi (基隆 - 金瓜石博物館)

From Keelung Train Station (基隆車站) you can tae Bus #788 directly to the Gold Museum.

3. From Banqiao - Jinguashi (板橋 - 金瓜石博物館)

From Banqiao Bus Station (板橋公車站), located next to the train station, you can hop on Bus #965 and take the bus directly to the Gold Museum

4. From Ruifang - Jinguashi (瑞芳 - 金瓜石博物館)

From Ruifang Train Station, you have the option to take a number of buses that are headed up the mountain to Jiufen and the Gold Museum area.

The thing you’ll want to remember is that the bus stop here is more often than not packed with people, so you may find yourself waiting a bit to get on a bus. On the other hand, there are quite a few buses that pass through the area on the way up the mountain, so it may not be too long of a wait.


After being closed for half a decade, the Golden Shrine is finally reopen to the public. As one of the highlights of any visit to Jinguashi or the Gold Museum, I highly recommend the short hike up the mountain to the shrine if you find yourself in the area. Obviously, as a ruined Shinto Shrine, there isn’t much to see, and it is a skeleton of its former self, but its continued existence remains quite significant with regard to the modern history of this beautiful island nation. Rated as one of the most iconic tourist destinations in northern Taiwan, the shrine provides tourists with a pretty great photo opportunity, so even if you’re not as interested in all of this stuff as I am, why not check it out?

References

  1. Ōgon Shrine | 金瓜石神社 (中文) | 黃金神社 (日文) (Wiki)

  2. Ōgon Shrine (Spectral Codex)

  3. List of Shinto Shrines in Taiwan | 台灣神社列表 (Wiki) 

  4. 金瓜石神社 ( 國家文化資產網)

  5. [新北市瑞芳].金瓜石.黃金博物園區 (Tony的自然人文旅記)

  6. 新北市立黃金博物館New Taipei City Gold Museum (Wiki)

  7. 礦山上的台灣最初社-金瓜石神社 (晰誌 | See Zine)

  8. 金瓜石神社 山神祭 (新北市政府)

  9. 金瓜石 | Jinguashi (Wiki)

  10. The Gold Museum in Jinguashi (TaiwanEverything)

  11. 118 Shinto Gods and Goddesses to Know About (Owlcation)

  12. Architecture and Sacred Spaces in Shinto (Berkeley ORIAS)

  13. Encyclopedia of Shinto (Kokugakuin University)

  14. Shinto Architecture (Wikiwand)

  15. Taipower unveils renovated Jinguashi Shinto shrine in New Taipei (FTV News)


Tamsui Police Commissioners Residence (淡水日本警官宿舍)

I’ve you’ve lived in Taiwan long enough, you may have noticed that the Taipei MRT has changed the romanized name it uses for Tamsui Station (淡水捷運站) on a couple of occasions. Whenever these things happen, it usually follows with heated public debate and questions as to why they’re once again wasting money on these unnecessary changes. Suffice to say, whatever ‘official’ reason is given for the change, most people know that they’re actually politically motivated.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I remember during the most recent incident, one of the reasons given for the change to ‘Danshui’ was that International tourists couldn’t pronounce ‘Tamsui’, so they had to change it to something more recognizable. ‘Danshui’ which is the Mandarin pronunciation romanized into Hanyu Pinyin (漢語拼音) was thought to be more foreign-friendly than the original name of the area, ‘Tamsui’, which is the Taiwanese-Hokkien pronunciation. Nevertheless, the change didn’t last very long as it was quickly changed back.   

Given that the area has been referred to as ‘Tamsui’ for hundreds of years, it comes across as a bit odd that there are all of these contemporary naming issues, but Taiwan can be a pretty complicated place at times, and it’s well-known that the Chinese Nationalists were never really big fans of the local language. The irony however, is that during the Japanese-era, the original name remained exactly the same. During that half-century period, ‘Tamsui’ (淡水) simply became known as Tansui (淡水郡 / たんすゐぐん), the Japanese pronunciation of the original name.

Geographically, the Tamsui District (淡水區) of today is considerably smaller than the Tamsui District (淡水郡) of the Japanese era, in that the latter consisted of districts that currently make up New Taipei City’s Shimen District (石門區), Sanzhi District (三芝區) and Bali District (八里區) - known during the Japanese era as Sekimon-sho (石門庄 / せきもんょう), Sanshiba-sho (三芝庄 / さんしょう) and Hachiri-sho (八里庄 / はちりしょう) respectively. The district also included the main town of Tansui (淡水街 / たんすいまち), where a considerable amount of commerce and international trade was taking place.

The area ended up being so vital to the Japanese colonial government that they quickly got to work on the construction of the twenty kilometer-long Tamsui Branch Line (淡水線 / たんすい) that followed the east bank of the Danshui River from the capital. The railway was a game changer for the district, which originally acted as a port of trade with China, in turn sending products down the river into Dadaocheng (大稻埕) or Bangkha (艋舺). The completion of the railway in 1901 allowed for a more efficient process of getting things to the capital, making the port town an important one for the colonial government with regard to transporting things from the Japanese mainland to Taiwan, easing some of the congestion from the other northern port in Keelung (基隆). More importantly however, the branch railway kept the people of the area connected with the capital in a way that ensure that it would always remain an important part of Taipei.

Note: The Tamsui Line consisted of the following stations: Daitotei (大稻埕), Hokumon (北門), Taihoku (台北), Taishogai (大正街), Soren (雙連), Maruyama (圓山), Miyanoshita (宮ノ下), Shirin (士林), Kirigan (石牌), Hokuto (北投), Kanto (關渡), Chikui (竹圍) and Tansui (淡水). For those unaware, these historic stations, which were in service from 1901 (or added in 1915) and make up much of what is today the Red Line (紅線) of the Taipei MRT, which replaced the original railway.

The ability to maintain it’s economic prosperity meant a lot for the people of the area, which is something that continues to be celebrated today with both domestic and international tourists making their way from the city to enjoy the Tamsui Old Street, it’s beautiful riverside, and a large number of historic buildings and tourist destinations. The prosperity enjoyed by the people of Tamsui during the colonial era is clearly visible along the old street today, where the architectural design of the buildings is indicative of what we’ve come to expect from any of the historic “Old Streets” (老街) that have been converted into tourist destinations.

Covering an area of 227km², and with a population of nearly 60,000, Tamsui was one of the many districts under the governance of Taihoku Prefecture (台北州 / たいほくしゅう). In 1920 (大正9年) however, the colonial government refined and redistricted Taiwan’s geographic and administrative system. This was when  ‘Tansui District’ (淡水郡), or county depending on your translation, was brought to life. The changes in administrative control required the construction of a new town hall, namely the Tamsui Town Office (淡水郡役所 / たんすゐぐんやくしょ) in addition to a number of new civic buildings in the port town including the post office, telecommunications office, etc. Likewise, even though there was already a police presence in the area, the redistricting now meant that police service in the area would be carried out by the local Tamsui Police Branch (淡水郡警察課) of the Taihoku Prefectural Police Service (台北州警務部).

All of this new local governance brought with it a number of important positions that had to be filled, similarly requiring a number of new official residences. While there were already a number of official residences in the area made available for teachers, police and other civil servants, the redistricting required the construction of housing for the mayor and the police chief, among others. Unfortunately, unlike a lot of other areas around the country, many of these official residences in Tamsui have already been torn down to make way for modern construction projects, making the few that remain quite important. Today, I’ll be introducing one of them, namely the former residence of the Tamsui Police Chief.

Recently restored and re-opened to the public as a tourist destination, the house is one of the few remaining wooden residences in Tamsui today, and given its proximity to the old street, it makes for an interesting stop if you find yourself in the area for the day.

As always, I’ll start by explaining the history of the residence, followed by its architectural design, and then end by offering directions on how to get there.

Tamsui Police Chief’s Residence (淡水日本警官宿舍)

Coinciding with the establishment of Tamsui District in the 1921 redistribution of Taiwan’s administrative regions, a number of buildings were constructed within the port town to facilitate the administrative upgrade the town was receiving. One of those buildings was the official residence provided to the district’s Police Chief.

Constructed a short distance from the Town Office mentioned above, the modest residence was built on the side of a hill that overlooked the bustling commercial area of Tamsui and the river, with a nice view of Guanyin Mountain in the distance. In terms of it’s size, the Japanese-Western fusion style residence was modest to say the least, especially in comparison to some of its contemporaries.

Unfortunately for all of the Police Chiefs who served in Tamsui over the next two and a half decades of the colonial era, and then into the post-war era, the building was constructed a year prior to the Governor General’s Office enacting a law (台灣總督府官舍建築標準) regarding official building standards in Taiwan - Those new standards specified a clear set of regulations regarding the size of buildings provided for civil servants of various ranks, divided between Senior Officials (高等官 / こうとうかん) and Junior Officials (判任官 / はんにんかん). Meant to improve the living standards in the housing provided for civil servants as well as to encourage staff to work hard and earn a promotion in order to receive more comfortable housing for their families.

Granted, the Police Chief of Tamsui District wouldn’t have been on the same level of the bureaucratic hierarchy as the Police Commissioner of Hsinchu, but if you compare the two residences, you’ll notice a considerable difference in their size.

Link: Shinchiku Police Commissioner's Residence (新竹州警務部部長官舍)

According to my research for the article linked above, under the new housing system, the Police Commissioner’s Official Residence was classified as a Level Two Senior Official (高等官官舍第二種) house, meaning that the building should be at least 165㎡ (50坪) in size accompanied, by a plot of land that was at least 1003㎡ (303.5坪). The Tamsui District Police Chief (淡水郡警察課長), however would have been considered a Level Four Senior Official (高等官官舍第四種) and thus would have been afforded a residence up to 109㎡ (33坪) in size, with a plot of land up to 440㎡ (132坪). Constructed a year prior to the new regulations, the residence is 73㎡ (22坪) in size and the total size of the land is 241㎡ (73坪), considerably smaller than it would have been if it were constructed a year later.

If you’re wondering why I’ve gone off on this size tangent, the answer comes in a few different forms - The first being that it would have been one of the reasons that the position as the Police Chief of Tamsui district would have been considered a stepping-stone to something bigger and better. This will become more obvious in the list of residents I’m providing below. The second reason is that in the post-war era, the residence continued to be occupied by the local police chief, but when the housing crisis in Taiwan (brought on by the influx of several million Chinese refugees) stabilized, officials elected to find their own housing.

Below you’ll find a list of the residents of the building during the Japanese era, or at least from 1921-1945. You’ll notice there was quite a turn around for these Police Chiefs, but it’s not that the job was terrible, as mentioned above, it was essentially a position that would have propelled people to bigger and better things. In each case though, whether it was for a few years, or a few months, the residence was made available to the chief and his family.

Japanese-era Residents (淡水郡警察課長)

  1. 1921 (大正10年) 竹內健藏

  2. 1924 (大正13年) 高橋秀二

  3. 1924 (大正13年) 手貝千代志

  4. 1925 (大正14年) 倉持泰

  5. 1926 (昭和元年) 高橋政吉

  6. 1927 (昭和2年) 小泉清

  7. 1928 (昭和3年) 蘆田俊

  8. 1931 (昭和6年) 酒井林藏

  9. 1936 (昭和11年) 金丸繁治

  10. 1938 (昭和13年) 清水增吉

  11. 1939 (昭和14年) 久保田豐太郎

  12. 1941 (昭和16年) 神代文治

When Japan surrendered at the end of the Second World War, the shame of defeat was too much for some of it citizens, especially for some of the police who had also served as members of the military. In what is possibly the first case I’ve come across where something like this happened, the humiliation of defeat was so unbearable that two of the residents of the house hung themselves inside, which would cause some complications during the post-war era.

From what I found during my research, the residence continued to serve as the official residence for the Police Chief of Tamsui in the post-war era - The thing is though, that no one lived in the building until a few years after the arrival of the Chinese Nationalists. Given the housing crisis that took place in the early years of the Nationalists retreat to Taiwan, it’s a bit strange. The reason for this, I’m assuming was based on a couple of different reasons - The first is that the house was constructed on the site of a Qing-era graveyard. The second is that the two Japanese who hung themselves in the building would have made it a ‘haunted house’ (凶宅) according to Chinese cultural standards.

It wasn’t until 1951 (民國40年) that the house started being occupied again. Similar to what happened during the Japanese era, the men who served as Police Chief in Tamsui only ever lasted for a few years, with the house being occupied by a number of police chiefs, including Sun Zhao (孫肇), He Qi (何琦), Chang Yifei (張一飛), Chang Jianxun (張建勳) and Jin Fuhai (金福海). Going back to a point I made earlier though, as the housing situation stabilized in Taiwan, few actually wanted to continue living in the residence provided to them.

Thus, the last official residents of the building were the Deputy Police Chief (淡水警分局副分局長), Jin Fuhai and his wife Lin Meimei (林美美) who moved into the residence in 1968 (民國57年). Living in the house long after the death of her husband, Lin Meimei enjoyed the comfort of the historic building for well over four decades until she moved out in 2007 (民國96年). Ms. Lin could have lived out the rest of her life in the house, but even though she absolutely loved all the time she spent there, she also recognized that if she continued living there, the nearly one-hundred year old historic property would eventually be lost completely, like so many of Taiwan’s other historic buildings. Vacating the residence in 2007, the building was quickly registered as a protected New Taipei City Historic Property (新北市歷史建築) that same year, with plans to have it restored.

Sitting abandoned for over half a decade, Ms. Lin was unimpressed with the long bureaucratic process that slowed down the restoration of the building and it’s reported that she pressed authorities on several occasions throughout the years to start the restoration work before it was too late. Still, it took until 2013 for the government to send researchers to the building to start the process of documenting the building and coming up with a plan for its restoration. The restoration proposal was completed in 2015 and the government opened up a tender for companies to bid on the project. Finally, twelve years after Ms. Lin moved out, the historic residence was reopened to the public in December of 2019 under the operational control of the Tamsui Historical Museum (淡水古蹟博物館), which curates a number of exhibits within the many historic buildings in the area.

Although it may seem like I was criticising the size of the building earlier, it is actually one of the buildings strongest aspects at the moment as they haven’t been able to fill it with a bunch of pointless exhibition pieces; It’s possible that this could change in the future, but during my visit, I highly enjoyed that the few things put on display within the building focused solely on its history and architectural design. They didn’t add a bunch of needless display pieces to take up space, they just left the building open, which allows visitors to enjoy the space a lot more than a lot of the other buildings that have been restored in recent years.

Now that I’ve gone over a bit of the history of the building, I’m going to spend some time explaining its architectural design.

Architectural Design

I had a bit of a good time with some of the ‘official’ descriptions of the residence’s architectural design, especially those coming from the government - Described as a fusion-style of architectural design, some of the information available about the building from the tourism bureau will claim that it is a fusion of Japanese, Western and Taiwanese design. While that is partly true, the building was originally designed as a Japanese-Western fusion (和洋並置), with what I suppose you could refer to as ‘Taiwanese’ elements added to the building in the post-war era.

The problem with describing these additions as ‘Taiwanese’ elements however doesn’t give much credit to Taiwanese architectural design. The residence was expanded during the stay of Police Chief Sun Zhao (孫肇), who lived there for seven years from 1951-1958. The expansion which merely added a reinforced concrete section to the back of the house provided a bit more space, but wasn’t inherently ‘Taiwanese’ in design, so I’d go as far as to say that anyone who makes these claims is doing a disservice to traditional Taiwanese design.

For you naysayers, I assure you, there is far more to Taiwanese architectural design than the pouring of concrete.

Not sure what happened here. It’s probably where the restoration team removed some of the additions.

As mentioned above, the residence is a total of 73㎡ (22坪), making it quite small in terms of Japanese-era houses. Nevertheless, the layout of the building adheres to traditional Japanese architectural design with the interior space divided into three separate spaces, a living space (起居空間), a service space (服務空間) and a passage space (通行空間). To explain, the “living space” is essentially a multi-functional space where the residents spend time together having meals, drinking tea and sleeping. The “service space” on the other hand includes a number of functional spaces including the kitchen, bathroom, washroom, etc. Finally, the “passage space” generally refers to the various entrances, and the corridors within. One of the important things to keep in mind with regard to traditional Japanese-style residences like this is that the fusion of all three of these spaces skillfully separates the ‘public’ parts of the home from the ‘private’ through the usage of walls, sliding doors and corridors that reach around the building.

As I’ve done in the past, I’ll make use of the floor plan to briefly introduce each of the various spaces within the residence to better explain their function. To make things easier to understand, I’ve numbered each of the space on the plan above so that you know which part of the house I’m referring to:

Passage Space (通行空間)

(1) The front entrance, or the ‘foyer’ to the residence is known in Japan as a ‘genkan’ (玄關 / げんかん), and features compartments for shoes, umbrellas, etc. The foyer is located on ground-level as opposed to the rest of the building, which is elevated. Once you enter the building you’ll find a set of stairs that brings you up to the core parts of the building. As part of the separation of the public and private parts of the home, the foyer has two doors, one directly ahead that leads to the private space and another on the left that leads to the reception room.

(2) Regarded as a ‘transitionary’ space, the ‘toritsugi’ (取次 / とりつぎ), or the second foyer was directly in front of the main entrance to the residence. Once you walked up the stairs to the main area, you’d find a small space with another set of sliding doors that opened up to the tea room. This space is somewhat ceremonial, but also functional in that it offers another storage space for coats, while the space below was reserved for shoes and umbrellas.

(3) What I’d consider the best part of living in this house, and the part of every traditional Japanese home that I appreciate the most is what is know as the ‘engawa’ (緣側/えんがわ). This is essentially a wide corridor on the side of the building that overlooks the river and features sliding glass doors that open up to the yard in addition to sliding panels that open up to the living space, with another door connecting to the guest space. The sliding glass doors would have allowed for a significant amount of natural air to breeze through the residence, offering a natural air conditioner of sorts, but the best part of this space is that the residents could spend hours sitting on the covered veranda watching the hustle and bustle of the street below as well as the boats passing by in the river.

Finally, within the building you’ll find a number of corridors that connect each of the spaces with each other. I haven’t listed each of them on the photo above, but the ‘rou’ (廊 / ろう) are essential in these buildings as they play an integral part in separating each of the spaces. Most of them are located on the northern and southern sections of the building, with the middle section reserved as the living space.

Living Space (起居空間)

(5-6) Within the private area, you’ll find the most spacious area of the home, which is typically separated into two sections known as the ‘zashiki’ (座敷 / ざしき) and the ‘ima’ (居間 / いま), which together act as what we’d consider a ‘living room’ and a ‘bedroom’ however, they’re a bit more complex than that. Within the ‘ima’ section, which acts as the sleeping space, you’ll find alcoves known as ‘oshiire’ (押入 / おしいれ), which are used for storing bedding during the day.

Likewise, within the ‘zashiki’ you’d find similar alcoves known as tokonoma (床の間/とこのま) and chigaidana (違棚 / ちがいだな), which are both spaces reserved for decorative elements of the living space. In these traditional homes, sleeping spaces were communal, and the living space was used by the family as a space to hang out, or entertain close friends.

The important thing to remember is that during the day all of the clutter would have been stored away, making these two spaces quite open and enjoyable. One of the things to take note of when you’re in the living space are the sliding wooden panels that can be closed to separate the two spaces. These panels are said to be originals and feature some beautiful calligraphy-style paintings on either side.

(7) Separated from the foyer and the waiting room by a sliding door, you’d find what was known as the tea room (茶之間 / ちゃのま), which essentially served as the dining room as it was connected directly to the kitchen. In smaller residences like these, the tea room also acted as a reading room (書齋 / しょさい) when the larger reception space wasn’t being used.

(8) One of the spaces that was extended over the years, the ‘ousetsushitsu’ (應接室 / おうせつしつ) could go by a number of names in English; Essentially it was a meeting room, or a space where residents could receive guests. Over the years, the various Police Chiefs likely received guests during their off-hours to discuss work-related issues. Separated from the private area of the living space, it was connected to the rest of the house by the ‘foyer’ and the ‘veranda’ making it easily accessible whenever anyone visited. This is one of the ‘fusion’ areas of the house though as it was also considered a ‘western style’ living room with sofas and later a television, etc. Located in the southern corner of the house, the room would have had a nice view of the river and the afternoon sun.

Service Space (服務空間)

Finally, the ‘service space’ is admittedly the most difficult space of the building to explain, as most of it is not open to the public. These space were restored along with the rest of the building, but are currently occupied as spaces by the administration of the building as storage space. Nevertheless, for clarity sake, the service space included the (9) lavatory (便所 / べんじょ), the (10) kitchen (台所 / だいどころ) and the (11) bathroom (風呂 / ふろ). Truth be told though, tourists aren’t probably all that interested in checking out a one-hundred year old bathroom, right?

Now that I’ve explained the interior, let’s take a few minutes to talk about the exterior of the building. Constructed in the irimoya-zukuri (入母屋造) style of design, which basically means that the base of the building is smaller than the roof, the weight of which is supported by a network of trusses (屋架) in the ceiling that helps to support the weight of the four-sided sloped hip roof (四坡頂). However, when you look at the roof from above today, it is clear that the shape of the original roof has been altered considerably. Likewise, the the original roof tiles were replaced with plastic-looking tiles and the onigawara (鬼瓦) end tiles have all been replaced. Also, the wooden shitamiita (下見版 / したみいた) siding on the buildings has been replaced. They are currently quite dark in color, but as they age the colors will fade.

Although the additions to the building over the past century have increased its size, they have also altered the original shape. The space in front of the veranda is quite narrow as it overlooks the hill, while the space on the ends of the building on the kitchen side as well as the meeting room side have reduced the size of the space in the yard. These additions however haven’t really been reflected well in the restoration of the building, which offers a pretty good view of what the building would have originally looked like, with the additions making up the administrative sections of the building.

Getting There

 

Address: #5, Alley #12, Zhongzheng Road, Danshui (新北市淡水區中正路12巷5號)

GPS: 25.170740, 121.439940

Located within the heart of Tamsui’s Historic Old Street (淡水老街), the former Police Chief’s dorm sits on prime real estate just to the rear of what would have been one of the most important places of worship in town. A short walk up a set of stairs to the rear of Fuyou Temple (淡水福佑宮), otherwise known as the Tamsui Mazu Temple (淡水媽祖廟), the former residence is within walking distance of both the Tamsui MRT Station (淡水捷運站) as well as the Tamsui Ferryboat Wharf (淡水渡船碼頭), making getting there rather easy.

Taking into consideration that the Tamsui Old Street is quite narrow, your best option for getting to any of the tourist destinations in the area is to simply walk. The stretch of Zhongzheng Road (中正路) where the temple is located is quite narrow, making it difficult for buses to get in and out, but makes it great for pedestrian traffic with wide sidewalks.

From the Tamsui MRT Station, the walk to Fuyou Temple is about 550 meters, an estimated six minute trip according to Google Maps. To get there simply walk out of the MRT station and walk straight until you find yourself on Zhongzheng Road. Once you find yourself on the Old Street, simply walk straight until you reach Fuyou Temple. On either side of the temple you’ll notice a set of stone stairs that leads you up behind the historic temple to the residence, in addition to a neighborhood that overlooks the harbor and is close to a number of other historic tourist destinations.

While you’re in the area, in addition to the historic old street and the riverfront, you may want to also consider visiting the Tamsui Longshan Temple (淡水龍山寺), Tamsui Qingshui Temple (淡水清水巖), the Tamsui Customs Officers’ Residence (小白宮), the Tamsui Presbyterian Church (長老教會淡水教會) and the Huwei MacKay Hospital (滬尾偕醫館), all of which are within walking distance of the old street. Similarly, you may also want to visit Fort San Domingo (淡水紅毛城), the Tamsui Martyrs Shrine (新北市忠烈祠) or the Tamsui Fisherman’s Wharf (淡水漁人碼頭), which are both a little further away.

Recently restored and reopened to the public, the Japanese-era Police Chief’s residence is probably one of the lesser known of Tamsui’s tourist attractions, but that also makes it one of the most relaxing places to visit. There isn’t a whole lot to see when you visit the house, but the building has a great view of the harbor and you may want to sit on the veranda to take a break from your travels prior to moving on to your next destination. If you find yourself visiting on a hot day, the respite from the sun should be a welcome-enough experience for a weary traveler, especially with the peace and quiet offered by the house.

References

  1. 淡水日本警官宿舍 (Wiki)

  2. 淡水郡 | 淡水街 | 台北州 | 淡水線 (Wiki)

  3. 淡水日本警官宿舍 (淡水維基館)

  4. 淡水日本警官宿舍 (國家文化資產網)

  5. 新北市歷史建築淡水日本警官宿舍修復或再利用計畫 (新北市政府文化局)

  6. 終於修復完工!淡水「日本警官宿舍」開放參觀,重現日治時期「和洋折衷式」建築風貌 (Shopping Design)

  7. 淡水重建街添一好拍景點 超美日本高階警官宿舍今開放 (新北市政府警察局板橋分局)

  8. 日本警官宿舍 見證日本警察統治的漢人社會 (國家文化記憶庫)

  9. 淡水老街又ㄧ重要歷史建築將獲保存 前縣議員林美美老宿舍可望指定為歷史建築 (許慧明 / 淡水文化基金會)


Manyueyuan Forest Recreation Park (滿月圓國家森林遊樂區)

Virgin Waterfall

After seven years, it’s about time for a much needed update to this article.

One of the first blog posts I published on this website, the first version of this article was posted when I was still quite new to this whole travel writing thing. Actually, now that I look back, even though the original had some nice photos, it embarrassingly contained very little usable information. So after more than half a decade, I figured it was about time to address that problem.

My writing style has evolved quite a bit over the years, and so has the way I present information on this blog, so I’ve written an entirely new article that will combine both old and new photos to give readers a better idea what this beautiful natural space has to offer.

Suffice to say, if you haven’t had the chance to visit the Manyueyuan Forest Recreation Park, you’re not exactly alone.

The park tends to be quite a popular one with domestic tourists, but hasn’t really appeared on the radar of international tourists yet, which is quite unfortunate. As one of only two of Taiwan’s designated ‘National Forest Recreation Parks’ located within the greater Taipei region, Manyueyuan serves as a great escape for weekend tourists wanting to get a taste of Taiwan’s stunning natural environment.

This massive forest reserve is home to a number of mountains, one of New Taipei’s most important rivers, several waterfalls, a number of hiking trails, and just so happens to be a great spot for bird and butterfly watching. Even better, a trip to the park can also be combined with a number of other popular tourist attractions within the area, making a day-trip there an eventful one.

Unfortunately, the one drawback is that getting to the park can be a bit of a hassle, especially for international tourists, as public transportation options are limited. Thankfully, there are now tour groups like Parkbus, which offer group trips to the park (and other hard to reach mountainous areas around the Taiwan), so if you’re interested in that kind of thing, I highly recommend checking them out as they’ll take care of all your travel-related headaches.

Link: Manyueyuan National Forest Recreation Area 滿月圓國家森林遊樂區 (Parkbus)

That being said, getting to the park on your own isn’t impossible, and I hope that this article will help to show you why all the effort it takes to get there is worth it.

In this updated version, I’ll introduce the park, the beautiful waterfalls within as well as the various hiking trails you’ll be able to enjoy when you visit. To start though, lets first take a look at Taiwan’s National Forest Recreation Parks, so that you can have a better idea of what’s actually going on in these environmental sanctuaries.

National Forest Recreation Parks (國家森林遊樂區)

Established by the Forestry Bureau in 1965 (民國54年), the government has designated a number of Taiwan’s mountainous areas as protected ‘Forest Recreation Parks’ (國家森林遊樂區). Over the six decades since these protected areas were established, the number of parks on the list has grown significantly, with many of them once utilized by the Forestry Bureau for the purpose of extracting natural resources.

Currently there are twenty-two designated areas around the country that have established Forest Recreation Parks, but that list of parks can often be somewhat confusing, even for locals, given that they often receive slightly different designations, and may or may not be included within what are considered National Parks (國家公園) or National Scenic Areas (國家級風景特定區). Officially, the list includes some twenty-two established areas, which are classified simply as ‘Forest Parks’ or ‘Forest Wetland Parks’, making the actual number of these spaces slightly misleading, given that they differ greatly in size and scope.

Nevertheless, no matter how you classify them, these parks range from tropical monsoon forests in the south and east of the country to temperate high-mountain forests in northern and central Taiwan. In each case, the Forestry Bureau has developed a system of walking paths and hiking trails within where visitors are able to enjoy the natural beauty of Taiwan at their leisure.

Below, I’ve compiled a list of the (current) areas classified as 'Forest Recreation Areas,’ each of which have become popular with local and international tourists, with a few of them becoming rather iconic.

    1. Taipingshan Forest Recreation Area (太平山國家森林遊樂區)

    2. Manyueyuan Forest Recreation Area (滿月圓國家森林遊樂區)

    3. Neidong Forest Recreation Area (內洞國家森林遊樂區)

    4. Dongyanshan Forest Recreation Area (東眼山國家森林遊樂區)

    5. Guanwu Forest Recreation Area (觀霧國家森林遊樂區)

    6. Mingchih Forest Recreation Area (明池國家森林遊樂區)

    7. Wuling Forest Recreation Area (武陵國家森林遊樂區)

    8. Basianshan Forest Recreation Area (八仙山國家森林遊樂區)

    9. Dasyueshan Forest Recreation Area (大雪山國家森林遊樂區)

    10. Hehuanshan Forest Recreation Area (合歡山國家森林遊樂區)

    11. Aowanda Forest Recreation Area (奧萬大國家森林遊樂區)

    12. Alishan Forest Recreation Area (阿里山國家森林遊樂區)

    13. Tengjhih Forest Recreation Area (藤枝國家森林遊樂區)

    14. Kenting Forest Recreation Area (墾丁國家森林遊樂區)

    15. Shuangliu Forest Recreation Area (雙流國家森林遊樂區)

    16. Jhihben Forest Recreation Area (知本國家森林遊樂區)

    17. Siangyang Forest Recreation Area (向陽國家森林遊樂區)

    18. Chihnan Forest Recreation Area (池南國家森林遊樂區)

    19. Fuyuan Forest Recreation Area (富源國家森林遊樂區)

Manyueyuan Forest Recreation Park

Hiking trails through the park

The Manyueyuan Forest Recreation Park (滿月圓森林遊樂區) is located on the territorial border between New Taipei City’s Sanxia District (三峽區) and Taoyuan county’s northern Fuxing District (復興區). As one of two designated forest parks in the greater Taipei area, the park is an invaluable environmental sanctuary in addition to being a pretty popular tourist attraction, with people traveling from around the country to visit. Consisting of 1573 acres of protected land, a number of forest trails, and some really beautiful waterfalls, a visit to the park has a little something for everyone looking to enjoy the outdoors.

Located within the mountainous area just outside of Sanxia, the Manyueyuan Forest Park is situated on land that combines parts of Manyueyuan Mountain (滿月圓山), Southern Xiongkong Mountain (熊空南山), Beichatian Mountain (北插天山), Laka Mountain (拉卡山) and Dongyan Mountain (東眼山). The elevation within the park ranges between 300 meters to 1700 meters above sea level, offering visitors and adventurous hikers a glimpse of Taiwan’s various temperate environments within a single space.

That being said, the mountains aren’t the only important natural aspect of the park as it is also home to the Ruizai Creek (蚋仔溪), which is a tributary to the Dabao River (大豹溪), one of New Taipei City’s most important rivers. Working hand-in-hand with the mountainous habitat, Ruizui Creek flows through the park, and over the years has crafted a beautiful river valley, acting as the lifeblood of the park, and as the source of the various waterfalls within.

While Manyueyuan is a protected forest sanctuary today, the area was originally the native home of the Llyung Topa (拉流斗霸), a tribe of Tayal Indigenous people (泰雅族), who made their homes along the river. More commonly known today as the Dabao Tribe (大豹社), named after the Dabao River (大豹溪), the people who lived in the area were essentially forced from their homes further into the mountains, first by the Qing and then later the Japanese.

When the Qing government removed its prohibition regarding entering Taiwan’s mountainous regions (開山撫番), Chinese inhabitants of Taiwan started a violent effort to force their way into the mountains of Sanxia in order to extract the area’s rich camphor reserves. This campaign resulted in what is referred to as the Takoham Incident (大嵙崁社事件), a violent affair that left many on both sides dead. Then, when the Japanese took control of Taiwan in 1895 (明治28年), a similar push into the mountains took place, resulting in guerilla-style warfare and unfortunately ended with a well-equipped army marching into the mountains and forcing the Indigenous people to leave their ancestral homeland.

It goes without saying that the encroachment of the Japanese on indigenous territories across the island often resulted in violence and misery for Taiwan’s indigenous people, but as they stood in the way of the empire’s ambition for the extraction of the island’s precious natural resources, the violence was relentless and unforgiving.

Ironically, there’s (somewhat of a hidden) Japanese memorial to the members of the Japanese army who were killed during the conflict on a mountain near Manyueyuan. Not many people know about it, but it is a sad reminder of the historic suffering of the Dabao Tribe. I recommend giving the article linked below a read if you’re interested in a rare English-language article dedicated to the history of what happened to the Llyung Topa people.

Link: Sanxia Loyal Spirit Monument (三峽忠魂碑)

Serving as a base for the extraction of the area’s rich reserve of camphor, the Manyueyuan area was also part of a Japanese reforestation effort that brought prized Japanese cedar (柳杉) to Taiwan for future extraction. Nevertheless, unlike the neighboring Dongyanshan Forest Recreation Area (東眼山國家森林遊樂區), little evidence remains of the historic logging industry within the park today. That being said, the cedar that was planted by the Japanese has been given well over a century to grow, creating a beautiful forest that boasts a wide variety of local and imported trees.

Note: Manyueyuan Forest Park is one of the best locations in Northern Taiwan to view the changing colors of the maple leaves. However, when this does happen, the park tends to explode with visitors, as it is probably one of the most popular times of the year to visit. For a Canadian like myself, there’s a bit of nostalgia to see the red and yellow maple trees, but if you choose this time of the year to visit, you’re also going to have to put up with a lot of traffic as well.

With the decline of the camphor industry in the 1960s, the Forestry Bureau (林務局) moved almost everything out of the area and later reserved an estimated 1,500 hectares of land to be eventually converted into a protected ‘Forest Recreation Park’ (國家森林遊樂區). The Manyueyuan Forest Recreation Park, named after Manyueyuan Mountain (滿月圓山) opened to the public in 1988 (民國77年), providing the people of Taiwan with a beautiful natural sanctuary, a short distance from the capital. Over the three decades that the the park has been open to the public, it has undergone a number of changes, but the important thing to keep in mind is that it remains a sustainable natural habitat for Taiwan’s wildlife, a protected forest reserve, and a popular tourist attraction.

However, even though the park famously combines both the mountains and the river, it would be an understatement to say that it also provides a very healthy habitat for wildlife, unfortunately, that hasn’t always been the case.

Taking into consideration the history of the forest and the harvesting of its natural resources over the past century, many of the area’s original human and wildlife residents moved to safer areas higher up in the mountains. The good news though is that thanks to the reforestation effort, and several long periods of closure (for a period of renovation, and then again during the COVID-19 pandemic), the park has started to come alive again. Recently installed motion-activated infrared cameras have started to show a significant return of the area’s wildlife. The cameras, which are used to collect data on the wildlife within the park, have recorded an increase in sightings of rare mammal and bird species that have made their return to the area.

Link: Sightings of elusive wildlife on the rise in Manyueyuan (Taipei Times)

The most visible (and less disturbed by human activity) are the Formosan Rock Macaques (台灣獼猴), which most visitors to the park are likely to encounter at some point foraging for food in the trees along the trails. If you’re lucky, you might also encounter Formosan Red-Bellied Squirrels (赤腹松鼠), Reeves’ muntjacs (台灣山羌), crab-eating mongooses (食蟹獴), ferret-badgers (鼬獾), Swinhoe's pheasants (藍腹鷴) and Taiwan bamboo partridges (台灣竹雞). The park is also home to a wide variety of other birds, reptiles and amphibians, and during the spring and summer months, an impressive variety of butterflies, making it an ideal location for bird watchers, who you’re likely to encounter in the forest taking photos of the over fifty different species of birds in the park.

That being said, Manyueyuan is often referred to by locals as a ‘Waterfall Paradise’ (瀑布天堂), and even though the forest trails, bird and butterfly watching attract visitors on a regular basis, the park’s beautiful waterfalls are probably one of the biggest reasons why so many people visit. Below, I’ll introduce each of the waterfalls as well as a few of the other important points of interest within the park before moving on to introducing the various hiking trails that are open to the public.

Manyueyuan Waterfall (滿月圓瀑布)

Manyueyuan Waterfall, which is be literally translated as “Full Moon Waterfall” is a twenty-meter high waterfall that can be viewed from several different vantage points. Unfortunately, no matter which side you’re viewing the steep waterfall from, you can’t really get a full view of it as half of it is obscured by a large stone.

Note: Due to it being obscured in this way, the waterfall has been nicknamed by locals as a ‘dragon waving its tail’ (神龍擺尾) because you can see the top of the falls, but not the bottom. I don’t particularly get the analogy, but it’s probably quite clever.

As you approach the falls along the hiking trail, there is a trail that climbs up a hill high above the falls on the right where you’ll find a covered pavilion where you can sit and enjoy the beauty of the falls. On the other hand, as you approach the falls, you’ll have to cross the “Full Moon Bridge” (滿月小橋) where you can enjoy the beauty of the river valley, and the lower section of the waterfall as it reappears from behind the large rock. Once you pass the bridge, you’ll walk up a set of stairs to the left of the waterfall that will take you to a platform space at the top of the falls.

Personally, I recommend anyone who visits the park to climb the hill to the right of the waterfall just before you reach the bridge as it offers a panoramic view of the falls from above, which is the best vantage point.

Silver Curtain Waterfall (銀簾瀑布)

Located not too far away from the top of the Manyueyuan Waterfall, you’ll find the Silver Curtain Waterfall. While not as large or impressive as the other two waterfalls within the park, the two meter high and five meter wide falls can be quite beautiful in the right light, especially if you are lucky enough to visit on a day when the sunlight is shining over the falls, which creates the ‘silver curtain’ effect.

To reach the falls, simply continue walking past the top of the Manyueyuan Waterfall until you reach the end of the flat stone area. The end of the trail is marked by guard rails, which have been put in place to prevent anyone from getting too close to the water.

Virgin Waterfall (處女瀑布)

What I personally consider the star attraction of the park, the (oddly named) ‘Virgin Waterfall’ is located along the left tributary of the Ruizai Creek. The twenty-five meter high cascading waterfall a stunning sight whenever you visit, but if you’re visiting on a sunny day, the waterfall is going to treat you to a beautiful rainbow display, created by a mixture of the light and mist. The probability of seeing the rainbow created by the waterfall is pretty high, but you may have to be patient, so I recommend if you are planning a visit to the park, plan to have a picnic or a rest while on one of the waterfall viewing platforms, so that you can get a glimpse of the light show.

Conveniently located next to the waterfall you’ll find a three-storey viewing platform that features benches on each of its level and offers beautiful vantage points to take photos of the waterfall. Sitting in the gazebo on a hot day is both calm and comforting as the waterfall treats visitors to a cool mist that acts like a natural air-conditioner, while it also dazzles with its rainbow displays.

And just to let you know, I have been lucky enough to see a rainbow at the waterfall every time I’ve visited the park, so I’m sure that if you’re patient enough, you’ll be treated with one as well.

Tourist Visitor Center (遊客中心)

The recently completed Visitor Center is located along the main hiking trail that visitors will take from the front gate prior to reaching any of the other hiking trails within the park. The large buildings are beautifully designed and feature washrooms for guests in addition to some impressive and informative displays about the natural environment within the park. The three exhibition spaces within the tourist visitor center are the Forest Building (森林館), River Building (溪流館) and the Butterfly Building (蝴蝶館), each of which has been opened within the last few years and features exhibitions that are probably more suitable for children, but are quite enjoyable nonetheless.

Refreshment Station (森林小舖)

Within the park, you’ll also find a small, but beautiful canteen, where a number of snacks and drinks are available for hungry hikers. The menu within the canteen tends to change quite regularly, but you can expect local snacks like dumplings, braised tea eggs, buns, rice dumplings, etc. There also a variety of hot teas, coffee and Taiwanese soups available. For the less adventurous, there are a number of packaged instant noodle options.

The prices within the shop are pretty much what you’d expect from any eatery around Taiwan, so don’t worry about it being a tourist trap.

Manyueyuan Hiking Trails (滿月圓健行步道)

Now that I’ve introduced the waterfalls and various points of interest within the park, I’m going to take some time to introduce the network of trails that have been set up for all our of enjoyment. The trails within the park are all well-developed and well-maintained, some of which have been recently given a fresh coat of paint, making them quite accessible for people of all ages.

That being said, not every trail within the park is considered ‘easy’ and although most of them are quite leisurely, it’s important that visitors keep track of where they are and where they intend to visit while in the park so that they don’t miss out.

Its also important to point out that even though most of the trails well-developed, not all of them are accessible for visitors with certain physical disabilities, or those with strollers. The Virgin Waterfall trail for example has quite a few stairs, making it relatively difficult if you’re traveling with a small child. So if you’d like to hike these trails, you might want to find a spot to fold up your stroller and leave it behind.

Ruizai Creek Ecological Trail (蚋仔溪生態步道)

The Ruizai Creek Ecological Trail is essentially just a newly developed trail that curves its way the park’s four designated parking lots, leading up the main entrance to the park. The trail is more or less just an added bonus to the rest of the park as it is just an off-shoot of the parking lot from the main road and provides visitors with the opportunity to check out the wide river basin prior to it joining up with the much larger Dabao River downstream. It also allows you to avoid any of the cars and scooters coming and going on the road to the other parking lots.

Total Length: 800 meters

Time Required: 20 minutes at the most.

The ‘Hiking Trail’ (健行步道)

Starting from the main entrance and following the river all the way past the Visitor Center and the Refreshment Station, the so-called ‘Hiking Trail’ is a (mostly) flat trail that connects to the other trails within the park. From the ticketing booth, the trail does have a gradual incline, but it is quite accessible for anyone who would like to enjoy a leisurely walk through the park. Similar to the Ruizai Creek Trail mentioned above, it’s part of the walking section of the park that most visitors have to pass by, but although it is forested in sections, it is just a leisurely walking trail that runs parallel to the river and offers views of the stream with plenty of places to stop and rest. That being said, this is essentially one of the most important trails within the park as it connects to all of the others, allowing visitors to head off in different directions.

While on the trail, you’ll find a number of informative displays that the have been set up to help inform visitors of the various species of wildlife and vegetation within the park.

Total Length: Between 1250 meters - 2km (the trail splits off at one section)

Time Required: 25-30 minutes.

Virgin Waterfall Trail (處女瀑布步道)

As an offshoot of the ‘Hiking Trail’ you’ll eventually come across a fork in the road where you’ll see signage that points in the direction of continuing along the path toward the Manyueyuan Waterfall, or cross the river on your way toward the Virgin Waterfall. Both waterfalls are worth the time and the effort, but if you only have enough time to check out one of them, this should be the one you choose.

The trail to the Virgin Waterfall isn’t a long one, but it is considered to be more difficult than the others due to the incline of the trail, which includes a number of stairs that takes you up along another section of the Ruizai Creek. From the start of the trail, you’ll cross the Manzu Bridge (滿足小僑) and then start your climb to the waterfall. Even though the hike is a little less than a kilometer long, it’ll feel like the most strenuous exercise that you’ll have had on your journey through the park thanks to all the stairs.

The trail ultimately comes to an end when you reach the Virgin Waterfall, which has a nice three-storey covered pavilion for you to view the waterfall and rest.

If you’re lucky, you may also be able to make use of the ‘Connecting Trail’ (連接步道) to take an easier and direct route back and forth from the Manyueyuan Waterfall Trail. I’ll introduce that trail in more detail below.

Total Length: 930 meters (+300 meters with connecting trail)

Time Required: 45 minutes (+10 minutes with connecting trail)

Manyueyuan Waterfall Trail (滿月圓瀑布步道)

As another offshoot of the main ‘Hiking Trail’ you’ll reach a fork in the road where you can turn right and continue along the path toward the Manyueyuan Waterfall. This trail is considerably easier than the Virgin Waterfall mentioned above in terms of the incline of the path, but it does feature a number of stairs that hikers will have to climb on either side of the waterfall to reach the end of the trail.

Much of this trail is covered covered by the forest, and is noticeably a lot more damp than the rest of the park as it is the area where you’ll find the Ruizai Creek at its strongest.

As mentioned earlier, the trail splits off into two sections, one where you’ll cross the beautiful ‘Full Moon Bridge’ (滿月小橋) and make your wall up to the top of the waterfall to an area where you can also enjoy the Silver Curtain Waterfall.

The other part of the trail is a section where you’ll climb a steep set of stairs prior to crossing the bridge. It will bring you to a platform high above the waterfall where you can enjoy panoramic views while sitting in a roof-covered pavilion.

Similar to the Virgin Waterfall trail mentioned above, hikers can make use of the ‘Connecting Trail’ (連接步道) to take an easier and more direct route to the other waterfall, rather than climbing all the way back down and starting all over again.

Total Length: 930 meters (+300 meters with connecting trail)

Time Required: 45 minutes (+10 minutes with connecting trail)

Connecting Trail (連接步道)

Making things convenient for hikers, there is a ‘Connecting Trail’ between the Virgin Waterfall Trail and the Manyueyuan Waterfall Trail that allows visitors to save quite a bit of time biking between the two waterfalls. That being said, it’s important to note that the ‘Connecting Trail’ has experienced long periods of closures in recent years due to the instability of the trail as it passes from one waterfall trail to the other. Unfortunately, it’s possible that the trail might be closed at any given time, so although it is an extremely convenient way to pass between the two waterfalls, you may end up discovering that it is blocked off with notices warning hikers not to enter.

You’ll want to keep this in mind as you hike through the park and ultimately be prepared to hike back to the start of the other trail.

Total Length: 300 meters

Time Required: 10 minutes

Self-Guided Trail (自導式步道)

What is it they say about taking the road less travelled?

Starting as an off-shoot from the ‘Hiking Trail’ that follows the river through the park, the ‘Self-Guided Trail’ follows a completely different route through the forest, ultimately connecting to the Manyueyuan Waterfall trail at the end. This trail tends to be the most secluded of all the trails in the park as well as being considered the most ‘difficult’, but it does offer those who take it a much different view of the lush untouched forest, where you’re also much more likely to encounter some of the local wildlife.

Taking a stroll through this section of forest tends to be pretty quiet, with far fewer hikers than the other trails, and it’s also a pretty good section for checking out the butterflies in spring and summer. This is also the area where you’ll find the trailhead for the Dongman Hiking trail, which will take you from Manyueyuan Forest Park to the Dongyanshan Forest Park.

If it’s your first visit to the park and you’d like to enjoy a bit of a hike, I recommend starting with this trail and taking it all the way to the Manyueyuan Waterfall before making your way back to the entrance along the much easier and more leisurely ‘Hiking Trail’.

Total Length: 1100 meters

Time Required: 40 minutes

Dongman Hiking Trail (東滿步道)

The longest trail in the park is an interesting one because it is essentially a one-way hike that’ll take the entire day and connects you from one Forest Recreation Park to another. The name “Dongman” (東滿) is a combination of the first characters in “Dongyanshan” (東眼山) another Forest Recreation Park located in the mountains of Taoyuan and “Manyueyuan” (滿月圓).

Hikers are free to choose to start the roughly eight kilometer hike in the Forest Park of their choice with one starting at a lower elevation and the other starting at a higher elevation. The trail is known for its panoramic views of the northern mountain range, but is considered an advanced hike, and should always be done in a group for safety.

The other thing that has to be reiterated is that since the hike starts in one park and ends in another, your method of getting there and getting home will be different, so it doesn’t make much sense to drive your car to one, do the hike, and end up stranded in the other. Fortunately, there are hiking groups like Parkbus that coordinate hikes to the trail and conveniently provides drop off at one park and pick up at the other, solving those logistical problems.

Trail length: 8km (4-5 hours one way)

Time Required: 4-5 hours (one way)

Getting There

 

Address: (新北市三峽區有木里174-1號)

GPS: 121.44470, 24.830391

Car / Scooter

If you have access to your own means of transportation, getting to the park is quite easy thanks to quick access to the expressway that runs between Sanxia (三峽) and Yingge (鶯歌). Simply get off of National Highway #3 at the Sanying Interchange (三鶯交流道) and make your way to Rural Highway North North 115. The best way to achieve this is to copy the address or the GPS coordinates provided above into your vehicle’s GPS or your phone’s Google Maps.

If you’re riding a scooter however, you obviously don’t have the option of taking the expressway, so you’ll have to find your way to Sanxia and then to the Rural Highway #115, where you’re able to drive.

In both cases you’ll ultimately follow the rural highway to the very end where you’ll find the park. Driving a car might seem like your best option, but it’s important to keep in mind that on weekends and during national holidays, the narrow mountainous road can get quite busy and you may find yourself stuck in a traffic jam on the way up the mountain.

If you’re on a scooter on the otherhand, you can simply zip past all the people sitting in traffic and enjoy the park at your leisure.

Public Transport

Unfortunately, the only way to get to Manyueyuan via public transportation is by bus, and that tends to be a bit of a pain in the ass.

First you’ll have to get yourself to Sanxia (三峽), and the best way to do that is to take Taipei Bus (臺北客運) #702 from Banqiao Station (板橋車站) or Taipei Bus (臺北客運) #812 from either Dingpu MRT Station (頂埔捷運站) or Yongning MRT Station (永寧捷運站) on the Blue Line (板南線) all the way to Sanxia Stop 1 (三峽一站). From there, you’ll need to hop on Taipei Bus #807, which will take you to the Manyueyuan Parking Lot.

While that sounds simple, it’s important to note that there are only a handful of buses that depart from Sanxia each day, so you’ll have to keep a tight schedule in order to ensure that you catch the bus there, and more importantly, your bus home.

Link: Taipei Bus #807 Real Time Location (Taipei eBus 大台北公車)

From Sanxia 1 Bus Terminal to Manyueyuan (三峽一站 - 滿月圓)

Weekday Departures: 05:20, 07:00, 09:30, 12:00, 15:00, 17:30

Weekend Departures: 06:00, 08:30, 11:00, 14:30, 17:30

From Manyueyuan Parking Lot to Sanxia (滿月圓 - 三峽一站)

Weekday Departures: 06:05, 07:45, 10:15, 12:45, 15:45, 18:10

Weekend Departures: 06:45, 09:10, 11:45, 15:15, 18:10

Once again, you’re going to have to be very careful about the amount of time you spend in the park if you are taking the bus home - If you miss the last bus out of the park, you’re going to find yourself stranded, and your only option might be to hitch a ride with another hiker who would be willing to drive you into town.

Park Admission Fees

It is somewhat uncommon for popular tourist destinations to charge an admission fee in Taiwan, but in this case, for the purpose of maintaining the quality of the trails, the administration of the park, and more importantly the wildlife conservation effort, a modest admission fee is collected at the entrance.

The current admission fee scheme is as follows:

Weekdays: Adults NT$80

Weekends & National Holidays: Adults NT$100

Group Rate (20 or more people): NT$80

Children: NT$50

Seniors (65+): NT$10

Hours

Weekdays: 08:00 - 17:00

Weekends: 07:00 - 17:00

The park is open year-round, but is closed for Lunar New Year’s Eve (除夕). The Visitor Center on the other hand doesn’t open on Tuesdays.

If you are looking for something to do on the weekend or during a holiday, a quick trip to Manyueyuan for a bit of nature is definitely worth a visit. Not only are the trails within the park beautiful, but you also get to see a couple of beautiful waterfalls and possibly even some wild monkeys.

And hey, if you arrive early enough and still have time and energy for another short hike, you can make your day complete and visit the nearby Cloud Forest waterfall (雲森瀑布), or just take a dip in one of the pool areas of the Dabao River on the way out of the mountain. Finally, why not end your day checking out Sanxia Old Street (三峽老街), where you can fill your belly with some pretty good food!

References

  1. 滿月圓國家森林遊樂區 (台灣山林悠遊網)

  2. 滿月圓國家森林遊樂區 (新北市觀光旅遊網)

  3. 滿月圓國家森林遊樂區 (Wiki)

  4. 三峽.滿月圓 (Tony的自然人文旅記)

  5. 滿月圓人團圓,隱身於中海拔森林裡,在大台北地區就能四季森林體驗!(微笑台灣)

  6. 國家森林遊樂區 (Wiki)

  7. Manyueyuan National Forest Recreation Area (Wiki)

  8. Manyueyuan Forest Recreation Area (Taiwan Forest Recreation)

  9. Manyueyuan National Forest Recreation Area (Parkbus)

  10. Sightings of elusive wildlife on the rise in Manyueyuan (Taipei Times)