Kishu An (紀州庵文學森林)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Link List of Michelin starred restaurants in Taipei (Wiki)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kishu-an Ryotei (紀州庵料亭 / きしゅうあんりょうてい)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Link: Ryotei (Japanese style restaurant)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Link: Nanjichang Community (南機場社區)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kishu-an Timeline

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Architectural Design

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

Never fear, I’ve got you covered. 

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

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

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

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

But what does any of that actually mean?  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Link: Shoin-zukuri (Wiki) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Link: Bamboo Mud Wall (Wiki)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Link: 紀州庵文學森林風格茶館 (Kishu-An Teahouse)

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

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

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

Link: 攝影申請 (Online Photography Permit Application)

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

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

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

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

(Closed on Mondays and National Holidays)

Official Website: 紀州庵文學森林 | Facebook 

Getting There

 

Address: (台北市中正區同安街115號及109巷4弄6號)

GPS: 25.024340, 121.522440

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

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

Car / Scooter 

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

Taipei MRT

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

Bus

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

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

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

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

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

Youbike 

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

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

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

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

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

References

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

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

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

  4. 紀州庵 (Wiki)

  5. 臺北市直轄市定古蹟列表 (Wiki)

  6. 紀州庵文學森林 (台北文化局)

  7. 紀州庵 (國家文化資產處)

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

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

  10. 和風水岸的悠閒—紀州庵料亭 (晰誌 | See Zine)

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