Taiwan Travel

Abandoned Tea Factory

When foreign streaming services started arriving in Taiwan, a battle started over access to local content, which could be added to their extensive libraries of movies and television shows. With Netflix and Disney+ being the most popular choices for most consumers in Taiwan, both companies sought to add as much Taiwan-made content as they could, while also investing in producing new content as well.

Suffice to say, this resulted in a considerable amount of freshly-made content, which was afforded the financial backing and support of these massive media companies, and more importantly, higher quality production values, which has been a recipe for success. Television shows like Light the Night (華燈初上), Seqalu (斯卡羅) and Detention (返校) are just a few examples of the recent success that the addition of streaming services have helped bring to Taiwan, allowing the country to tell its own stories on an international level.

Link: 別再說韓劇比較好看!10大必看神作開啟台劇新高度,道盡職場辛酸血淚 (風博媒)

One of the other recent additions was the series Gold Leaf (茶金), lauded as the first-ever television show that was filmed entirely in Hoiluk (海陸腔), the most commonly spoken dialect of the Hakka language spoken in Taiwan. A co-production from the Taiwanese government’s Hakka Affairs Council (客家委員會) and the Public Television Service Foundation (公共電視), the twelve-part series focused on the family of entrepreneur Chiang A-hsin (姜阿新), who hailed from the predominately Hakka village of Beipu (北浦鎮) in Hsinchu.

Link: Hakka period drama ‘Gold Leaf’ to air in November (Hakka Affairs Council)

Telling the story of the family’s struggle to stay in business as the Japanese left Taiwan and the Chinese Nationalists took over, the series (is said to have) done an excellent job helping people learn about the booming tea trade during the 1950s, and it’s popularity got domestic tourists to visit places like Beipu Old Street (北浦老街) and the Daxi Tea Factory (大溪老茶產) to experience that history firsthand.

I have to admit though, I haven’t actually watched it..

The family of tea tycoons depicted in the television show, however, is very closely connected to the subject of today’s article, which will tell the story of an abandoned tea factory in the hills of Hsinchu. Having visited the abandoned factory on a few occasions prior to the television show coming out, I had never really made the connection between the two until I started doing a bit of research into the old building.

My personal interest in the tea factory came after my first of many visits to the recently restored Daxi Tea Factory. As I was looking for information about other Japanese-era tea factories around the country, once I found it, I visited a couple of times to get photos.

This however is where I have to add my usual disclaimer regarding my articles on Urban Exploration - In this article, I’ll provide historic information about the tea factory - I’ll even provide it’s name - What I won’t do though is provide readers with any of the other particulars, so if you find yourself so interested that you’d like to check it out on your for yourself, it shouldn’t take very long to figure out where it is.

Before I get into any details about the abandoned tea factory, it’s probably a good idea to start out by introducing talk about the man (and the family), of tea tycoons who owned it - and several others throughout the mountains of Hsinchu - and for whom the television show mentioned above is dedicated.

Chiang A-hsin (姜阿新)

The life of Chiang A-hsin was a long and eventful one, and given that there has been quite a bit recorded about the rise and fall of his family’s tea empire over the years, I’ll try to keep this a brief introduction.

Born in 1901 (明治34年), in what is now Baoshan Village (寶山鄉) in Hsinchu, Chiang A-hsin was adopted as a child by Chiang Qing-han (姜清漢), who was heir to the Beipu Chiang family, and who was described as ‘barren’ or unable to have children of his own.

Little seems to be written on the subject in English, but in Taiwan, it was common (for a variety of reasons) for well-off families to adopt children from families who would otherwise have trouble raising the child on their own. In this case, it was because the Chiang family required a male heir to carry on the family name, but in other cases it could be that the family required a daughter to marry to one of their sons, or for purposes of indentured servitude, etc.

Nevertheless, Chiang A-hsin was adopted and groomed to become the heir of the wealthy Beipu family, who struck it rich during the Qing Dynasty with their Jinguangfu Land Reclamation Company (金廣福墾號). Starting his education at the Beipu Public School (北浦公校), he then moved on to the prestigious Taihoku Kokugo Gakko (臺灣總督府國語學校 / たいわんそうとくふこくごがっこう) at the age of fourteen.

Shortly after his graduation from the college, he traveled to the Japanese mainland, and spent a year reading law at Meiji University (京明治大學) in Tokyo. However, do to pressing family matters back at home, he didn’t end up finishing his degree and instead returned to Taiwan to help out.

Over the next several years, Chiang attempted to invest in or start his own business on several occasions, but each attempt was met with opposition from his father. Chiang then took a job as the assistant to Tanaka Tori (田中利), the head of Hopposhō Village (北埔庄 / ほっぽしょう), known today as Beipu Village. He’d only end up spending two years in the position however as the opposition of his father turned into approval when A-hsin became the head of the family, and proved to his father that he was capable of investing the families wealth responsibly.

Even though his position as assistant to the head of the village might have been short-lived, Chiang used his time in office to familiarize himself with the growing tea manufacturing industry in the village, which was praised for the high-end product that it was producing. Using what he learned and the important networking opportunities that he had, Chiang threw his own hand into the industry by organizing the Beipu Tea Collective (北埔茶葉組合), which grew exponentially over the next few years - starting with the Beipu Tea Farm (北埔茶場) in 1934 (昭和9年), Emei Tea Factory (峨眉茶廠) in 1935 (昭和10年) and then the Hengshan Tea Factory (橫山茶廠), Wufeng Tea Factory (五峰茶廠), and finally the Daping Tea Factory in 1936 (昭和11年).

To give you of an idea of the high-quality nature of the tea that was being produced by Chaing’s Beipu Tea Collective, the tea being produced in the mountains of Hsinchu at the time was sold at a price ten times to typical market price for Oolong Tea at the time. Given the high quality of the tea and the reputation that came with it, Chiang formed partnerships with the Mitsui Agriculture and Forestry Association (三井農林會社), which brought the benefit of having the most modern tea-producing technology available at the time.

However, during the Second World War, the Governor General’s Office in Taipei moved quickly to control certain areas of the economy, especially those with regard to the supply of commodities. The production of tea was an important one for both domestic and international consumption, so the government took control in order to better siphon off the profits, which could be distributed for the war effort.

By 1941 (昭和16年), the “Beipu Tea Collective” was restructured into the Chikuto Tea Company (竹東製茶株式會社). Yet, thanks to his experience in the industry, and his notoriety, Chiang was able to continue as president, maintaining his position and influence within the industry.

After the war, the Chikuto tea Company was dissolved and the ownership of the tea factories was returned to their original owners. By that time, the reputation of Beipu’s tea was pretty solid, specializing in what is known in Hakka as “phong-fûng chhà” (椪風茶) or Oriental Beauty Tea (東方美人茶). In the Hakka language, the name of the tea was essentially “Braggers Tea”, which was used because the producers were ‘so proud of their product that they bragged to everyone’ about how much money they were making from selling it.

Link: Dongfang meiren 東方美人茶 (Wiki)

Shortly after the Chinese Nationalists took control of Taiwan, Chiang renamed the company Yung Kuang Tea Company (永光股份有限公司) and started exporting tea under the Three Star (三星) and Ho-ppo Tea (北埔茶) brands. The success of the global export industry apparently surpassed even that of India’s Darjeeling Tea for a short time, putting Taiwanese tea on the world stage and attracting guests from all over the world to visit Taiwan. With all the foreign tea trading companies visiting Beipu, Chiang decided to build his famous mansion in Beipu where his family lived and received guests.

However, things changed in the 1950s when other tea producing areas around the world, affected by the war resumed production. With its competitive advantage lost, Taiwan’s tea production started to suffer and the relationship between Chiang and his foreign partners suffered.

At wits end, Chiang eventually retired and the company was taken over by his daughter, who attempted to make changes to save the business. Ultimately, the international market, Taiwan’s political situation and the amount of loans proved too difficult to overcome and they were forced to file for bankruptcy in 1965 (民國54年). I don’t want to give you too many spoilers, so if you have the time to watch ‘Gold Leaf’ on Netflix, you’ll be able to see the struggles the family had to go through.

Chiang later moved to Taipei with his family and lived there until his death in 1982. Today, his historic mansion has been restored, and is open in Beipu for tours.

Daping Tea Factory (大平製茶厰)

The Daping Tea Factory (大平製茶厰) opened in June of 1934 (昭和9年) under the official name “Dapingwo Tea Cooperative Factory” (太平窩茶葉組合製茶工場), and was one of the first tea factories in the area that was able to make use of modern technology in the production process.

While the tea factory was officially part of Chiang A-hsin’s ‘Beipu Tea Collective’ mentioned above, throughout its history, it has been managed by a number of different groups of local tea farmers, more specifically after the war, the Hsinpu Liu family (劉氏), one the prominent clans of Hakka residents of the area.

Link: Hsinpu Ancestral Shrines (新埔宗祠)

The history of the factory is one that is reminiscent of many of Taiwan’s agricultural industries in that they had to find a way to deal with the transition of political control from the Japanese to the Chinese Nationalists. For the locals, the ability to successfully stay afloat in business during either era was a delicate (and dangerous) balancing act that required a considerable amount of political knowhow. The Beipu Tea Collective under the leadership of Chiang A-hsin, though, was one of the fortunate pieces of Taiwan’s agricultural industry that was able to successfully navigate the transition.

However, as I’ve already pointed out, Taiwan experienced somewhat of a ‘golden era’ of tea production after the war with the support of the Chinese Nationalist regime. When that golden era came to an end, not even endless government subsidies were even able to keep successful businessmen like Chiang A-hsin afloat, and many of the tea factories across the island started to shut down.

Tea baskets that have seen better days.

Despite the decline in the fortune of the Chiang family, the Daping Tea Factory was able to outlive many of the other tea plantations across the country, and with the cooperation of the government, the owners cultivated several varieties of tea. Transitioning away from Oriental Beauty (東方美人 / 青心大冇) to other types of of tea leaves, they produced popular varieties such as Black Tea (紅茶), Baozhong (包種茶) and Dong-ding (凍頂茶), which continue to be the most common varieties of tea that are cultivated in Taiwan today.

Interestingly, in the post-war period, the cultivation of tea in Taiwan expanded upon some of the experimentation that took place during the Japanese-era, and the result was a number of hybrid species that combined indigenous teas with those more common in India, and other major tea producing countries around the world. The cultivation of these new ‘Taiwan teas’ was streamlined throughout the 1950s and 1960s, and the teas being produced received official classifications based on the experimental process that was used to create them.

Instead of having a bunch of confusing names, the government promoted teas with a number - for example “Taiwan #1” (台茶1號) through “Taiwan #13” (台茶13號), a classification system that remains in place today - and was a beneficial exercise in marketing Taiwanese produced teas to the international market.

In the 1950s, there were over three-hundred tea factories spread throughout Taiwan, a third of them located in Hsinchu. Working together with the other fifteen factories in Hsinpu Village (新埔鎮), the tea produced in the area maintained a high reputation for quite some time, and the success of the export market helped to stabilize a tea industry that was showing signs of decline.

Nevertheless, the decline, which was brought on by international market trends dealt a decisive blow to Taiwan’s tea industry, and even though earnest attempts were made to revive the struggling industry, by 1988 (民國77年), only nine of the original fifteen factories in Hsinpu remained in operation. Less than a decade later, only two of them remained.

By 2013 (民國102年), almost all of the tea factories in the area had been abandoned, with the few remaining converted into tea wholesale businesses.

Unfortunately, information regarding the closure of Daping Tea Factory’s business operations is difficult to find, so I can’t give you an actual date as to when it went out of business, but it’s safe to say that it fell victim to the number of closures that took place between the late 1980s and 1990s.

It’s also difficult to say when the place was abandoned, but given that there was a residence and/or a dormitory within the building, it might have been occupied for a period of time after going out of business.

Recently, the arched wooden roof of one of the buildings collapsed, and out of concern for the local community, the owners of the properly planned to have the building torn down, but the Hsinchu County Bureau of Cultural Affairs (新竹縣政府文化局) stepped in and sought to have the building ‘protected’ for future use, although it is currently unclear as to what that will entail.

One would hope, given the popularity of the television series, as well as the Daxi Tea Factory as a tourist destination, that it’s likely that it might receive some attention sooner rather than later. But that’s up in the air at this point.

Link: 百年大平製茶廠 竹縣爭納古蹟 (自由時報)

Now, let me take a few minutes to detail the architectural design of the building, which even though is in pretty rough shape at the moment, remains quite interesting.

Visiting the factory today, its rather obvious that the original tea factory, constructed during the Japanese-era, was expanded upon several times over the post-war era to meet the needs of a modernizing industry. When we view the factory today, it is essentially split into three different sections - each of which varies with regard to its architectural design and construction methods.

It probably goes without saying that, as far as I’m concerned, the section that remains from the Japanese-era is the most interesting - but taking into consideration that it was constructed primarily constructed of wood in the 1930s, it’s also the part of the factory that is currently in the worst condition.

The original section of the tea factory was actually quite similar to what you can still see at the Daxi Tea Factory in Taoyuan in that it was a two-story brick building, which featured load-bearing walls. In both cases, the top floor was used as a drying area, while the first floor was where the tea was processed.

The roof that covered the drying area was a typical hip-and-gable roof (歇山頂) which was covered with red roof tiles (閩式紅瓦), a type of clay tile which are ubiquitous with traditional Hokkien (閩南) and Hakka (客家) buildings in Taiwan. While the decorative elements of the roof are subdued compared to most other historic buildings in Taiwan, the roof’s fusion of Japanese-style architectural design with that of Hakka elements is an interesting one, but not entirely unique, as you’ll see in the link below.

Link: Zhongli Elementary Teachers Dorms (壢小故事森林)

Starting with the shape of the roof, ‘hip-and-gable’ in this case is better referred to as irimoya-zukuri (入母屋造 / いりもやづくり) as it is one of the most common forms of traditional Japanese architectural design, and is used on anything from Buddhist temples and Shinto Shrines to buildings like this one. Roofs in this style tend to vary in the level of decorative elements added, and in this case the decorations are quite subdued.

Nevertheless, this style of architectural design tends to be quite practical given that the ‘hipped’ section provided excellent stability to the base of the building, while the ‘gable’ section ensures the stability of the roof. All of this was accomplished through a genius network of trusses (屋架) located within the ceiling that assists in distributing the weight and support the four-sided sloped hip roof (四坡頂).

If you explore the tea factory today, you can see the original wood used to help stabilize the roof in the section left standing and contrast it with the section that has already caved-in. In the latter, the trusses remain in pretty good shape despite having caved in and being open to the elements for a number of years, which likely points to the fact that they weren’t the cause of the cave in.

As mentioned above, the roof tiles feature as part of the roof’s decorative design, but the fusion of Japanese-style architecture with Taiwanese red roof tiles here tends to play a more functional role than a decorative one. Along the arched section of the roof, you’ll find what appear to be lines of cylindrical roof tiles separated by flat sections of tile that make it seem like ocean waves. The functional nature of the roof tiles placed in this way assist in controlling the flow of rain water.

With the building constructed during the Showa-era, construction techniques in Taiwan had become considerably more refined, so even though the weight of the roof was stabilized by the trusses within the building, the load-bearing brick walls allowed for a number of windows to be placed on all sides of the building to assist in the process of drying the tea leaves. Surrounding the remaining second-floor section of the second floor on three sides, the windows allow for a considerable amount of natural light and in the summer sun, the room tends to shine, making it the most interesting section of the building, photographically.

Diagram of the three sections of the tea factory based on when they were constructed.

Located to the rear of the original section of the building you’ll find a post-war addition to the original tea factory. This section, similar to the building in front is a two-story structure, but it also includes a basement where you can still find a considerable amount of the original machinery that was used in the process of tea production. Having all of this historic machinery just sitting there open to the elements is actually quite sad as it is just wasting away in its current condition. The basement of the building tends to be quite damp and muddy, so it’s hard to say that much of anything inside would be of any use other than for display purposes.

Finally, the most recent addition to the tea factory is simply a three-story reinforced concrete building that is typical of post-war design. The building features very little in terms of decorative elements and was never painted.

Essentially it looks like almost every Taiwanese house that was constructed over the past forty or fifty years. Within the interior of the building however you’ll find what was probably the factory’s administrative section as well as an area reserved as the dormitory for the factory’s employees, who were likely migrant laborers.

What is probably the best part of this section of the factory is that you can easily access the roof to get a better view of the caved-in section of the original tea factory, but if you do explore the building, you’ll want to be careful walking around as it could be somewhat dangerous as well.   

As mentioned earlier, this article is currently classified as one of my ‘urban exploration’ articles, which means that I won’t be sharing much about the location of the building, or how to gain entry to the building.

I do hope that at some point that I’ll be able to offer readers an update if and when the building is restored and re-opened to the public as a tourist attraction - So here’s to hoping that the popularity of “Gold Leaf” will rub off on local officials in Hsinchu looking to cash in on the renewed interest in Taiwan’s golden age of tea, something which this (and many other) tea factories played a role in.


The Fairy Cave Temple (仙洞巖 + 佛手洞)

Taiwan’s northern port city of Keelung has always been one of the nation’s most international cities. Having experienced periods of Dutch, Spanish, Chinese and Japanese rule, control of the northern port has always been the gateway to Taipei and the rest of Taiwan.

The Keelung of the modern era is a vibrant international port city with cruise ships from around the world docking in the harbor as well as a large number of cargo container ships coming and going.

With a history dating back several hundred years, the city has a number of historic destinations for tourists to visit and to learn about the special city, and its development over the centuries.

Unfortunately, something I’ve come to realize over the years is that Keelung rarely ever receives a fraction of the attention in the English-language as other areas of the country. I’ve always wondered if this was because some of the history in the area isn’t as well-documented or well-preserved, of its simply because it rains so much that most tourists prefer to just check out the night market whenever they’re in town.

Suffice to say, as a history buff, I’m a big fan of Keelung and over the next few months I’ll be introducing a number of the city’s tourist destinations. In this one I’m going to introduce a pretty cool, yet somewhat obscure Keelung tourist destination that (like so many other of the city’s attractions) has received little-to-no attention, or promotion in English-language tourism spheres. Obviously not every foreign tourist is as interested in Taiwan’s places of worship as I am, but when it comes to this one, I’m surprised that the tourist bureau hasn’t put in a little more effort given that it is located within a large cave next to the ocean.

If advertised properly, it could be one of those ‘mystical places of worship’ that foreign tourists are attracted to, especially since it is reminiscent to the beautiful Tham Khao Luang Cave (ถ้ำเขาหลวง) just outside of Bangkok in Thailand.

The so-called ‘Fairy Cave temple’ and the ‘Buddha’s Hand Cave,’ are both part of the same network of mountainous sea caverns located next to the port of Keelung and just like the rest of the city, this place of worship has a history that both spans the several eras of Taiwan’s colonial history, and even though it has evolved throughout the years, you’ll find that history written all over its walls.

No matter how much has changed at the cave throughout the years, it has always remained a place of worship steeped in local legend, and with the calming sound of the waves crashing against the shoreline, it can be a quiet place of refuge for anyone seeking a bit of solitude in the busy international port city.

Fairy Cave Temple (仙洞巖最勝寺)

With thousands of places of worship throughout Taiwan, tourists and locals alike are afforded a wide variety of religious destinations to visit. It’s safe to say however that only a handful of them have been constructed within a natural sea cave, allowing them to stand out from the rest.

The so-called ‘Fairy Cave’ (仙洞巖) as it is currently known has gone by a few different names over the past few centuries, but it has been a place of worship for much of Keelung’s recorded history.

Prior to becoming a place of worship, the cave was regarded as a natural refuge for local fishers when the weather turned foul, as it so often does along Taiwan’s north coast. Eventually setting up a shrine within the cave, the fishers made use of the space to pray for safety while out on the water.

It’s unclear as to when organized worship at the cave officially started, but in renowned poet Lee Feng-Shih’s (李逢時) poem titled “The Eight Scenic Wonders of Keelung” (雞籠八景詩), he references the cave by saying “You don’t have to have the ability to fly to become a fairy” (不必飛昇人亦仙), with references to the cave from other scholars to around sometime in the mid-nineteenth century.

View from the main entrance.

Note: The Chinese characters used for “Keelung” in the poem mentioned above is pronounced “jī lóng” (雞籠) in Mandarin or “Ke-lâng” in Taiwanese. While the Mandarin pronunciation remains the same today, the original characters are loosely translated as “Chicken Cage” (雞籠), and was the original name used for the area prior to 1876, when it was officially changed to the name we use today.

To answer an age-old question that many foreigners have - the reason why we refer to the city today as “Keelung” in English instead of “Jilong” is because that is the Taiwanese-Hokkien pronunciation (Ki-liông / Ke-lâng) of the city rather than the Mandarin one.

Link: 【臺灣地名真相】基隆叫基隆,是因為長得像雞籠嗎?

Without a clear recorded history prior to the Japanese-era, it is understood that the place of worship within the cave has gone by several names over the years being referred to as “Zuisheng Temple” (最勝寺), Rinzai Myōshin-ji Zuisheng Zen Temple (臨濟宗妙心寺派最勝寺), Dai-Ming Temple (代明宮) and Benten Shrine (辨天宮), among others.

These days it is referred to simply as the “Fairy Cave Temple” (仙洞巖), but formally retains its full name “Zuisheng Fairy Cave Temple” (仙洞巖最勝寺).

In 1872 (清同治11年), during the latter stages of the Qing Dynasty, a formal place of worship was constructed within the cave known as Dai-Ming Temple (代明宮), dedicated to Buddhist practice.

A few decades later when the Japanese took control of Taiwan in 1895, Keelung, or “Kiirun” (きーるん) as it became known, was one of the first areas where the Japanese were able to set up official administrative agencies. This was in part due to the port, Taiwan’s northern-most, becoming instrumental in transporting people and supplies to the island, in addition to already having an established, yet rudimentary railway link between the port and the capital.

Praying to one of the carved images on the cave walls.

The early years of the colonial era saw a considerable amount of Japanese nationals coming to the island for work (on a temporary or long-term basis), bringing with them knowledge and expertise as well as their cultural and religious practices. So, in addition to several Shinto Shrines constructed in the port area, a number of Japanese Buddhist groups started setting up roots in the city, most notably the Jodo (淨土宗), Soto (曹洞宗), Shingon (真言宗) and Rinzai (臨濟宗) sects.

Most notably for the Fairy Cave, the Myōshin-ji (妙心寺 / みょうしんじ), headquartered in Kyoto and the largest group within the Rinzai sect, initially seized upon the opportunity to set up shop in the ‘Fairy Cave’ but there are conflicting reports as to how long that shrine within the cave lasted.

Links: Huguo Rinzai Temple (臨濟護國禪寺) | Puji Temple (普濟寺)

There are differing accounts on what happened in the early 1900s, as there are claims that the shrine within the cave has always remained a Buddhist place of worship while others argue that the Buddha’s were re-located elsewhere in 1906 (明治39年), and a Shinto Shrine constructed on the site shortly after. The surprising thing is that the official records on the subject aren’t actually as clear, leading to debate within academic circles. Photographic evidence of the site makes it ‘somewhat’ clear that the Fairy Cave was converted into a Shinto Shrine in the late Meiji era.

With the consecration of a Shinto Shrine on the site taking place in 1911 (明治44年), it’s highly unlikely that any of the Buddhist-related materials remained within the cave as there are accounts that the statues of Shakyamuni (釋迦佛) were removed and sent elsewhere.

As a Shinto Shrine, Benten Shrine (仙洞弁天宮 / べんてんみや), predated the Keelung Shinto Shrine (基隆神社 / きーるんじんじゃ), and was one of a dozen shrines constructed in the Keelung area during the Japanese era.

Similar to the Keelung Shrine, the shrine was dedicated to Amaterasu (天照皇大神), the Three Deities Of Cultivation (開拓三神), Ōmononushi (大物主命), Emperor Sutoku (崇德天皇), and Prince Kitashirakawa Yoshihisa (北白川宮能久親王) in addition to Benzaitian (弁才天 / べんざいてん), or ‘Ichikishima-hime-no-mikoto’ (市杵島姫命 / “Heavenly Princess Ichikishima”), the goddess of water, music, arts, wisdom, wealth and fortune, whom the shrine was named after.

Link: Keelung Martyrs Shrine (基隆忠烈祠)

With a several decade history as a Shinto Shrine from 1911, until the colonial era ended in 1945, I’d venture to guess that some of the confusion with regard to the Fairy Cave is due to the fact that some of the Buddha statues enshrined there today originated in Japan and date back to the colonial era. What gives people the biggest headache trying to figure all of this out however was that the Goddess Benzaiten is a figure that was introduced to Taiwan with the arrival of the Japanese, and is worshipped interchangeably as both a Buddhist figure and a Shinto kami (deity).

Location of the cave marked on a Japanese-era map of the port of Keelung

Note: Belonging to a group known as the “Seven Lucky Gods” (七福神 / しちふくじん), Benzaiten is one of the most prominent deities within Japanese religious traditions that is worshipped in both Buddhism and Shintoism. Representing the syncretistic mixture of influences that have defined Japanese religion over the last thousand or more years. Originating as the Hindu Goddess Saraswati, and then incorporated within Buddhism and China and moving onto Japan, she has been a popular figure within Japanese religious traditions since the 6th Century. Given her prominent role within both religious traditions, worship of Benzaiten was one of the few ‘foreign’ influenced religious practices that was able to escape the separation of Buddhism and State Shinto during the Meiji Restoration (明治維新 / めいじいしん).

Academics point to historic photos of the exterior of the Fairy Cave taken during the Japanese-era with a torii gate (鳥居), and a traditional ‘walking path’ (參道) leading toward the cave as evidence that the place of worship was converted into a Shinto Shrine, given that these types of gates are almost always an indication of a Shinto Shrine. With regard to this specific goddess, that actually isn’t the best indicator as her worship is often the exception to the rule when it comes to these gates. As a syncretic goddess, both Shinto Shrines and Buddhist temples dedicated to her worship feature a torii gate. Fortunately, there’s a photo of the interior of the shrine (below) which clearly indicates that it was a Shinto Shrine as there is a ‘shintai’ (神体), known as a sacred mirror and is the repository of a Shinto deity.

Shrine located within the cave during the Japanese-era featuring a ‘sacred mirror.’

Interestingly, when the the colonial era came to an end and the Fairy Cave was converted back into a Buddhist temple, nothing changed with regard to the worship of Benzaiten, which continues to this day.

In the post-war era, the place of worship within the Fairy Cave was restored to its original name ‘Zuisheng Temple’ (最勝寺), and over the years it has been restored on a few occasions becoming a Keelung City Protected Heritage Site (基隆市古蹟) in 2006.

Now, let’s get into some specifics about the Fairy Cave in its current form.

As mentioned above, the cave was once a safe haven for fishers in the Keelung area, and as it predates the port, its formation took place over many thousands of years with erosion caused by seawater. As we know it today, it has a depth of about 80 meters and varies in width in the various sections of the cavern, but has a total space of about 1650㎡ (500坪).

Having recently gone under a period of restoration, the path to the Fairy Cave features a newly constructed ‘paifang’ gate (牌坊), a Chinese-style gate that demarcates the name of the cave and the temple within. Amazingly, the path that leads to the main entrance remains the same as the original ‘visiting path’ from its days as a Shinto Shrine, although the walkway was recently restored as well.

At the entrance to the cave you’ll find what looks like the facade of a typical Chinese-style place of worship that adds a bit of traditional decoration to the entrance as well as serving a practical role of stabilizing the cave-front, which could easily be destroyed by a land slide or an earthquake. The artificially constructed cave-front ‘temple facade’ features beautiful golden calligraphy that reads “仙洞巖” (Fairy Cave), and has a double-layered temple roof with a dharma wheel on the apex, indicating that a Buddhist place of worship is found within.

To the right of the main entrance you’ll find a large cement pedestal with a giant statue of the Buddha on it, but what interested me the most about the cave-front are the remnants of the Japanese-era Shinto Shrine on the opposite side of the giant Buddha where you’ll find some objects dating back to the early years of the Showa era.

Although the temple within the cave is primarily a Buddhist place of worship, like so many other temples throughout Taiwan, you’ll find a mixture of figures from both Buddhism and Taiwanese folk religion, with several interesting shrines inside. While space is obviously quite limited in the cave, you’ll find almost as many shrines as you would in a typical several-floored temple indicating a pretty good use of space.

The interior is essentially divided into three sections or ‘halls’ with the two largest known as “Yuantong Hall” (圓通寶殿) and “Mahavira Hall” (大雄寶殿), with a much smaller offshoot cave featuring a small shrine.

As soon as you enter the cave you’ll find yourself in the ‘Yuantong Hall’, with a shrine devoted to the Maitreya Buddha (彌勒佛), an offering table and an incense table very close to the front door. On both the left and right sides of the shrine you’ll find statues of the Four Heavenly Kings (四大天王), who are generally regarded as protector deities.

Passing by the first shrine, you’ll walk down a set of stairs and will find another shrine dedicated to a number of important Buddhist figures, including a couple variations of Guanyin (觀世音菩薩), accompanied by Skanda (韋馱菩薩), Samgharama (伽藍神) and the Earth God (土地公), a folk religion deity. On either side of the shrine you’ll also find a display of the famed eighteen arhats (十八羅漢), the Buddha’s most important disciples.

To the direct left of this shrine you’ll find the entrance to the smallest shrine room in the Fairy Cave, an extremely narrow several meter long path that is only wide enough for one-way traffic, and in parts becomes so small that you’ll have to crouch and twist and turn to get yourself through.

If you’re even a little claustrophobic, this path isn’t for you as it’s likely to give you a panic attack.

All of the hard work getting through the narrow path doesn’t really pay off for most people as once you get to the end you’re met with a simple shrine in a dark room where the air is a bit stagnant. The shrine at the end of the cave is dedicated to Benzaiten (弁才天 / べんざいてん), the Buddhist and Shinto figure mentioned above and is a fitting tribute to the Fairy Cave’s history.

The Benzaiten Shrine

Passing from the first part of the cave into the main area, you’ll find some beautifully carved images along the cave wall. These images took several years to create, and you’ll often find visitors praying next to them as they depict important Buddhist figures, including Manjusri (文殊菩薩), Ksitigarbha Buddha (地藏菩薩) and four images of Guanyin (觀世音菩薩). Unlike some of the other carvings on the cave wall that date back hundreds of years, these are relatively new as they were created in the early 1970s.

The Guanyin Shrine

As I mentioned earlier, the largest and widest section of the cave is home to the main shrine, known as “Mahavira Hall” (大雄寶殿), which doesn’t sound very Chinese, right? It is actually one of the most common titles used for Buddhist shrines throughout East Asia, translated directly from Sanskrit and literally means “Precious Hall of the Great Hero,” but is often translated simply as “Great Hall,” which I think loses a bit of its intended meaning.

In the dim-lit cave, the main shrine almost glows as you approach it with the large golden ‘Three Treasure’ Buddha statues (三寶佛). In the middle you’ll find Shakyamuni (釋迦牟尼佛) with the Medicine Buddha (藥師佛) and Amida Buddha (阿彌陀佛) on either side, accompanied by dozens of smaller Buddha statues surrounding them to the rear and sides. As the main attraction of the Fairy Cave temple, this area is usually the busiest with visitors stopping by to pray while others grab a cushion to sit on the floor to meditate.

It can be a busy place, but also quite peaceful at the same time.

Within the main cave you’ll also find three smaller shrines, two of which are housed in cute miniature temple-looking buildings. To the left of the shrine you’ll find the Goddess of Childbirth (註生娘娘), a local folk religion deity. The other miniature temple is dedicated to the legendary Chinese scholar and poet, Lu Dongbin (呂洞賓), who is most well-known today as one of the ‘Eight Immortals’ (八仙).

The Japanese Jizo statue

Finally, the last of the smaller shrines is located on the right of the main shrine - a nod to the cave’s history there is a small shrine to Ksitigarbha Buddha (地藏菩薩), better known in Japan as ‘Jizo’ (じぞうぼさつ), and is one of the nation’s most loved and respected religious figures. In this case, it’s important to note that the Jizo that appears in this shrine is a Japanese-style Buddha, although its history is unclear, it might possibly be one of the original statues from the Japanese-era.

Calligraphy etched into the walls

Finally, I think it’s important to mention that there are a number of carvings on the walls throughout the cave, some of which are not only historic, but are quite beautiful in the calligraphy that they present. With a collection of almost two dozen phrases and idioms ranging from the late Qing Dynasty through to the Japanese-era, it would honestly take me far too long to translate each of them for you, so I’m not going to bother at this point, but if you find yourself in the cave, I highly recommend taking some time to check them out even if you can’t understand what they say.

Buddha’s Hand Cave (佛手洞)

Entrance to the Buddha’s cave

Located less than thirty meters away from the entrance to the Fairy Cave, you’ll find a footpath that wraps around the mountain to reveal another cave entrance, this time to the ‘Buddha’s Hand Cave’ (佛手洞).

Prior to receiving its most recent name, the cave was home to a habitat of bats, and locals simply referred to the caverns as ‘the bat cave’ (蝙蝠洞). During the Second World War, the cave was used as an air raid shelter while allied bombing runs targeted the nearby port, and other military installations in the area. With so much human activity in the caves, the number of bats declined and eventually they had enough of all the humans invading their space and moved out.

Consisting of a number of caverns, at some point the local government poured a bunch of concrete on the cave floor and electrified areas to provide some extra light within the cave in order to better promote it to local tourists. While not entirely necessary, given the amount of natural light that comes into the caves, it probably saves people from injuring themselves on wet days, which lets face it is most of the time in Keelung.

Walking through the lit caverns of the Buddha’s cave

Remarkably quiet, save for the sound of tourists, the natural sea-eroded cave features a high ceiling and smooth cave walls thanks to thousands of years of weathering and erosion. With natural mountain water dripping from the ceiling, the cave can be damp at times, but the sound of water drops is sometimes all that you’ll hear while exploring the cave, which is a welcome break from the busy city.

The current name of the cave is derived from a naturally designed pattern on part of the cave ceiling that appears similar to a giant hand, similar to the image of the Buddha’s hand, which has become a well-known image within Buddhist iconography, signifying generosity and peace. The design, caused by natural weathering in the rock has turned somewhat green and is easily noticeable while exploring the cave.

If you find yourself visiting Keelung on a hot summer day, the cave can be a great place of refuge from the sun as the various entrances allow for a nice amount of air to blow through proving a natural air conditioner for visitors.

Can you see it?

If you’re like myself and aren’t particularly impressed by all the rock formations that are popular tourist destinations with the locals in Taiwan, never fear, exploring the cave is already a cool enough experience that you don’t really have to spend too much time checking out the so-called Buddha’s hand, even though I have to admit, it does actually look like a hand.

Getting There

 

Address: No. 1, Renan St, Zhongshan District, Keelung City (基隆市中山區仙洞里仁安街1號)

GPS: 25.145208°N 121.748374°E

Located on the western side of Keelung Harbor, both the Fairy Cave and Buddha’s Cave are located within a historic area of the city, but also a pretty remote section of town. As a somewhat popular tourist attraction, you’ll often find quite a few visitors on weekends and national holidays. However, unless you have your own means of transportation, getting to the cave is somewhat of a hassle for anyone unfamiliar with the city.

If you have access to your own means of transportation, simply input the address provided above into your GPS or Google Maps and you should have no problem arriving at the cave. Fortunately, there is an ample amount of parking nearby, so you shouldn’t have much trouble finding a spot, even if the cave is busy. It’s important to keep in mind though that the area is often frequented by large trucks transporting things back and forth out of the port, and the road conditions are often a bit difficult with what seems to be perpetual construction between the area where the station and the cave are located. If you’re driving a car, you may find yourself stuck in traffic while road work is taking place.

If you’ve ever read any of my articles about Keelung, you’ll probably have already seen my complaints regarding public transportation in the city - I absolutely love visiting Keelung, but without access to sharable bicycle and scooter systems like YouBike and GoShare, it makes getting around somewhat difficult for anyone coming from out-of-town without a car.

So if you’ve arrived in Keelung and are looking for a way to get around on your own, I recommend visiting one of the scooter rental shops opposite the train station where you can rent a scooter for the day.

If you don’t have a scooter license, your options will more or less rely on walking, taxi’s or city buses.

From the train station, the cave is about a thirty-nine minute walk, making a visit a major time investment, especially if you have other places to visit on your itinerary. Taking a taxi there and back can also be quite expensive, so your best option is to simply take one of the public buses that stop nearby.

To get to the Fairy Cave, you have the option of the following three bus routes:

  1. Keelung Bus (基隆公車) 301 (Taibaizhuang 太白莊)

  2. Keelung Bus (基隆公車) 302 (Zhongshan Senior High School 中山高中)

  3. Keelung Bus (基隆公車) 304 (Gaoyuan New Village 高遠新村)

For each of the buses, you can hop on at a bus station near the Keelung Train Station (基隆火車站), and you’ll get off at the Fairy Cave Stop (仙洞巖站) where both caves are a two minute walk away.

When you’re done, simply hop on one of the buses back to the train station.

For bus 301 and 304, you’ll find the bus stop at the South entrance to Keelung Station (基隆火車站南站) while 302 can be taken from the Keelung City Bus Station (基隆火車站總站) nearby.

While it might seem like somewhat of an obscure tourist destination, exploring a place of worship within a cave is actually a pretty interesting experience. The Fairy Cave is damp, and the air inside is a constant haze of incense, but the temple certainly stands apart from all of the others that you’ll come across in Taiwan.

A visit to both the Buddha’s Cave and the Fairy Cave will only require about an hour of your time, so if you’re in town to check out the famed night market, a stop over at these caves will be a cool adventure.

References

  1. 仙洞巖 | Xian Dong Yan (Wiki)

  2. 仙洞巖 | Fairy Cave (基隆旅遊網)

  3. 仙洞巖 (國家文化資產網)

  4. 仙洞巖 (台灣宗教文化資產)

  5. 仙洞巖與佛手洞 (地球上的火星人)

  6. 仙洞巖.佛手洞.大武崙海灘 (Tony的自然人文旅記)

  7. 佛手洞 (基隆旅遊網)


The Coastal Railway Five Treasures (海線五寶)

I’ve spent a considerable amount of time as of late making my way up and down Taiwan’s Western Coast Railway visiting a handful of historic railway stations, taking photos, and then researching and writing about them. Many of you might wonder why I spend so much of my time visiting a bunch of old train stations, but if you’ve read any of my articles about them, you probably have your answer.

The reason I’ve written about a select group of them is because they’re going to be celebrating their centennial year of operation this year (2022), and with so little information about them available in English, I figured it was a good time to tell their story. Even though I realize that a bunch of one hundred year old train stations isn’t all that exciting for most people, it is a tremendously rare thing for buildings of this nature to have lasted so long in Taiwan, and even rarer to find them still in operation today. 

In many ways, Taiwan’s rapid modern development has been great for the people of this beautiful country, but for all of the pros, there are obviously going to be some cons; One of the unfortunate aspects of all of Taiwan’s growth over the last few decades is that much of the history of this beautiful island has been bulldozed in order to make way for modernity. If I were to focus only on the topic at hand, there were originally sixteen of these railway stations along the Coastal Railway Branch. Today, we celebrate the five that remain, but its important to keep in mind that seventy percent of them have already been lost to history.

Of course, in some cases the rapid population growth of communities around the country has necessitated such actions with these smaller stations unable to handle with the amount of passengers passing through on a daily basis, but its still a shame that so many of these important pieces of Taiwan’s history have disappeared over the years.

Fortunately, the five remaining stations that I’m going to briefly introduce below have been designated as protected heritage buildings, which should help to ensure that they will continue to exist for quite some time. 

Known locally among railway aficionados as the “Coastal Railway Five Treasures” (海鮮五寶), each of these wooden Japanese-era railway stations date back to 1922 and have been fortunate to last as long as they have mostly because they serve small communities where there was never really a huge growth in population.

That being said, even though they continue to remain in operation today, they are also considered by many as living museums given that they do an amazing job of putting local history on display. 

To tell their story, I will first have to introduce a bit about the history of the Coastal Railway where they’re located, and then I’ll follow by providing a brief introduction to each of the stations with links to their individual articles and a map where you’ll be able to find them. 

If you have any interest in Taiwan’s history, the Japanese-era, or the railway, it’s a pretty good year to take a bit of time to visit one, two or all of these beautiful train stations.

The Coastal Railway (海岸線 / かいがんせん)

The history of the railway in Taiwan dates back as far as 1891 (光緒17), when the last Qing governor, Liu Mingchuan (劉銘傳), attempted to have a route stretching from Keelung (基隆) to Hsinchu (新竹) constructed. The construction of the railway however came at too high of a cost, given that the Qing rulers cared very little about what was happening in Taiwan as well as the fact that they were contending with war (and revolution), so plans to have it extended any further were put on hold.

A few short years later in 1895 (明治28), the Japanese took control of Taiwan, and brought with them a team of skilled western-educated engineers tasked with developing proposals to have the already established railway repaired as well as to come up with suggestions for extending it all the way to the south and beyond.   

The Jūkan Tetsudō Project (縱貫鐵道 / ゅうかんてつどう), otherwise known as the ‘Taiwan Trunk Railway Project’ sought to have the railroad pass through each of Taiwan’s established settlements, including Kirin (基隆), Taihoku (臺北), Shinchiku (新竹), Taichu (臺中), Tainan (臺南) and Takao (高雄). 

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

Amazingly, the more than four-hundred kilometer railway was completed in 1908 (明治41), and connected the north to the south with a transportation route for the first time ever. Taking just over a decade to complete, the railway would become instrumental in changing the landscape of Taiwan’s modern development, but was ultimately the key to the colonial regime’s master plan of ensuring that Taiwan’s precious natural resources would be able to be processed efficiently and sent back to Japan.

Once completed, the Railway Department of the Governor General of Taiwan (台灣總督府交通局鐵道部) set its sights on constructing public and private branch lines across the island, as well as expanding the railway network with a line that spanned the entire eastern coast. 

Note: Privatized Branch Lines refer to those used by companies engaged in the extraction or production of commodities such as timber, sugarcane, tobacco, coal, gold, etc.

However, after almost a decade of service, unforeseen circumstances in central Taiwan necessitated changes in the way that the western railway operated with issues arising due to typhoon and earthquake damage. More specifically, the Western Trunk railway in southern Miaoli had to pass through mountains and required climbing up a steep incline in sections before eventually crossing bridges across the Da’an (大安溪) and Da’jia Rivers (大甲溪). Due to these geographic limitations, and flaws in the original design, issues caused by natural disasters created a tremendous amount of traffic congestion, and periodic service outages when the railway and the bridges had to be repaired or rebuilt. 

Link: Long-Teng Bridge (龍騰斷橋)

To solve the problem of passenger and freight congestion, the team of railway engineers came up with a solution, known as the “Kaigan-sen” (かいがんせん / 海岸線), or the Coastal Railway Branch Line.

With construction of the branch line planned between Chikunangai (ちくなんがい / 竹南街) and Shoka (しょうかちょう / 彰化廳), or what we refer to today as Zhunan (竹南) and Changhua (彰化), the line would divert from the already existing railway and follow a route closer to the coast where the mountains could be avoided.

Link: Western Trunk Line | 縱貫線 (Wiki)

These plans however met with consternation from residents of Taichung who considered the Coastal Railway a dagger to the heart of the economic development and growth of the city. They figured that with the Taichung Port (located on the opposite side of the mountains) processing most of the freight coming from central Taiwan, the city would become a ghost town as the new line would shift development to the coastal side of the mountains

In spite of the protests taking place in Taichung, Governor General Akashi Motojirō (明石 元二郎/あかしもとじろう), who is remembered today as one of the most consequential governors of the Japanese era (thanks to his significant contributions to the economy and infrastructure development projects), held steadfast and made sure that construction on the Coastal Railway came to fruition.   

Note: Even though Governor General Akashi Motojiro held his post for just over a year before he fell ill and died, he is credited with the creation of the the Taiwan Power Company (臺灣電力株式會社), the massive Chianan Irrigation System (嘉南大圳), the Sun Moon Lake Hydroelectric Power Plant, and of course the Coastal Railway.

The Governor’s foresight and planning for the future helped to ensure that the island could continue its rapid development, and he used his political influence to ensure that funding was made available from the Japanese government back home. 

Link: Akashi Motojiro | 明石元二郎 (Wiki) 

Kiyomizu / Qingshui Station (清水車站)

Construction on the ninety kilometer Coastal Line started in 1919, and amazingly was completed just a few short years later in 1922 (大正11). Servicing sixteen stations, all of which (as I mentioned above) remain in service today.

What many people are unaware of though is that within a year of the project starting, the first section, known as the ‘Oda Branch Line’ (王田支線) between Oda Station (王田驛) and Kiyomizu Station (清水驛) in southern Taichung opened for service on December 25th, 1920 (大正10年). In today’s terms, the branch line essentially started at Chenggong Station (成功車站), and curved north with a final stop at Qingshui Station (清水車站), where freight could be more efficiently transported to Taichung Port.

To this day, the opening of the Oda Branch Line is interpreted by many as a method of appeasing the people of Taichung. who were weary of the Coastal Branch, but quickly took to the new line as it provided a means of visiting the nearby beach on the weekend. Similarly, it was also seen as a practical move to ensure that freight could be transported to the Taichung port on the western coast as soon as possible.

It would take another two years for the rest of the Coastal Line from Chikunan (竹南 / ちくなんぐん) to Shoka (彰化 / しょうかぐん) to be completed, with the official opening ceremonies taking place on October 11th, 1922 (大正12年) at Tsū-shou Station (通霄驛) in southern Miaoli.

Fortunately for the residents of Taichung, the economic disaster that was predicted never took place, and the city continued to grow thanks to the new line - Even better, the Coastal Railway connected communities in Miaoli and Taichung that had yet to have access to the railway, allowing them to grow as well as ensuring that their own agricultural products would be able to be shipped around the island, as well as being exported back to Japan, providing a tremendous economic opportunity for them.

This was especially true when it came to agricultural products such as watermelons from northern Miaoli, and the ‘Emperors Rice’ cultivated in southern Miaoli. That being said, there was also a considerable amount of coal, camphor, clay, bricks and other products originating from the sixteen stations along the railway. 

The sixteen stations along the Coastal Railway, including the two termini stations are as follows:

(Japanese-era romanization / kanji / hiragana / current name) 

  1. Chikunan Station (竹南驛/ちくなんえき) / Zhunan (竹南車站)

  2. Tanbunmizūmi Station (談文湖駅 / だんぶんみずうみえき) / Tanwen (談文車站)

  3. Oyamagashi Station (大山腳驛 / おうやま あしえき) / Dashan (大山車站)

  4. Kōryū Station (後龍驛/こうりゅうえき) / Houlong (後龍車站)

  5. Koshiryo Station (公司寮驛 /こうしりやう) / Longgang (龍港車站)

  6. Hakushaton Station (白沙屯驛/はくしゃとんえき) / Baishatun (白沙屯車站)

  7. Shin-ho Station (新埔驛 / しんほえき) / Xinpu (新埔車站)

  8. Tsū-shou Station (通霄驛 / つうしょうえき) / Tongxiao (通宵車站)

  9. Enri Station (苑裡驛 / えんりえき) / Yuanli (苑裡車站)

  10. Nichinan Station (日南驛 / にちなんえき) / Rinan (日南車站)

  11. Taikō Station (大甲驛/たいこうえき) / Dajia (大甲車站)

  12. Kōnan Station (甲南驛/こうなんえき) / Taichung Port (台中港車站)

  13. Kiyomizu Station (清水驛 / きよみずえき) / Qingshui (清水車站)

  14. Sharoku Station (沙鹿驛/しゃろくえき) / Shalu (沙鹿車站)

  15. Tatsui Station (龍井驛/たついえき) / Longjing (龍井車站)

  16. Daito Station (大肚驛 / だいとえき) / Dadu (大肚車站)

  17. Oiwake Station (追分驛 / おいわけえき) / Zhuifen (追分車站)

  18. Shōka Station (彰化驛/しょうかえき) / Changhua (彰化車站)

Interestingly, when the Japanese-era came to an end in 1945, and the Chinese Nationalists took control of Taiwan, the vast majority of the stations maintained the same names, save for a pronunciation change from Japanese to Mandarin. The only stations that went through a name change were the fifth station, Koshiryo Station (公司寮驛), which was changed to Longgang Station (龍港車站) and the twelfth station, Kōnan Station (甲南驛, which was changed to Taichung Port Station (台中港車站).

In the first case, the name change was a bit strange given that ‘Gongsiliao Fishing Harbor’ (後龍公司寮漁港), a short walk from the station uses the Mandarin pronunciation of the Japanese-era name.

The name “Longgang” is a abbreviation of ‘Houlong Fishery Harbor' (後龍漁港), which makes sense.

In the latter case, I don’t see much issue with the name change as the station is used primary for those wanting to reach the Port of Taichung, although the freight services that were once the bread and butter of the station have pretty much dried up as the Port of Taichung has grown and modernized.  

Over the past century, the Coastal Railway has remained an important route for passenger service and transporting freight, however when the Mountain Line (山線) was widened into a dual-track system, the amount of trains traveling along the line gradually reduced. These days, the Coastal Railway is most frequently serviced by Local Commuter Trains (區間車) that stop at each station along the route.

Like the Mountain Line however, the Coastal Railway has also gone through a similar period of modernization, including the widening of the tracks into a dual-track system, allowing more trains to travel back and forth as well as the electrification of the entire network.

Link: Qiding Railway Tunnels

Express trains are now able to their way through the Coastal Railway, but they only stop at larger stations such as Zhunan, Houlong, Tongxiao, Yuanli, Dajia, Qingshui, Shalu and Changhua.

Admittedly, when traveling or returning home, I’m always excited when I discover that my ticket displays that my train will travel along the coastal route, which is the more scenic of the two lines. I’m sure for many locals the feeling is mutual as you really get to enjoy Taiwan’s beauty along the route.  

Unfortunately as the railway has modernized over the past century, so have many of the stations along the line, which have been completely rebuilt, replacing the original stations constructed in the 1920s.

Today, only a handful of stations constructed during the Japanese-era remain in operation, known as the “Coastal Railway Five Treasures” (海線五寶), these historic stations (as well as the coastal railway itself) will celebrate their one-hundred year anniversary this year (2022).

Fortunately, as I mentioned earlier, now that they’ve all been designated as Protected Historic Properties by either the Taichung City Government or the Miaoli County Government, they will be preserved for future generations to enjoy - and will hopefully also remain in operation for quite some time.  

Below, I’ll briefly introduce each of those five stations and provide links to their individual articles for you to learn more about them.

Coastal Railway Five Treasures (海鮮五寶)

Known locally as the ‘Coastal Railway Five Treasures’ these five railway stations along the Coastal Railway between Zhunan and Changhua are historically significant for quite a few reasons, but most importantly are part of a select few stations around Taiwan that have remained in operation for the past one hundred years. 

Writing this article, I may be accused of political bias as there is a bit of contention with regard to the proper nickname used to describe the stations. 

When most people talk about them, its natural to refer to them as the “Coastal Railway Five Treasures”, but if you’re from the ‘sovereign nation’ of Miaoli-kuo (苗栗國), you’d probably prefer to refer to use the term “Miaoli Three Treasures” (苗栗三寶), completely disregarding the two stations located in Taichung. 

The notion that Miaoli is a country of its own is an interesting one, and I’m sure someone could (or probably already has) write an entire thesis on this running joke and how it originated. What I will say is that in the Chinese language, the term Three Treasures (三寶) is a much more auspicious and meaningful number than five, so linguistically it has more sway.

Note: “Three Treasures” (三寶) linguistically refers to “the Buddha”, “the Dharma”, and “the Sangha” (佛寶, 法寶, 僧寶) in Buddhism, also known as the “Three Jewels” or the “Three Roots” and is a term that has significant meaning throughout Asia. That being said, the term “三寶” (sān bǎo) has taken on a number of meanings ranging from Hong Kong style of bento box that features three kinds of meat (三寶飯), or an idiot driving on the road (馬路三寶), among others. 

But if you’re not from Miaoli, you should probably include the two stations in Taichung, because they deserve the same amount of respect!

All five of the so-called ‘treasures’ were (more or less) constructed with the exact same architectural design, although they may appear slightly different today, due to their age or modifications that may have taken place over the past century. One might argue that if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all, but that would be a bit misguided as there are some pretty important architectural differences found within the stations that you’ll be able to enjoy if you visit each of them. Similarly, the area that surrounds each of the stations has grown over the past century, so while exploring you’ll be able to get a feel of what the area was like a hundred years ago.

For railway enthusiasts, these stations are pretty important attractions, but for the rest of us, only a few of them might be attractive tourist destinations. Nevertheless, if you find yourself in the area, I highly recommend stopping by to check them out.

So, without further adieu, let me briefly introduce each of the Five Treasure: 

Tanwen Railway Station (談文車站)

Original name: Tanbunmizūmi Station (談文湖駅 / だんぶんみずうみえき)

Current name: Tanwen Station (談文車站)

Opened: October 11th, 1922

Traveling south of Hsinchu, Tanwen Station is the first of the five treasures that you’ll come across. The station is located in a strange spot just off of the coastal highway in Miaoli’s Zaoqiao Township (造橋鄉). The station is considered to be in the worst shape of the five treasures, but it is arguably also one of the most beautiful as it maintains its century-old appearance, and is most often a pretty quiet place to visit with only tourists visiting at various points throughout the week. 

Address: #29 Ren-ai Road, Zaoqiao Township (苗栗縣造橋鄉談文村仁愛路29號) 

GPS: 24.656440 120.858330

Dashan Railway Station (大山車站)

Original name: Oyamagashi Station (大山腳驛 / おうやま あしえき)

Current name: Dashan Station (大山車站)

Opened: October 11th, 1922

Traveling south past Tanwen Station, the next stop along the Coastal Railway is Dashan Station, one of the best preserved of the five treasures. Dashan is located within a small coastal community in Miaoli’s Houlong township (後龍鎮) with views of the coast within sight of the platform.

The community near the station is pretty quiet, like the station itself, but don’t let that fool you, Dashan Station was once an extremely important stop along the railway as it was where they’d load copious amounts of delicious watermelons onto the trains bound for port in Taichung. 

Address: #180 Mingshan Road. Houlong Township (苗栗縣後龍鎮大山里明山路180號)

GPS: 24.645670, 120.803770

Xinpu Railway Station (新埔車站)

Original name: Shin-ho Station (新埔驛 / しんほえき)

Current name: Xinpu Station (新埔車站)

Opened: October 11th, 1922

The sixth station along the coastal railway, Xinpu Station is probably the least busiest of the bunch as it serves a very small community. It’s also geographically the closest station to the coast on the western railway. The station remains in pretty good shape, but the space around it is quite cramped due to a lack of space and the widening of the railway into a dual-track system.

The area near the station these days is home to a pretty popular bicycling route that follows the coast of Miaoli and Hsinchu. Most of the tourism these days involves people getting off the train with their bicycles and heading back up north on a bike ride. 

Address: #57, Hsinpu Village. Tongxiao Township (苗栗縣通霄鎮新埔里新埔57號)

GPS: 24.539850, 120.700350

Rinan Railway Station (日南車站)

Original name: Nichinan Station (日南驛 / にちなんえき)

Current name: Rinan Station (日南車站)

Opened: October 30th, 1922

Rinan Station is the ninth station along the line, and the first of the five treasures in Taichung. Located in the city’s Dajia District (大甲區), famed for its giant Mazu Temple, the station and the area around it has received a bit of attention over the years, allowing it to remain in pretty good shape.

The community that surrounds the station has similarly grown into a relatively busy place over the years, and having access to the railway helps to connect its residents to the rest of Taichung, making this the station one of the busiest of the five. 

Address: #8, Alley 140, Sec 2 Zhongshan Road. Dajia District, Taichung. (臺中市大甲區中山路二段140巷8號)

GPS: 24.378320, 120.653780

Zhuifen Railway Station (追分車站)

Original name: Oiwake Station (追分驛 / おいわけえき)

Current name: Zhuifen Station (追分車站)

Opened: October 11th, 1922

The sixteenth station on the Coastal Line, Zhuifen Station in southern Taichung City, located near the Dadu River where the railway crosses into Changhua is probably the most well-known of the five treasures.

The station is a popular attraction for tourists, students and young couples. Thanks to a play on words within the Chinese language, a ticket from Zhuifen Station (追分車站), and its next door neighbor Chenggong Station (成功車站) has become a local good luck charm with the “追分” and “成功” translating as ‘Making your dreams come true!’ (追分成功) or ‘successfully finding a partner for marriage’ (追婚成功).

The iconic trip has become just as well known in Taiwan as any Matchmaking God or God of Literature temple, and it is even mentioned in students history books. Zhuifen Station is located in an industrial area of Dadu District and there’s always some sort of construction going on nearby.

If you visit there will be volunteers there who are very happy to help introduce every special aspect of the station - certainly an experience that you won’t get at any of the other stations along the Coastal Railway.  

Address: #13 Zhuifen Street, Dadu District, Taichung City (臺中市大肚區追分街13號)

GPS: 24.120540, 120.570160

Getting There

On the map above, I’ve marked the locations of each of the five treasures in addition to the other stations along the Coastal Railway as well as some other railway-related locations in the area.

As with any of my articles about Taiwan’s historic train stations, if you ask me how to get there, it should be pretty obvious that I’m going to recommend that you take the train. The railway in Taiwan is one of the most convenient ways to travel, and if you’ve set out to visit a train station, why would you take another method of transportation?

I’ve listed the address and the GPS coordinates for each of the five treasures above, but if you’d prefer greater detail on how to get to each of the stations, I recommend clicking on the individual links where you’ll find a more detailed description.

Finally, if you’re asking for recommendations for the best method to visit the stations, I have a few opinions on the subject: I’d argue that traveling to all five of them in a single day is a bit excessive, especially since there is so much to see and do in the areas around the stations. Instead, I recommend splitting the trip in two and checking out the three in Miaoli on one excursion, and the two in Taichung on another day.

The great thing about both Miaoli and Taichung is that there is quite a bit to see and do, so if you’re in either area, you probably don’t want to spend the entire day chasing trains. 

If you don’t really care and insist on visiting all five in a single day, I recommend you take the High Speed Rail from wherever you are to Taichung (高鐵台中站) where you’ll transfer to Taiwan Railway’s Xinwuri Station (新烏日車站), which is coincidentally in the same building.

From there, Zhuifen Station is only two stops away and then you can make your way back up north along the Coastal Line stopping at Rinan, Xinpu, Dashan and Tanwen before heading back to Hsinchu.

If on the other hand you’re traveling from the south instead of the north, I recommend taking the train to Zhunan Station (竹南車站) and from there transferring to a southbound train on the Coastal Line.

Either way you’ll get to visit each of the stations while making your way back to where you’ve started.