Travel to Taiwan - National Palace Museum

In this video, you’ll learn what is jade cabbage and agate millstone
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Travel to Green island, Taiwan

Green Island lies in the Pacific Ocean 33 km east of Taitung City. The island, administered by the Taitung county government, is a mere 16.2 sq. km in size and has a top elevation of 281 meters. Formed by ancient volcanic activity, Green Island is surrounded by coral reefs and sedimentary rock. Wind, tides and time have sculpted many interesting and imposing geological formations around the island.

From the prehistoric relics excavated here, it is known that humans have inhabited Green Island for 3,000 to 4,000 years. The first Han Chinese immigrants arrived about 200 years ago. Since 1931, factories were set up to process dried chipped fish for export to Japan. In 1970, the island developed a booming industry of raising Sika deer, and at one point there were more deer than people on the island. The deer-raising industry has been in decline since 1986, though today the deer are one of Green Island’s tourism attractions.

Green Island first came under the management of the East Coast National Scenic Area Administration in 1990. Since then, services and facilities on the island have been steadily improved and the island has become a popular tourist destination.

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Travel to East Coast of Taiwan, Fanshuliao

One of the most unique canyons of the East Coast can be found in Fanshuliao. The terrain on the two sides of the canyon differs markedly due to longtime erosion by the river. The canyon itself is nearly 100 meters deep.

The Fanshuliao River is approximately 40 meters wide and, according to local legends, any young man who succeeded in pole vaulting over the river would be chosen as the tribal chief. Over the years, many young men are said to have died attempting this feat. Their poles remained stuck in the mud of the riverbed, where it is said they eventually formed a grove of bamboo that can be seen to this day.

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Travel to Taiwan Matsu

Kinmen gaoliang and Matsu laojiu have always been the two most representative brews of these two islands that stand as Taiwan’s first line of defense against mainland China. But very few people realize that gaoliang liquor (made from sorghum) is also distilled in Matsu, and it’s every bit as good as the stuff they make in Kinmen. It even has a nice bouquet you won’t find in Kinmen gaoliang.

According to Liu Jun-nan, head of the Matsu Distillery, liquors from Matsu used to be sold to the Taiwan Tobacco and Wine Board (TTWB), just like liquors from Kinmen, but the quantities were so small that the TTWB marketed it together with other liquors. More often than not it was used as the base for preparing various medicinal concoctions, such as deer-antler liquor. A few years ago, however, the Matsu Distillery started building up its own brand names and marketing its products directly, because the distillery felt it was a waste to have such fine products used merely as a mixer for medicine.

It is only natural that people should compare the gaoliang made in Matsu and Kinmen. Liu said that although gaoliang from Matsu and Kinmen are made using the same type of distilling process, the yeast is not the same. The Matsu Distillery is also quick to point out that its product is aged longer, and that it has a smoother taste, so that you can down a small cup in one shot.
Matsu gaoliang is twice distilled and twice fermented before being placed in the famous “Tunnel 88″ to age. All chengao (aged gaoliang) is kept in the tunnel for at least five years before it goes on the market.

Says Liu, “They sell Kinmen gaoliang in big quantities, so they can’t wait for it to age that long, but in Matsu we strongly believe that good liquor is worth waiting for.” Liu adds that while age isn’t as important with gaoliang as it is with grape wine, it remains a fact that the older it is, the better it tastes. Tunnel 88 was originally an air raid shelter. It was bored into the base of a granite hill, so it stays at a relatively even temperature, warm in winter and cool in summer.

That makes the tunnel ideal for long-term aging. As time goes by, odd and impure tastes in the liquor are eliminated.

In the past, imbibers liked for their liquors to pack a punch, which is why the potent daqujiu was very popular. More recently, however, people have begun to put more emphasis on taste and body. Fewer people drink daqujiu these days, and the Matsu Distillery has deliberately reduced the alcohol content of chengao.

Liu explains: “Daqujiu has an alcohol content of at least 60%, and it’s also 57% with Kinmen gaoliang, but we hold the alcohol in our chengao to 47%. And the most popular product on the market these days is dan li gaoliang, which is only 42%.” He adds that the Matsu Distillery sells 2 million bottles a year. Because there is no distillery in Fuzhou, a lot of mainland Chinese go way out of their way to buy in Matsu in spite of the high prices. They often buy a lot more than they need, then turn around and resell the extra liquor back home.

Matsu laojiu is also very famous, but its production has been suspended in recent years because the distillery has been focusing primarily on gaoliang as its main product. Luckily, however, liquor dealers all have a lot of laojiu in stock.

Laojiu is one type of huangjiu. It is made by soaking glutinous rice in water, boiling, pouring it into a vat, and then adding red yeast to start fermentation. After 30 days the liquor is ready to be consumed. The dregs have a very rich fragrance and are an often-used condiment in Fuzhou cuisine.

Pretty much everyone used to brew their own laojiu in Matsu. Fishermen warm up with a swig before setting out to sea, and the local women also drink it while recuperating from childbirth, as it has medicinal properties that rice wine cannot match.

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Travel to Taiwan Matsu ..explore Matsu Cake

“Matsu cakes” are one of the more popular sweets in eastern Fujian Province. They were originally known as qima cakes until former president Chiang Ching-kuo, who was serving as Minister of Defense at the time, visited Matsu in 1964. He took an immediate liking to the delectable little treats and exclaimed, “Matsu is the only place you can find these things. You should change the name to ‘Matsu cakes.’” And people have been calling them precisely that ever since!

Matsu cakes are made from flour and eggs, and are actually quite similar to yam cakes, a traditional sweet on the main island of Taiwan. First the flour and eggs are mixed together, then the dough is cut into small bits and deep fried. After they are removed from the oil and cooled, they are coated with malt syrup and pressed together into a big flat disc shape, which is then cut into strips. They go together very well with tea or coffee.

There was once a time when Matsu cakes were only made by two traditional confectioners, Tienmei Hsuen and Paoli Hsuen. Now that tourists are allowed to visit Matsu, however, demand has risen sharply, and other confectioners have gotten into the business.

Kao Ming-chung, who just took over Paoli Hsuen from his father last year, relates that even though he had served as an assistant to his father ever since childhood, it was only after he took over the reins himself that he realized the full complexity of the task.

“A really good Matsu cake has to be crispy yet soft, and soft yet firm. And every maker has to have his own secrets that set his cakes apart from everyone else’s. We make these things by hand, so the quantity is quite limited. But some confectioners now bake the dough instead of deep frying it, and they press it by machine. This results in a very low fat content and a loss of the excellent texture of the hand-made type.

There is hardly any difference between these products and the yam cakes they make in Taiwan. These people have taken the ‘Matsu’ out of the Matsu cake,” complains Kao. That is why some of the older shops in Matsu insist on making their Matsu cakes by hand.

Although the fame of Matsu cakes has spread far and wide, Kao notes that hibiscus cakes, which are similar to the shaqima made in Taiwan, are actually the best-loved confection in Matsu.

Shaqima and hibiscus cakes are made using the same methods, but the difference is that hibiscus cakes are made from glutinous rice, which is mashed, cut into strips, deep fried, and stirred. The process is more complicated than that used to make Matsu cakes, and they are produced in smaller quantity.

“When I was a kid we didn’t enjoy anything like today’s affluence,” says 35-year-old Kao. “You were thankful if you had food on the table. Confections made from fancy glutinous rice were a real luxury, so we didn’t make the stuff in any great quantity.

Now that the standard of living has gone up, Paoli Hsuen can sell as many as a thousand boxes of its hand-made cakes per month even in the winter, and when the summer comes and ferry service isn’t interrupted quite so often, we can sell twice that amount. But the thing about hand-made cakes is that you have to work your tail off.” And that is why he has developed arthritis in his hands.

Unlike Matsu cakes and hibiscus cakes, both of which are southern-style sweets, there is another famous confection in Matsu-jiguang cakes-that are made very much in the northern style.

According to local legend, these were invented by the Ming-dynasty general Qi Jiguang, who had his troops string them together and hang them around their necks to eat while they were on the march. The main ingredient is flour. To produce a thick, puffy dough with a firm bite, you can’t let the walls of the oven get too hot or the cakes will peel away from the wall and get ruined.

In all of Matsu, Paoli Hsuen is the only confectioner that makes jiguang cakes, and virtually everyone in Nankan Township is familiar with Kao’s father, Kao Chin-pao. It is said in Matsu that eating jiguang cakes will keep you from getting seasick, so everyone always buys some before boarding a ferry bound for Taiwan.

Kao Ming-chung laughs when asked about this custom and says that people exaggerate. Says Kao, “It’s just that jiguang cakes, unlike seafood products, have a nice, clean taste that doesn’t make you feel like vomiting when you eat them aboard ship.” At restaurants in Fuzhou they like to split the cakes down the middle and put various fillings inside. They call these treats “Matsu hamburgers.”

Matsu has long played host to a large military population, and for this reason its Matsu cakes, hibiscus cakes, and jiguang cakes present a melange of southern and northern confectionery styles. But the confectioners in Matsu are all small operations, and ship service to Taiwan is very unreliable, so you’ll have to make a trip to Matsu if you’re thinking of getting a taste of these goodies!

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let’s travel to Taiwan..Matsu

The pristine waters off Matsu provide abundant fishing grounds, and fishing vessels regularly return to port loaded with big catches of shrimp, sardines, Jew fish, grouper, pomfret, “Buddha’s hand” clams, and all sorts of seaweed.

Coastal aquaculture products include oysters and seaweed. Since as far back as anyone can remember, fishing has been the lifeblood of Matsu. Of the many fish products from Matsu, perhaps the best known of all are fish noodles and fish balls.

Fish noodles are a special type of noodle particular to China’s southeast coastal region. They are made from four parts cornstarch and six parts eel, drum, and other high-grade fish. The mass is then rolled, pressed, cut, and dried in the sun. They go excellently in a hot pot, and are also very delicious served as a regular bowl of noodles.

Because of the high fish content in the fish noodles made in Matsu, when you eat them it practically feels like you’re eating a noodle-shaped fish ball. When made into fried noodles they are very chewy and carry a tasty fish flavor.

Li Huo-chin, a woman from Tangchi Village in Peikan, has been making fish noodles for over 20 years. She says that she and her husband can make more than 200 packets a day, but they aren’t so popular any more, and it’s a good day when they sell even a hundred packets.

Mrs. Li also makes fish balls, which, like most fish balls in Matsu, have a high fish-to-flour ratio. The flour-stuffed fish balls they make on Taiwan can’t begin to compare with Mrs. Li’s light-grey delicacies, which have a nice, firm bite.

Back in the days when all fish balls were made by hand, they often joked in Matsu that if a couple who made fish balls got in a big spat, you should be sure and buy their fish balls the next day, for the husband and wife would both work off their anger the next day by pounding the fish paste extra fine, which would result in especially delicious fish balls.

Today all fish balls are made with the aid of machinery, but Mrs. Li stresses that fish balls have to have lots of fish meat in them to be good, and there’s no fooling people on that score.

As soon as I walked into the store, I saw Mrs. Li telling some customers how good her fish balls were and how they should give them a try. Although they kept declining, Mrs. Li still went back into the kitchen and brought out a big bowl of fish balls. And there were a lot more fish balls than broth!

As we sat around eating the fish balls, Mrs. Li, speaking in Fuzhou dialect, lamented that her four sons and two daughters had all gone their various ways, leaving no one to keep the business in the family.

“Young people today don’t want to do tough work like this, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep it up myself either.” She asked me to be sure to write in my article that she would be glad to teach for free any young people willing to learn the trade.

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let’s continue travel to Taiwan’s Matsu

If the sight of the old villages gives one something to think about, crossing from island to island gives one a physical workout.

Matsu’s ferry boats are tossed around on the choppy seas, and any visit to the uninhabited islets, for fishing or bird-watching, entails a bracing encounter with the wind and the waves.
Every year the Matsu Rock Fishing Association runs a contest, to which top anglers from around Taiwan are invited. We chanced upon Li Chin-hsin, chairman of the Penghu County Coastal Angling Association, who explained that Matsu’s location near the mouth of the Minjiang River, where fresh water from the river mingles with salty ocean water, gives it an abundance of the types of fish favored by coastal anglers. Additionally, the fact that the sea is so deep just off the coast, makes for an anglers’ paradise. Even if you don’t catch many fish, a day spent standing with a rod at the edge of the waves is a great way to chill out.

If bird-watching is your thing, you need to remember to bring your binoculars and camera.
Matsu is just off the coast of Fujian, as is the island of Kinmen, but unlike Kinmen it has no wetlands, and therefore has a different set of bird species-both resident and migratory-from that island. In 2000 the county council designated eight uninhabited islets as protected areas for terns. Visitors are not allowed to set foot on these islets, but they can approach by boat, cut the engine, and observe the birds through binoculars. The gulls soar above while the people bob about on the waves-all part of the same natural continuum, all sharing in the wonder of creation.

If there’s time enough, you can carry on across the sea to the isles of Tungyin and Chukuang, and see the lighthouse which has witnessed the comings and goings of sea traffic for the past hundred years.

The Tungchu Lighthouse, which dates from 1872, has been listed as a grade two historic monument. Originally it was commissioned by a British company to aid the navigation of the merchant vessels that began to converge on the Minjiang estuary following the Opium Wars. It is a round column 19.5 meters high, made of white granite, with lush grass at its base and several European-style buildings alongside.

The lighthouse stands there like a young girl in white, poised on a green shore against a backdrop of deep blue ocean. It’s a lovely sight to gaze upon, and it provided the perfect finale for our tour of Matsu.

The trip brought us into contact with nature, with key military areas, with religious places, and with history. On a visit to Matsu, living history, in a succession of different scenes, seems to pass before one’s eyes.

Nowadays the Taiwanese are avidly recovering what they can of the vanishing culture of their homeland, and are rebuilding, one brick at a time, the structures of their past. So why not take a trip to Matsu this summer, during the months from May to September when the weather is at its finest. Matsu is sure to leave you with a lovely, and lasting impression.

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Another of Matsu’s “sights” is its many soldiers. There are far less now than there used to be, but they still outnumber local inhabitants.

When a military supply ships dock at Makang, the wharf seems suddenly overrun with army personnel loading and unloading. For tourists come to visit the Matsu temple, it’s a rare chance to witness a “military action.” In fact, the army is present in every corner of Matsu, and military facilities are as ubiquitous as folk temples.

Seeing the soldiers in action, you can’t but feel awed by the hardships endured and feats achieved to build up and defend this island base. A few steps further along the wharf you come to the temple, where a statue of Matsu awaits you with a smile, seated amid wafting incense smoke.

Matsu’s religious culture, which reflects that of eastern Fujian, features a pantheon of local gods-often real people who achieved something special during their lives and were subsequently deified. The village of Chiaotzu on Peikan Isle, badly affected by population loss, has five temples housing 10-20 idols apiece-meaning that the village now has more gods than people.

There’s a common perception that the goddess Matsu-after whom the island group was named-must be the focus of all religious activity here, but in fact there are only nine Matsu temples among the 60 or so temples on the islands. The god with the largest number of temples dedicated to him is called the White Horse King: a real general who once defended eastern Fujian. There are temples dedicated to various other gods who also started out as generals, and also to such deities as the god of pestilence.

In fact, temples are everywhere to be seen in Matsu, both in open countryside and jammed between village houses. The architecture of the temples is of the eastern Fujian style, with granite walls and featuring colorful, intricate decorations, in sharp contrast to the plain buildings around them. Squatting in the entrance of a temple on a hillside, looking out across the sea-which shines golden in the light of the setting sun and is dotted with little fishing craft-one feels a strong sense of the endless ebb and flow of history.

Soon the lights of the fishing boats begin to twinkle and you head down towards the harbor, where shops and restaurants packed with fresh seafood await the hungry visitor.

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let’s continue…travel to Matsu !

What gives Matsu its unique flavor is its blend of attractive scenery, a significant military presence, local religion, and fishing communities. Some of the more notable sights are: the Peihai Tunnel, the Iron Fort, the Queen of Heaven Temple and Niuchiao Village (all on Nankan Island); Chinpi Village and Chukuang fishing village (on Peikan); and the “Line of Sky” (a narrow gap between huge rocks), Virgin’s Cliff and the Tungchu Lighthouse (on Tungyin).

The Peihai Tunnel is a typical example of a military installation converted into a tourist attraction. It was built in the late 1960s by the army, using simple hand tools to cut a 700-meter-long quay into the granite wall of a coastal inlet. At the upper end there are large chambers hacked into the rock, which once served as offices and sleeping quarters.

Inside, the passage is pleasantly cool and peaceful. The only sound is the steady drip of water somewhere far off. It’s almost impossible to imagine that this place was once full of people in a state of armed readiness.

Our driver, Mr. Tung, who was provided courtesy of the Matsu Daily News, kept a close eye on the time as we toured the passageway. The water level inside depends on the tide, and if you’re not careful you can get trapped in one of the deeper parts of the tunnel by rising waters.
Not far away from the underground passage is another well-known military feature, the Iron Fort, which sits atop a rocky outcrop. This is where the island’s amphibious units used to be garrisoned. Sentry posts stand either side of the main blockhouse, along with kennels for guard dogs. The structure features sniper slots, gun emplacements, a kitchen and sleeping quarters.

During the 1950s, when military tensions were at their height, PRC frogmen often sneaked up and killed the sentries. Usually they poisoned the dogs first, then slit the throats of the guards. Dozens of men were lost in this way, but the attackers were never able to occupy the fort. Thus it came to be called the Iron Fort.

Nothing of the life-and-death atmosphere of those times lingers. Nowadays, with waves sloshing against the rocks below and seagulls wheeling through the air, it’s more like a scenic lookout. Only when you wander inside, penetrating to the interior of the blockhouse, does the darkness begin to unnerve you. A chill gust blows through, and you may find yourself muttering: “Rest in peace, you spirits of departed heroes!”

A few more steps and you emerge blinking into the white light of day: one scenic location encompassing two distinct worlds.

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Come on…let’s travel to Taiwan Sanjhih Gallery of Famous Sons

The Sanjhih Gallery of Famous Sons - part of Sanjhih Visitors Center - celebrates the lives of four scions of Sanjhih families.

The most famous is, of course, former President Lee Teng-hui. Lee - the first president of Taiwan to have been born on the island - held office from 1988 to 2000, and remains politically active well after his 80th birthday. He was born less than 100 meters from the museum, and educated at universities in Japan, Taiwan, and the United States.

Lu Hsiu-yi was another politican - a dissident and then a member of Taiwan’s parliament until his death in 1998. He studied in France, where he met his wife, a Taiwanese concert pianist who lated headed the central government cultural agency.

Tu Tsung-ming (1893-1986) was another kind of pioneer: The first Taiwanese to qualify as a doctor during the Japanese colonial era, which lasted from 1895 to 1945, he helped develop medical education in Taiwan after World War II.

Chian Wen-ye (1910-1983), a composer of international renown, in fact spent most of his life in mainland China. However, many of his compositions - such “Song of Alishan” - drew on his Taiwanese background.

Another part of the Visitors Center explains in some depth the history of the Sanjhih area, from the arrival of the Ketagalan people (who inhabited North Taiwan before Han Chinese settlers began to move in in the 1700s), to the develop of the various villages.

The role of religion and the history of some of the area’s most important temples is explained. And there are odd fascinating snippets, such as why one place is called Maosingdian, “dian” meaning store. More than 150 years ago, a man running a shop at that location prospered, but their success caused jealously. One day, a rival dumped a corpse outside the store; this scared off not only the customers, but also the shopkeeper and his family.

The grounds of the Visitors Center have been landscaped, and include an “ecological pool,” an “ecological ditch,” and “wild grassland.”

VISA: No need

Public Transit: No public buses go to this spot, but a chartered taxi could bring you here, and take you to other nearby places, such as the Li Tien-lu puppet museum.

Personal Transit The Visitors Center is located two kilometers inland of Sanjhih Town, beside Bei 11, a road that leads from the downtown into the hills.

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