fancy a cuppa?

Quick update on the new job in Japan: forms have arrived at the Tokyo office, and new ones now need to be sent. It is a slow-going process. I'm going to do my best to make sure I keep things moving on my end!

In the mean time, I have grown so bored and lethargic that I have taken a part-time job at a local second-hand clothing store, which will fill my hours with much-needed activity, and fill my pockets with much-welcomed extra cash.

But that's not what I'm here to talk about. I'm here to talk about how much I miss Taiwan, and what that has inspired me to do.

There's a tea website called Adagio Teas that I've discovered recently. The teas are loose-leaf, they come in a wide variety, and are quite good. They're also wonderfully cheap for loose-leaf teas.

One of the best things you can do on Adagio is create your own blends for others to discover and buy. You don't make money off it, but the activity itself is massively fun; you can even customize artwork for your tea if you're feeling extra creative.

Because I love Taiwan, and because I took so many brilliant pictures while I was there, I decided to create an entire line of customized blends inspired by places and things I loved in Taiwan. So if you like tea, or just want to see how else Taiwan has inspired me, take a look at the blends! All the art for the teas use pictures I personally took in Taiwan.

Jiufen
Ximen
Danshui
Da'an
Da'an at Night
Street Market in Summer
Maokong
Xinzhuang
Mango & Strawberry Ice

It continues to surprise me how much I do miss Taiwan. I don't remember the bad times, the "growing pains" of adjusting to a new country, climate, and culture. I remember the things I loved tremendously, like the efficiency of the MRT system, the mini-worlds of the night markets, the glorious color and extravagance of the fashion, the sweetness of the fruit, the cool refreshment of juices and teas, and the tomato rice at the restaurant by my apartment in Xinzhuang. I remember how much I loved the constant movement, the hum of human activity, the scooters overflowing the streets like schools of fish. I remember bike rides along the river, and nights spent in restaurants with friends. I remember discovering hotpot. I remember going shrimping. I remember the wonderful people who made Taiwan a home to me.

The one thing I hope for myself when I go to Japan is that I'll discover the same love for Japan as I found in Taiwan. I hope that once I move in, get used to my classes, adjust to the climate and the culture and re-orient myself to Japanese instead of English, I'll feel like Japan is a third home.

I know that the United States will always be my first home, and that I'll always love the food, climate, and culture here best simply because it is the most familiar and reminds me of family and childhood. But I want to find new homes everywhere, new foods to call "comfort foods", new occasions to look forward to, and new places that are familiar because of happy memories. I want to make Japan another place where all its corners are filled with memories of life, memories I call up with fondness and love.

Updates: The Journey in Asia Continues

Hey peeps!

Ever since I came back from Asia, this blog has been dead. Mostly that's because there's very little to talk about when your occupation is "unemployed" and your location is "my house, I've Lived Here All My Life, USA." I've spent most of my time re-learning how to be American and searching for jobs in Japan.

And finally, finally, all that hard work has paid off.

I have secured myself one (1) job with an ALT company in Japan. I have no idea where I'll be in Japan, what school I'll be at, or what grades I'll be teaching. However, this does not matter. Not at all. Not even a little bit.

Because finally, after two years of working toward this and many years of imagining and dreaming (and being quite sure it would never actually happen), I am going to Japan.

MARCH 2014! (As long as my VISA and and Eligibility Application all go through, so, cross your fingers for me on that, please.)

In the mean time, I'm working on getting a job here so I'll a) have something to do for the next five months and b) be making money.

JAPAN JAPAN JAPAN JAPAN JAPAN

moving, returning, and life goals

I fly out of Taoyuan International Airport tomorrow, on a trip that will take me to China, Los Angeles, Chicago, and finally Columbus, Ohio.

I cannot believe it's been a year.

Packing is annoying. There's always more that you want to take than you think you even have, and once you start trying to put it all into a suitcase, the difference between "stuff" and "available space" quickly becomes apparent. You also begin to realize how many things you have left to do; things you need to throw away, things you need to donate, things you need to recycle, things you need to give away to people. You stare at the mess your bed and floor have become and wonder how you'll ever excavate anything but frustration and tears out of it.

I think I'm about 50 or 60% finished. I've resigned myself to the fact that I'll have to pay an overweight fee on my suitcase again; that's just how it goes. I still have to buy a guitar case for the guitar I still barely play. (I WILL PLAY IT, though. I will.) I have to go to the post office and pack some things up to ship, because they won't fit in my suitcase and they're too heavy, anyway. (Dress jackets and books.) Once my laundry dries, I have to pack that up, too.

A friend is arriving in two hours to pick up my mattress, so once that's out I have to put my bed back together. (I took the frame off six months ago, my bed is just two stacked mattresses.)

I'm writing this mostly for myself, to calm myself down and remember everything I have to do, and reassure myself that I will get it done. I've gotten more complicated things than this finished before, although probably not so many little things at ONCE. I'm mostly worried that my landlady will show up tomorrow and tell me I can't leave certain things here, like my space heater or the oven that NO ONE who emailed me has bothered to set a time to pick up. Also some blankets and pillows. I really hope it's okay I leave these things because I have nothing else to do with them.

What helps me deal with the thought of leaving what's been my home for a year is realizing that this doesn't have to be my last time in Taiwan. I can come back to Taipei, return to Ximen, stroll through Shida's night market again, travel with Taipei MRT and the bus system in the future. I don't have to be finished here if I don't want to be.

I have a lot of thing I intend to accomplish in my life. One is "learn to play an instrument" (hence my clinging to the guitar), and another is "learn a foreign language" (my chosen one is Japanese). "Move to Japan" is forthcoming, I hope, and "cover my passport book with stamps" is well on its way.

"Be confident in myself" is an achievement I consider unlocked, as is "be proud of myself." These things I was never able to say with much conviction; there was always a bit of a question mark after it, like, "I'm proud of myself, I guess?" or "I'm confident, maybe?"

Now, the difference is that I know I'm capable. I've done things that I'm damn proud of, things that no one can take away from me. I'm confident about who I am, about what like, about what I enjoy and what makes me happy. I'm okay, for once in my life, if "me" isn't what people want or expect. I'm okay with my mistakes, genuinely proud of what I've done and what I do, and even though I have lingering doubts and anxieties, I no longer think for a moment that they define me or will hold me back. They're no longer bigger than the part of me that knows I can do this.

Coming to Taiwan was, for me, a last-ditch effort to not be scared anymore. To not fear my future. I had looked at my life, had looked at where I'd been and where I was headed and I knew I'd die unsatisfied with my life if something didn't drastically change. I changed it. I made the change, and I am happier and better and freer for it, and although it won't be the last thing I do (if anything, it's the first) it has filled me up with a joy and hope for my life I never quite had before. I had dreams, I had mad hopes, and I had a fiery belief that somehow, I could have that life that I wanted, but I never knew if I ever would.

This year, I did.

Now let's get me home, feed me some food, hug me a lot, and then ship me off to Japan!

kids

Kids. I have definitely gone a 180 on how comfortable I feel around kids.

I've always sort of known that I liked kids, but they freaked me out because I had so little experience interacting with them. What's nice about my job is that I've basically gotten a crash-course in interacting with children of all ages, and even though these kids are from the other side of the planet, I'm pretty sure the fundamentals are the same.

Basically the best students ever.

What has pleasantly surprised me is that I enjoy interacting with kids. Where I used to be unsure of myself around them before, the more time I spend teaching my own kids, the more I find myself actively engaging any kids who display interest in interacting with me. If they're staring at me on the elevator, I smile at them. If they try to talk to me, I talk to them. If they seem unsure, I smile and let them come over if they want, or not.

Liz is active and engaging on her own, and does not require encouragement.

Last week a little girl (couldn't be more than 5 years old, if that) at Starbucks stood a few feet back from my chair looking at me messing on my iPod. I pulled up the game Fruit Ninja and offered it to her to play. Her parents were like, "Yeah, go ahead, it's okay," so she messed with my iPod a bit and tried to talk to me. I used what little Chinese I knew, but I'd say English too, and the look on her face when I used English was hilarious; it was like I'd suddenly started making duck noises. We made faces at each other and established I was "meiguo ren," an American. The whole interaction was short, but it made me completely happy.

I like being a "good foreigner experience" for kids. Or even just a "good stranger experience," because you have to be careful of strange people, but you also can't go through life mistrusting everyone. I think it's good for kids to have pleasant interactions with unknown adults, so they don't view the world as a menacing, hurtful place. I think it's important to encourage a child's sense of discovery and curiosity. I see kids as works-in-progress. We're all works-in-progress, continuously evolving and upgrading, but kids much more so. Part of me has a blast being even a small part in a kid's adventure in growing up.

One thing I've learned from these kids is how important it is to listen to them. Everyone says it; it's practically common knowledge, and yet you really can forget how important it is to take the time to let them really, truly express themselves. Because they won't leave you guessing. They spend a lot of time taking things in, and because of that, they have plenty to tell you.

I explained the definition of "awesome" and gave them five minutes to write examples.

They had a few ideas.

The one thing I always try to do around my kids is assume they have something to teach me. They never stop impressing me with their insight, their humor, and their very strong senses of self.

I'm going to miss my kids. I've had wonderful experiences with them and they have definitely taught me a lot more than I've taught them. I hope their new teacher at Shane gives them the respect and dignity they deserve, and readily acknowledges how awesome they are. Without these kids, I wouldn't have realized how much I enjoy teaching, and I wouldn't feel so confident going into a new teaching job (when I get it) in Japan.

Taipei 101

At long last, I have conquered the imposing edifice that is Taipei 101! It is a building of height and beauty, and can be seen towering over the city from many places in Taiwan. It is the third tallest building in the world, and it is designed to look like bamboo.

Months ago, I had known that we would have the Wednesday of June 12th off--it was a public holiday for Dragon Boat Festival. I had asked my boss for two additional days off, the Saturday and Monday before it, so between those days, Dragon Boat Festival day, and my usual Tuesday and Sunday off, I ended up with five straight days of freedom.

Because I am a genius.

Knowing that I would be leaving Taiwan soon, I planned ahead of time to see some things during that week. Taipei 101 was high on the list, and my co-worker Nicole volunteered to go with me. We had a fantastic time. Nicole is great company, and we took all kinds of funny/cute pictures during the day.

Taipei 101 has, as its name implies, one hundred and one floors. It costs 500 kuai (about USD $16) to go to the top, which is actually quite a lot considering how much many other things don't cost. Nicole also said she remembered when she first went up, years ago, and it had cost hundreds less.

You aren't actually allowed to go to the top floor. The elevator (which had an overhead light show of constellations and starlight) takes its passengers up to the 89th floor, which has a 360 degree walk-around indoor observatory area. There wasn't much to do aside from check out the view or buy expensive food/souvenirs, so Nicole and I mostly looked out the windows and took pictures.

One thing we had both definitely wanted to see was the giant "ball," or damper, a stabilized weight that helps Taipei 101 keep its balance during inclimate weather and earthquakes. It was very impressive.

Eventually we discovered a staircase that let us go higher or lower. We went higher (two floors) and found an outdoor observation area. There were a lot of foreigners there. The area was small, but the view (what you could see if it, they were careful to make sure no one could fall off or jump through) was spectacular.

That done, we waited around the last few minutes for night to fall, and took pictures of the city in the dark. Even though the lights are artificial, there's something magical about the millions of signs and car headlights blinking in a city at night. I spent a lot of time trying to drink it all in, because I'm really getting down to the bare bones of time that I have left to really see Taipei.

When we'd seen all we had wanted, Nicole and I returned to Earth. We took the MRT to Taipei Main Station and found a food court to have dinner in. We chatted about everything and nothing. Nicole is one of the special people I've met here that I'm really going to miss.

One of my absolute favorite things about going new places is finding out how similar people are no matter where you go. Regardless of the language we were grew up speaking or the foods we're familiar with, or the cultural ideologies of where we grew up, our core selves are very much the same. We dream, we strive, we hurt, and we carry on. How anyone could ever believe that they would not find someone they identified with outside the social group they were born into is beyond me.

After dinner, Nicole took the railroad train home, and I took the MRT. Taipei 101 was more of a tourist-y interest than anything else, but everything is more special when you share it with friends. It was an excellent day.

studying chinese: you can tell

You can tell you've been studying Chinese if:

• You see an accent over a letter and read it as a tone, not a change in pronunciation or emphasis.
• You begin to realize how many MRT station names you've been saying wrong for the past year.
• You notice when something isn't in Hanyou Pinyin.
• You have a preference for a particular Pinyin writing system. (It's the one you're studying.)
• You catch yourself trying to read the names of stores you're walking past, just because you can.
• You prepare in your head what you're going to say to the cashier, rather than just checking to see if the menu is available somewhere in English.
• You wince at your previous attempts to spell out Chinese words phonetically.

things that actually just happened

I just bought my ticket from Taipei to Columbus Ohio and I'm freaking out about it a little.

'Scuse my cursing but holy shit. I have been in Taiwan for almost a whole year. July 6th will be the one year mark for my time in Taiwan. I remember getting here. I remember dying in the heat, getting sick from waffles, getting blisters from shoes, being overwhelmed by the Chinese everywhere, baffled by all the new systems, assaulted by the culture.

I remember my first days here. I remember the first nightmarket I visited. I remember seeing my apartment for the first time. I remember buying bedsheets and going places with friends while having no idea of where I actually was. I remember being terrified of getting lost. I remember everything being an enormous tornado of new things that I couldn't sort out.

It is the weirdest thing to visit the Guting MRT station area, which is where I stayed and had training for SHANE in my first month. I remember that place when it was confusion central, and to have that memory overlaid with my knowledge of the area now is surreal.

I remember feeling like the year was going on forever. I remember winter being a time of frustration and cold that I thought I'd never get out of. I remember feeling like finishing this year was an unachievable thing, and now it's nearly done.

What will I do when I go back? What will be comforting? What will be shocking? I'm expecting reverse culture-shock but I don't know from what. (Probably all the English everywhere, I've gotten used to Chinese being the background noise.)

I feel like I'm on a rollercoaster that's hurtling toward the end.

I'm going to cry when I leave. I'm going to miss this place so much. I'm going to miss this part of my life so much. I'm going to miss the city and the nightmarkets and the cute cafes crammed together along cute streets. I'm going to miss the people I met here, all the friends I've made. I'm going to miss the city itself. I'm going to miss always having things going on that I don't understand, things that are new and different and challenging to my world.

I haven't yet secured a job in Japan and although I'm certain I will, the fact that I haven't yet still scares me, because I have so loved this thrilling part of my life, and if I cannot get back on this rollercoaster, I will be absolutely miserable. I am not ready to stop travelling. I am not ready to relax. I'm ready to go home, but I am not ready to stay home.

I will be happy to see my friends, and my family. I'm looking forward to buying jeans that fit. I'm looking forward to cooking my meals again, eating foods that have been with me since childhood. I'm looking forward to cleaning out my childhood room, selling or donating or throwing out all the things that I've been without for a year and, quite obviously, have not needed.

I am going to miss Taiwan, so much. I am so glad I came here. I am so glad there wasn't a place for me in Japan yet. I'm so glad I came to a country that, before now, was barely on my radar, and now it has left a permanent mark on me. It means so much to me now.

One month until takeoff. Let the final preparations begin.

biking in danshui

I'm going to miss the seemingly endless biking space in Taiwan. Biking is fun in and of itself, but having long, well-kept biking paths that quite often follow gorgeous scenery is fantastic.

Last weekend my friend Katie and I met up with a friend of hers in Danshui to go biking. It was really hot when we got there--like soak-your-shirt-in-five-minutes hot. It was humid, too. Danshui was packed, with most people buying ice cream or cold drinks and then taking refuge in the shade. I was not a little worried that the combination of heat and exercise would give me heat exhaustion or make me pass out. I'm pretty sure I didn't shut up about this fear for twenty minutes.

Fortunately, Katie's friend (and a friend of his) arrived and distracted me from bemoaning my weak constitution. We rented bikes from a nearby facility, and then waited for Katie's friend's other friend to arrive. This was fine with me, as I'd brought my camera and had plenty to photograph.

Once our group finally numbered five, we set off. Pleasantly, when you're biking you're creating a wind against yourself, so the heat wasn't overwhelming. A lot of other people had had the same biking idea, though, so the streets were flooded with people of all ages. We had to stop multiple times to walk our bikes up small hills or around corners where it was too crowded to keep moving. Eventually we found wide roads that let us go at a decent pace. I have no idea how far we went. Danshui is endless. We passed temples, markets, houses, a bamboo farm, and men building a billboard sign frame from bamboo (badass). We went over bridges and followed rivers and streams. We stopped a few times because although I didn't want to hold us up, I wanted to take pictures, too.

We saw two men fishing at a riverside, and an ocean bird standing by watching them, likely waiting for tidbits. It was hilarious.

Shortly after the moocher bird, we came upon a roadside oasis for bikers, which sold drinks and food. We decided it was as good a time as any to take a rest.

This was about the time we realized it was getting dark, and the only way home was back the way we'd come. Although my legs weren't hurting from all the biking (at all, which was amazing, I was very impressed with my strong little legs!) Katie and I had both been feeling the pain of our hard bike seats for the past hour. I think I could feel my lower pelvis bones bruising the whole way back.

The nice thing about the popularity of bike trails around here is that even after the sun set, we were never without light from street lamps. We only stopped for a breather once, and I ended up with some awesome pictures of the view.

Finally, at long last, we made it back and returned our bikes. The guys went out for dinner at Danshui, while Katie and I opted to have dinner at a location a bit closer to home on the MRT line since it was already a bit late on a Sunday night and we both had work the next day. We went to Sushi Express, a sushi chain restaurant. In each restaurant there's a conveyor belt that goes around a large bar. You sit down at one of the chairs and grab whatever dishes look tasty. Katie and I shared two plates of edamame (a bean that is now possibly my favorite thing ever) and a small plate of bamboo (also one of my new favorite things) in addition to plenty of rice and fish.

I didn't realize how tired I was that night but I slept very soundly. The best part was that I had absolutely no leg paint he next day. None. Usually a hard workout lets itself be known the following day, but I think my legs are strong enough at this point that even a long bike ride doesn't bother them. I hope I can keep walking and biking to stay in shape even after I go back to the States.

I can't believe I'm going home in a month.

hot days and honey toast box

As previously stated, the days in Taiwan are getting hot. A few days ago it hit 91 degrees Fahrenheit, and the humidity was so high it felt hotter. There was no wind. It was a bit like walking through soup. I think I wore myself out just going outside in it.

Fortunately, not all the days are like that. We have some pleasant sunny ones that are hot but not crazy-humid, or they come with a breeze. Today we had a thunderstorm that swept through and took the clouds and thick heat with it.

What I've always loved about summer, and what I love here, too, is that summer means more sunshine. We've had a few days with insanely blue skies, perfectly or almost perfectly clear, and few things convince me of the beauty of Taiwan like its buildings streaked with bright sunshine and stark shadow, with an overhead of sharp blue.

On one of these particular days (not the humidity-soup one), I went to Fuxing to meet up with two friends for lunch. I arrived about an hour early and spent the time wandering, because Fuxing/Dunhua is one of my absolute favorite places. I love the clothes available there, I love the adorable and diverse restaurants there, and I love the little streets full of new surprises.

My friends called me when they arrived, and I went to meet them. I may have spotted them across the street and I may have taken creepy spy pictures.

Maybe.

Once I was with them and no longer playing paparazzi, we went to SOGO, and enormous department store that towers over much of Fuxing. The restaurant was inside, it was called Perfume Dance, and its main attraction was the dessert Honey Toast Box. Funnily enough, someone I met in my first month of Taiwan had told me about it, and I'd always meant to go but I'd never found it or gotten around to looking. Clearly, fate wishes for me to tie off any loose ends before I leave Taiwan.

We ordered a fruity drink and a dish that I think was noodles or potato but I honestly didn't pay attention because I was so hungry that I'd have eaten anything put in front of me.

We scarfed the food. Then came... the Honey Toast Box. Which was not much of a box but there was toast and ice cream and chocolate and--

Katie called it "Honey Toast Jenga." It did not last long.

hot days coming

We've been getting hotter and hotter days lately. Summer is upon us.

On Friday we had a spectacularly bright, clear day, one that made going to work feel criminal. Fortunately today, Sunday, was similarly bright and sunny, and although the heat and humidity were strong, it hasn't been unpleasant to walk around.

I quite rightly decided that a day like this called for watermelon.

Fruit here is very cheap, and plentiful. The market by my apartment has at least six stores that sell a variety of  whole fruit, and there are little stands everywhere selling fruit juice, which is usually just a glass of pureed fruit. (Uncomplicated and refreshing.) I will miss the fruit here so much when I leave. It's just so good. I have yet to actually eat bad watermelon. It's all crisp, juicy to the point of leaking, and every bite is perfectly sweet. For 50 kuai, about $1.50, you can get a big bag of fruit chunks and some little pointy sticks to eat it with. Believe me when I say this is heaven.

Today I also tried coconut water, fresh from the coconut. A vendor will lop off the top of a whole coconut (still in the green covering) and then carefully hack open a slit so he or she can pour the water inside into a bag. You get a straw to pierce the bag with, and have a nutritious drink. I've been told that coconut water is full of nutrients that are good for warding off heat exhaustion and dehydration.

Currently I'm hiding from the heat in a little cafe called "Pickles," by Fuxing MRT station. I just ate a cheese burger that oozed cheese and was liberal with the pickles. Absolutely delicious.

being "white"

This evening I was complimented on my white skin by the girl at the nearby convenience store. Hers wasn't the first compliment, either. People around here value pale skin, and due to my natural pink-ish coloring and the lack of sunlight during winter, I've gotten quite pale.

Now, in years past I always thought of myself as pasty. Pale wasn't something I wanted to be. But here in Taiwan, having pale skin is considered beautiful. People walk around with umbrellas to protect their skin and wear more covering than they need to in warmer weather. There are creams in the cosmetic stores that are for "whitening" as much as "anti-aging". When my photo was taken for my ARC (which I will never show anyone because it's actually hideous), not only were my blemishes cleaned up, they whitened my skin.

I'm not one to say "no" to Vitamin D. I love being out in the sun. But it's refreshing to see my pale skin as desirable, as opposed to something that needs to be fixed. I worked as a lifeguard at a water park for two summers and I remember, vividly, a young college-aged coworker saying, "Yeah, after I get my base coat [tan], I just stop using sunscreen."

Me, I was always in SPF 50 twice a day. I got dark as toast none-the-less, because I was spending nearly 8 straight hours in the sun, five days a week, all summer. But when I quit that job, I didn't get super tan, not without a lot of work (I hate tanning, it's hot and boring) and tan lines were a pain in the butt.

I will not say that the perspective of "pale skin as beautiful" is 100% healthy, because there's a lot of pressure on women here to be super-pale, when for many of them their natural (gorgeous) skin tone isn't going to allow that. It's the same as someone with very pale skin who burns easily spending insane time trying to get a tan that may not look right, or may be unhealthy for them.

My point is that Taiwan is teaching me, personally, to appreciate my natural skin-tone. Because here is a culture that values what I have, and sees it as valuable, instead of something that needs work. It makes me feel less pressured to get tan, and instead feel that protecting my skin and keeping it healthy is a good thing to do. I'm not saying that no one should try to get a tan, or protect their skin from the sun to keep it light if that's what they want (it's your body, after all, you're going to do with it whatever you want) but that valuing yourself for what you are is really important. Beauty is very, very culturally-based, and the standards are often too dramatic or specific for everyone to achieve, anyway.

What's vital is that you remember that, and don't base your beauty off what's considered "hot" or "not" by where you are. Hell, you shouldn't base your idea of beauty off of anyone except yourself.

i climbed a mountain

I climbed a mountain and it may be the last one I ever climb.

Let's be clear: by "climb a mountain" I mean "walk up a million narrow stone steps." Really steep staircases, is what I'm saying. They twist and turn, some are lined with ropes, and the steps vary in thickness and actual similarity to steps.

I went on this field trip (which was actually a lot of fun, except for the stairs) with my Chinese tutor and some of her other students. We met at Yongning MRT station at 3:30 and walked to the foot of the mountain. The first portion of the climb was easy, as it was on a paved road. This street lead up to a large Buddhist temple, which was absolutely gorgeous.

After the temple, we left the road and began the hike up the steps.

I am not out of shape. Just that morning I'd gone to the gym, where I had biked AND jogged for a solid hour. My legs are not noodles. But apparently, when faced with anything slightly uphill, they are. Every ten steps made me out of breath. It was frustrating, because if we'd been walking on a flat surface or biking I'd have been like, "Yeah, keep going, I'm not close to tired, let's go!"

Gravity is my kryptonite  is what I'm saying. I think all those years in the pool, in weightlessness, has made me unable to cope with gravity on its own terms.

Fortunately, there was another member of the group who found gravity equally difficult to cope with, so she and I opted to lag behind and make our way to the top on our own terms (which involved a lot of stopping for rest). We were also both interested in taking lots of pictures, though, so we used our stops to catch our breath and take photos of whatever was around.

At long last we finally made it to the peak, from which you could see everything. You could literally see a mountain in Dansui, which is on the other side of the city. Really far away.

I tried to do a panorama and my camera, for some reason, said "LOL how about half of one?" You can see where it cuts off and starts again.

Taipei 101 from really far away.

About five minutes later we had to leave, because it was getting dark, but I'm glad I made the walk up, because the view was totally worth it.

However, the next morning my calf muscles were so tight they felt permanently cramped (they still feel that way today, Tuesday) and for some odd reason I developed a sore throat that has completely eaten away at my voice. Maybe from all the harsh breathing I did in the hot, humid air. Who knows. At least the lack of voice and the need to get well has prompted me to stay in bed and type this out. :)

Until the next adventure!