Day 1: (Taipei to) Fuguei to Keelung

The first day of the trip proper involved unseen ospreys, acid-trip molluscs, severe mechanicals, some excellent streetfood, and Taiwan's northernmost point.



We left Taipei along a series of excellent riverside tracks (pic). Yup, this a cycle track, not a road. Even my most ardent campaigning friends might grudgingly admit this is just about wide enough. (We didn't see it in rush hour though.)



We spotted some ospreys in Danshui – though sadly only photos of them, taken half an hour previously by a group of bird-snappers we chatted to. They had camera lenses the size of bazookas and smiles almost as big. Further up the coast were more pleasant bike paths, now running alongside the sea (pic). Too chilly for skinny-dipping, though.



At last the northernmost point of Taiwan, and the starting point of the End to End route – Fuguei – came into view (pic). It wasn't the lighthouse that caught our eye, or even the giant golfballs of the military radar establishment: it was these quirky painted funnels. Someone clearly had fun using up a leftover batch of paint.



From the map I'd expected there to be nothing here at the wild north cape, a landscape that has inspired poets, artists, and designers of nuclear power stations. In fact there is a small town here right at the top of the country, with a thriving fish market (pic)...

...with some astonishingly colourful molluscs (pic).

I hope this isn't anything to do with the nuclear power station.

We cycled up to the blustery lighthouse (pic), the furthest north you can possibly go in Taiwan, a couple of hours later than expected: as usual, it took me a while to get to the point.



This is the official photo of us at the Start of the End to End. The only one that didn't fail because the howling wind blew over the self-timing camera, anyway. From here it was mostly routine riding along main roads through cloudy, cold weather to our hotel in the vibrant town of Keelung.



However, Tim's bike had been suffering some major mechanicals, with a chain that kept slipping off and jamming. Thanks to some helpful and friendly locals armed with chisels and hammers (pic) we managed to bodge it. As you can see, it takes three people to mend a bike: one to do it, one to help them, and one to stand around saying they're doing it wrong.

It was now dark, but we got to our hotel in time to enjoy some excellent dinner at Miaokou Night Market. I had roast suckling pig wrap cut from a whole roast pig there on the stall counter. It was fabulous. Tim is veggie so he didn't. He had some taro balls. Apparently they were very good too.

Miles today: 59
Miles since northernmost point: 25

Day 0: Taipei riverside ramble

A lovely day of cycling along the Xindian River today, on one of Taipei's many fabulous riverside cycle paths.

First though we dropped in on Longshan Temple (pic), a splendid 'folk temple' that was busy with worshippers praying in the run-up to Chinese New Year next week, with locals getting meticulous horoscopes cast, and cycle bloggers trying not to get in people's way.

It's clear from the chicken figures on display here what it's going to be the year of. It's the Chinese Year of Angry Birds.



Then we joined the Xindian River path (pic). I had to remind myself not to think of it as 'X-Indian'. It was pleasantly packed with all sorts of leisure cyclists, from wobbly child beginners to keen roadies out training. Long rides are possible: this path alone stretches for 80km. Taipei's riverside tracks are wide, smooth, continuous and a delight to use, in much the same way as, say, those in York aren't.



There are various side- and connecting paths, of equal quality. This one (pic) lets you test your cornering skills. Rather like Sustrans routes, which never seem to take you in a straight line either.

The riverside track network is super for families, and there are plenty of facilites along the way: parks, play areas, cheap bike hire, snack opps, and toilets aplenty - some even for dogs, to judge by this (pic). And I'd thought it was only a 'Zero km' sign.

Miles today: 25

Day -1: Museum piece

We're in Taipei for the weekend before setting off on the End to End proper on Monday. Our hire bikes are proving useful for exploring the city that the tourist rarely gets to see, such as the tailors that repaired Tim's trousers and the coin-op that did his laundry.



And, indeed, for the five-mile trip north to the magnificent National Palace Museum today (pic).



The building (pic) houses a tiny selection of the 600,000 treasures of Chinese art stored here going back 6,000 years. It was packed out: clearly people enjoy their culture here. So did I. As well as marvelling at famous works such as the Jade Cabbage, I enjoyed a selection of chicken pictures from across the ages.

This is because next year in the Chinese calendar - starting 1 Feb - is the Year of the Rooster. It's auspicious because in Chinese the word for 'chicken' sounds identical to 'good fortune'. Not if you get it from the takeaway down the road from my house in York it isn't.

In western art history, there's a clear linear stylistic progression that enables us to date a work roughly at a glance. Not so in Chinese art history, where the western viewer like me is bewildered to find it's impossible to tell that the Song Dynasty picture (say 1000 years old) is older than the Qing Dynasty picture (say 150 years old).

This inability to tell very old chickens from more recent chickens may be the problem with the takeaway down the road from my house. Coupled with their failure to distinguish between cabbage and extremely hard mineral samples.



Further confusion to my dating abilities came with this piece of jadework, which apparently shows that, in addition to inventing paper, gunpowder and the civil service, the Chinese invented the CD 1500 years ago.

That chicken/fortune homonym business is common in Chinese art, where puns on the names of things in the picture can spell out a symbolic message. My favourite example from a picture description text was: The combination of gibbons and wasps in Chinese is a homonym for 'ennoblement', connoting the auspicious phrase 'May you be promoted in rank and title'.

When I think of the nearest English equivalent, which involves bulldogs and wasps and aspersions on someone's appearance, I acknowledge that in terms of depth, richness and subtlety, we may lag a little behind in terms of culture.

Anyway, enough exquisite fine art, carved ivory, worked jade and calligraphic grace from across the dynasties. Tim and I set off to find another very rare art: Taiwanese real ale...



We found it, after lots of Googling and a few rides on the excellent, fast, cheap Metro. From left (pic): Sambar Formosa, brewed just outside Taipei (5.5%, mildly hoppy IPA style, notes of orange, pleasant light taste, NTD150 for what was called 'a pint'); Taihu Spiced Ruby Ale, brewed on site in the eponymous US-style brewpub (7.6%, excellent amber ale, full body, notes of cinnamon, nutmeg, raisins and sultanas, NTD250); and finally Scotch Amber Ale brewed onsite at Jolly, a Thai restaurant (?5%, very good full-bodied amber ale, details lacking as my writing is hard to decipher for some reason, NTD288).

Convert these prices into sterling at the current rate of £1=38NTD and you'll see it doesn't come cheap. Welcome to the Kerching Dynasty.

Day -2: Collecting bikes in Taipei

I rendezvoused with Tim here in Taipei last night, and we picked up our hire bikes today from a branch of Giant Cycles at lunchtime. Or, as my body clock thought it was, 4am.

Taipei is a very bike-friendly city. You can cycle on the pavement, and many people do. This seems to cause no friction with pedestrians: it's a courteous culture. There are also widespread cycle lanes (pic), often having priority at junctions, and being largely continuous, wide, consistent, and well-marked. You never have to share the road. Given that the taxi drivers here are as impatient and selfish as anywhere else in the world, that's just as well.

At £100 for a carbon-fibre tourer, complete with panniers, for 15 days, Giant bike hire is excellent value. The only surprise was the lack of mudguards. Clearly it never rains here. In lush, tropical Taiwan...



...where the rivers have wide flood plains and high flood defences (pic). Taiwan has some excellent long-distance cycle routes - which is why we're going to cycle from the north end to the south - so the rivers here have superb well-surfaced cycle tracks.



And lots of toilets, into which you are expressly invited to take your bike (pic).



We should introduce this sort of toilet (pic) into Britain. Well, apart from the squat-pattern khazi.

Actually, thinking about the hostility to cyclists from certain parts of society, the squatting bogs might be more acceptable.



Of course, some riders might think mudguards unnecessary. They don't want a bike that has everything but the kitchen sink. But luggage capacity is paramount for people like me. We do want a bike with everything but the kitchen sink. And the kitchen sink as well, if possible (pic). So this cargo bike we spotted on Dihua St would be ideal for me.



Dihua St is Taiwan's historic shopping thoroughfare, and is at its busiest right now, in the run-up to Chinese New Year. We spent the evening there, among the good-natured crowds (pic).



There's an unimaginable range of food and drink, much of it more colourful than we're used to in the west (pic). I enjoyed some taro milk and sushi, then Tim and I adjourned to a nearby night market for some very tasty Stinky Tofu. That's not a mistranslation. As anyone who inadvertently enters our hostel room tonight will find out. Of course we'll blame Tim's laundry.