November 8, 2025

Today, another excursion to the north is in order, but this time to Jinshan and the Buddhist monasteries in the hills above town. The journey will be familiar, given that I undertook the same one yesterday, although only went as far as Yehliu.

The trip to Yehliu is straightforward, certainly not inducing the anxiety that it did yesterday, and the portion to Jinshan is not far beyond. The dramatic mountains between Keelung and Yehliu are more visible today as I have a seat on the bus and hence a better view. But past the familiar world of Yehliu, the coastal panorama is similar to what I witnessed yesterday, and while the beach lining the bay isn’t particularly attractive, given its muddied, littered state, the sight of the sand, the water, and the hills that frame the coast illuminated in the shifting light of the north coastal afternoon is dramatic. The road continues inland into the sprawl of the relatively large burg of Jinshan, where I would like to explore the old town, then continue to the Buddhist monastery in the hills above town.

The primary attraction of Jinshan is the Jinbaoli Old Street, which I had taken to be a street with a collection of traditional houses, but in fact turns out to be a street with stands selling snacks, fast foods, and souvenirs to a seething melee of people, although happily almost all local. It is Saturday and the Taiwanese are out in full force; the stands offering a wide range of edible delights are not just quality but also affordable, an authentic experience in stark contrast with similar environments that cater primarily to tourists, with food products that are often equally useless, pretentious, and overpriced.

There is so much selection, so many tasty offerings that I am left unable to make any kind of choice, although don’t hold back from taking photos, as it is such a lively people environment. So much catches my eyes here, colourful, ornate glass figurines, shoes, T-shirts, wallets, purses, and bags made from fabrics with traditional Chinese patterns, not to forget that essential vendor whose services locals cherish so much, the lottery ticket seller.

Vendors sell fresh produce, including peppers, burdock, green beans, lemon grass, and ginger, in addition to meals artfully prepared with pork or tofu, plates laid out with deep-fried fish and shellfish, eggs cooked in soy, homemade ice cream, a wide variety of bread products and pastries, boiled cobb corn, grilled sausages, dried seafoods and seafood byproducts, usually the bane of public markets, such as the tourist market at the Yehliu geopark I walked through yesterday, teas, bagged nuts, snack mixes, and sweet/savory snacks that are so popular in the country — and so very tasty! My problem with much of the wide variety of snacks is the quality — they are so good that I find it very hard to resist eating as much as possible in a single sitting!

There are also the mandatory games that allow parents to create memorable experiences for their children — it’s heartwarming to see how people are fully engaged with their children at all times. As an aside, Taiwanese are very decorous and respectful in public, which I imagine would not be the case in the PRC.

I had wanted to visited the Dharma Drum Mountain World Center for Buddhist Education in the hills above town but the bus service is very infrequent, effectively useless unless I pay careful attention to the few buses that will be still be returning to the main highway. I don’t think the effort will really be worth it at this point, other than the presumably spectacular views available from the higher elevations. But what about the Shitoushan Park that lies along the waterfront of Jinshan? Surely it must offer something worth discovering. To reach it, I need only take the road from the market, then continue towards the sea.

A quick cheeseburger at the McDonalds — in all seriousness, it is quick, inexpensive, includes some protein, and is easy to eat while walking. While I am on my way, I see that the market is still in full action, but the crowds seem to be petering out. The environment around me morphs into a somewhat run-down residential compound overgrown with diverse vegetation. The hot springs composed of a series of elegant pools next to a period villa certainly sets a romantic tone for the environment. A languid river runs along verdant embankments into the sea, the frothing surf visible in the distance, the horizon framed by the deep blue shades of the dusking hills.

As the light falls around me, the soaring escarpment of the Yehliu geopark to the south brightens with a golden hue. The riverside park culminates at a parking area and concrete jetties jutting out from the waterfront promenade, individual men and in some cases entire families seated along the waterfront with outstretched fishing poles. At the far end, locals cluster onto a viewing platform and descend onto the exposed rock shelving to take selfies or perhaps hike deeper into the park.

I sit on the platform, absorbed by the sight of the sea. Looking at the map, I realize that I have only visited the waterfront portion of the park, while the bulk of its area is in the forest-enshrouded hillsides above. But now it is too late to venture uphill — I need to walk back to the main road, then probably just return to Keelung.

Arriving at the bus stop on the main road, I see on the electronic display that there is still a 20 minute wait for the 790. Other buses are listed as well, including those no longer in service for the day, which is quite useful. Even though it isn’t 6 pm yet, the 1815A — that services the Dharma Drum Mountain World Center for Buddhist Education Center — is already discontinued. Well, that will be one Buddhist temple I didn’t see, but traveling to the temple would simply put me at too much risk of not getting back to Keelung, given the infrequent bus service.

For now, it occurs to me that I could find a better and less expensive eating option than in Keelung, but beyond a grocery store to stock up on some necessities, there are only a few relatively expensive Japanese and Korean eateries, not what I am looking for. So back to the bus stop, where the next 790 bus has continuous lateral bench seats, creating ample seating for passengers. In another words, I can make myself comfortable on the long journey back to Keelung …

Back in Keelung, I am resigned to walking back to the night market, although along the primary road running eastward toward the market there are a number of other options. Japanese and Korean are out, as I want to focus on local food. Restaurants whose menus I can’t read are out, international fast food chains are out (KFC) — and that leaves precisely no other options. The crowds in the market are overwhelming, and that most likely because it is Saturday, the same reason the Jinshan market was so crowded.

I can barely move in this dense crowd, although the energy of the place is pretty incredible, and makes me think of the recurrent theme of East Asia, which is all about food — no matter what your circumstances are in life, food is central. Although it doesn’t elude me that many people in Taiwan are not doing that well financially, considering the often very elderly, stooped locals still working, pushing carts, and so on, a degree of physical sacrifice that would hardly be considered acceptable in other developed countries, and certainly not something you would see in Japan or South Korea. There is no question of getting a seat at any of the eateries, although the same dilemma arises as before, where the only places that I would consider eating have no tables or are packed with people.

I may as well return to the Siong Sian seafood place I ate at on my first evening in Keelung, and the decision doesn’t disappoint; while the food may be slightly more expensive, it is very high quality, fresh, and includes seafood that is far more costly than the grease and starch flogged otherwise in the market. This evening’s choices don’t disappoint, the clams stewed in soy, ginger, chopped red cayenne, Thai basil, white onion juliennes, and bitter melon leaves utterly sublime, delicate, fragrant, and subtle, the accompanying water spinach preparation in soy and garlic also delicate and rich in flavour, and lastly the fried rice with diced vegetables subtle and flavourful, all of the foods prepared with a high degree of quality.

The staff mills around the establishment in a frenzied state, although they evidently don’t just deliver the food to the tables with military precision, but the preparation of virtually everything here is obviously impeccable. I am too consumed with enthusiasm about the place to remember the bag of snacks I purchased in Jinshan earlier on — oh well, I will be forced to return tomorrow and try and recuperate my goodies, although there is a vague possibility that the market may not be open.

Upon departing, I find the streets of central Keelung busier than usual, with crowds of people of all ages, although there are only so many places to go in town. As I settle into another evening at the hotel, jackhammering begins on the bridge below my window. At 10:30 at night?