With no one in our dorm we sleep in, so a later start than we wanted to go to Sun Moon lake.
For better info on how to get to the lake, have a look at this blog – lazygirlideas
We take the tourist shuttle bus which goes via the HSR station and takes about 2 1/2 hours. The journey drags and I’m wondering if its worth it when we round a bend and see sunlight shimmering off the lake which is surrounded by green mountains. With the blue sky above, it’s nature at its finest and I’m glad we came.
We arrive at shuishe pier where the bus leaves us. It’s a busy tourist village and there are many bike rental shops, restaurants and tea shops. Al is off food but I dive into a leek pancake with egg. The vendor tops it with chilli sauce and its really good. Sweet, savoury and greasy, perfect for breakfast.
We follow one of the walking trails along the lakeside. It’s Saturday morning, so there’s a lot of weekenders enjoying the sunshine and glorious scenery. We read the information boards and learn about trees, plants and birds and drink in the views.
Al isn’t so feisty so I know she’s ill, and we divert from the radiant sunshine to a cafe where I try my first proper bubble tea. I love it! Sweet milky tea and toffee tasting tapioca tadpoles hoovered up through a wide straw. Riding a sugar wave, I get carried away with my travel skills and order tofu with preserved egg and scorched greens. The scorched greens are welcome but the preserved egg is more flavoursome than the last one we tried. This one smells of ammonia too but also tastes of it. I only eat half.
Back in Taichung we wander round the downtown area. We watch a hip hop dance contest then crawl around bakeries. Smitten with bubble tea, I have another.
In our room we have new flatmates. A Taiwanese guy who is going to England to learn English, a guy from Hong Kong who is cycling round Taiwan and two young fellows who don’t speak. We chat to the guy learning English and try to give him advice.
Eventually, everyone goes out and Al feels better so we go for Japanese noodle soup. We get home first, followed by the cyclist who rustles carrier bags till 2am, the English student who quietly does stuff on his laptop till 3am and the quiet couple who come back separately after 2.30am.
Cyclist snores like a vibrating bass drum amplified into a cavenous disused warehouse where the echo resonates loudly enough for seismic activity.
Occasionally, he wakes himself up, rubs his face and starts the rhythm again, like Ravel’s Balero, starting slow and building slowly, adding bass and depth until the wallpaper vibrates.