Head in the Clouds

The air felt purer three-quarters of the way up Mount Keelung. The wind blew the long, wild grass back and forth aggressively and made its presence known, it had been a while since I’d felt a breeze quite as strong. At that point on the climb up the small mountain, the steep staircase-trail was getting lost into an overcast, grey sky. I felt like I was climbing the real ‘Stairway To Heaven.’ The clouds moved quickly only a few metres in front of where I stood, as if they too were ascending the mountain, only on a perpendicular path. Though the clouds seemed to be racing up much faster than I could. Despite the temperature being a few degrees cooler than it had been in previous weeks, the straight, forty-five degree path up made the climb quite tough. Usually mountains of such a gradient would have more of a serpentine trail, but not in this case. I took a break to drink some water and admire the view over the East China Sea. Arriving in Taiwan’s northern edge only an hour earlier, it was the first time I could see the blue ocean from the island nation.

Typhoon Saola was making its way through Taiwan and, in Taipei earlier that morning, I was forced to decide where I would go next. My original plan to head down the East coast had to be put on hold momentarily, the strongest of the weather system would be felt the further south and east I went. Some locals had recommended staying in Taipei but others seemed to downplay the likely strength of the typhoon. No one was Nostradamus and so no one wanted to give bad advice. I eventually decided to head only an hour away from Taipei to the picturesque town of Juifen. It gave me both the flexibility to head back to Taipei if needed but also a break from the urban hustle.

Juifen was a former mining town, now a popular day trip from Taiwan’s capital. Perched on a mountainside overlooking the sea, the small, colourful buildings making up the town clung to the hillside. Inside, a small maze of laneways zigzagged past noodle shops, woodcraft gift shops, ocarina sellers and wooden tea houses. Large groups of Taiwanese and Filipinos meandered through the covered market street grabbing free samples of fried squid from the shouting vendors.

As the day progressed the forecast for bad weather got pushed out. The day before they said the heavy rain would hit today, today they said it would hit tomorrow. The weather, though, had still changed a bit. It was very overcast and, whilst there was an occasional drizzle or light shower, it was still easily navigable. In fact, when it came to climbing mountains, the weather was much better than I had had for weeks. Sure, I was awash with my own sweat, but that was only because I was making my way straight up a hill. It was the first time since leaving South Korea that I was not sweating as a result of the humble desire to be outside of an air-conditioned room.

The wind howled as I made my way up the final stretch to the peak of Mount Keelung. A small, covered gazebo provided scant shelter at the top. The grey clouds that now surrounded me ran quickly across the sky, shaking the weather measurement equipment at the top of the mountain. I sat down and snacked on some pieces of dried guava and, from a small parting in the clouds, I glanced over the sea below me.