In fairness, I hadn't given "Girly", our GPS, much of a chance to succeed, punching in a city I had saved which was somewhere near where we wanted to go. It basically just sent us along main roads which were along the shortest distance. This would be fair enough except they were major overhead expressways slicing through the scycrapers of a very crowded innercity on a Sunday morning. Our destination, Shimen Reservoir, was on an offshoot road from the main north south freeway, south of Taipei and after an unexpected, but nevertheless quite thrilling detour, we finally got back on track and arrived at our destination.
On the way in to the reservoir we passed the second flush of rice for the year in enclosed, drowned paddies. The plant is an impossible green, succulent and fresh, stitched into the field tuft by tuft in perfect military lines by bent farmers in pointy straw hats. The countryside quickly becomes bucolic as the highrise satellites of Taipei city fade from view and the people are rough-hewn and unsophisticated. It is quite refreshing actually to remember that all Taiwanese are not as flashy and slick as the ones we deal with on a daily basis!
A street of country market stalls was so Taiwanese, with tiny charcoal grills a bed for spitting, sweet pork sausages being turned and tended by betel nut chewing, wizened men. Bonsai trees were arranged on plastic stools in order of seniority and hand-made clay teapots all pointed their spouts toward the great lake beyond. Miniature electronic game consoles sat in lines each chirping their own pinging song and various "special and delicious foods" were displayed proudly on tiered benches where hawkers offered us little pungent samples which we declined with a smile and a wave. Wow, we were really out in the countryside!
The reservoir itself was quite beautiful and the runoff from the spillway at the bottom frighteningly powerful and impressive. We were able to drive in for a small fee and stop the car at various spots around the lake to take in the views: it was just as well as rather annoying violent rain squalls had a habit of dumping on us at regular intervals, usually when were furthest from the shelter of the car! Down at the dock of the upper reservoir bobbed a line of tourist sightseeing boats and as the gorge looks pretty spectacular, it might be an option for a future trip: they did warn, however, that boat patrons must wear a lifejacket at all times!
The trip home was long but uneventful although we did pause and wonder yet again at the method of entering and leaving the tollgates on the expressway. Most of the length of the freeway there are at least 4 lanes, sometimes 5. When you approach the tollgates, however, the lines to the lanes gradually fade away and you can select a tollgate from about 15 available. Some are for electronic payment, some for ticket and some for cash: imagine the chaos this would cause at an Australian tollgate! The speed limit of 110 km seems to exist right up until about 100 metres from the gates, where people dramatically slow, brandish a ticket (in my case), never stop, but roll through as the attendant snatches it from your hand. As you leave the gate, a free-for-all ensues. You need to accelerate to top speed straight away and grimly hold your line as the 15 gates converge back into the four lanes.....crazy, but somehow, it all works just fine!
Photos: Weetbix promotion at the supermarket, interesting snacks, an electronic Mahjong machine (!), Cass with the full "closet camels" ready for a refill and various shots of our trip to the reservoir. Dave is reading "Supercoach" and Cass is still reading "The Marriage Plot".
