The “old street” is one of Taiwan’s tourism institutions. Among the most-visited examples are Dihua Street (迪化街) in Taipei’s Dadaocheng (大稻埕) and Sansia Old Street (三峽老街) — also known as Sanjiaoyong Old Street (三角涌老街) but officially Mincyuan Street (民權街) — in New Taipei City. Several others are magnets for day-trippers and shutterbugs.
These streets were bustling commercial thoroughfares during the period of Japanese rule (1895-1945), or even earlier. As centers of gravity shifted within cities and regions, many went into decline. Hukou Old Street (湖口老街), for instance, boomed after the colonial authorities built a railway station at one end of it. However, when the railroad was relocated a few decades after World War II, businesses moved out or withered away.
Without such downturns, there would be few if any old streets. In Taiwan, places which have enjoyed recent prosperity have been extensively rebuilt. Multi-story tile-surfaced eyesores have replaced the appealing two-story shop/house combinations that characterize most old streets.
Photo: Steven Crook
I don’t begrudge anyone renovating their home or trying to make a decent living, but the impact of tourist dollars on these places isn’t always to my liking. I adore unrestored traditional buildings, and I don’t care much for crowds, so I’ve made a point of exploring Taiwan’s less well known old streets. This article is about two, one in the north, the other in the far south. Both are in areas dominated by Hakka people.
FUGANG OLD STREET
Dasi Old Street (大溪老街) is one of the most popular attractions in Taoyuan, and it’s hardly surprising. I’ve been there five or six times, and thoroughly enjoyed each visit. The architecture is gorgeous, and foodies can gorge on dried tofu. However, Fugang Old Street (富岡老街) — in Taoyuan City’s Yangmei District (楊梅區), just over 20km northwest of Dasi — has yet to be rejuvenated by tourists spending money.
Photo: Steven Crook
On a chilly afternoon at the end of winter, I stepped off the train at Fugang. I hadn’t done any proper research, so I had no idea what to expect. I could see from the map that I should walk north along Jhongjheng Road (中正路), then turn right onto Sinyi Street (信義街).
The neighborhood’s most ostentatious building is at numbers 12 to 20 Jhongjheng Road. The Fugang Lu Residence (富岡呂宅), completed in 1929, is the width of five shophouses but otherwise typical of its Baroque-influenced era.
Most of it has two floors, but at the center there’s a dome somewhat like those that adorn many colonial-era public buildings. Unfortunately, the recent cleaning of three-fifths of its exterior hasn’t enhanced the residence’s appearance.
Photo: Steven Crook
Having enough time to venture a bit further from the railway station, I walked north to Jiyi Temple (集義祠), established in 1891 and rebuilt exactly a hundred years later. Next to it, there’s a green space with some sports facilities named in honor of the local land god: It’s called Bogonggang Park (伯公岡公園).
Drifting south, I found Sinyi Street more engaging than Jhongjheng Road, and the buildings far more dilapidated. Some are almost 130 years old, and much of the wood used in their construction has rotted and fallen away. Hardly any of them seemed to house active businesses.
Had it been worth getting off the train? Yes. Will I ever come back? Perhaps not.
Photo: Steven Crook
>>Directions
Every point of interest is within 1km of Fugang Railway Station (富岡火車站), which is served by an average of three southbound local trains per hour. From Taipei, journey time is about an hour and ten minutes; one way fare is NT$81. There’s a YouBike rental point at Bogonggang Park.
FENGTIAN OLD STREET
Photo: Steven Crook
Neipu (內埔) in Pingtung County is a classic slice of rural Taiwan. The township is divided into 23 villages — one being Longcyuan (龍泉), after which Long Chuan Beer (龍泉啤酒) is named. The brewery isn’t in fact in Longcyuan, but some kilometers away in Dongning (東寧).
Another subdivision is called Fengtian (豐田), but only the western side of Fengtian Old Street (豐田老街) lies within the village of Fengtian. The eastern half of the thoroughfare is part of Jhenfeng (振豐村).
I reached Fengtian Old Street near the end of a long bike ride, and immediately noticed that this stretch of Sinjhong Road (新中路) lacks the architectural uniformity that’s a striking feature of some other old streets. Some of the older buildings have just one story, and some are set back from the road.
Photo: Steven Crook
The most eye-catching structure stands at the southern end of the old street, on the corner of Sinjhong Road and Huijhong Road (懷忠路). The former Hongsiangyun Grocery Store (鴻祥雲雜貨店) hasn’t been occupied for a long time, and a fence stops urbexers from getting inside.
Ornate yet decrepit, this two-floor landmark dates from 1924. Parts of the roof have fallen in, yet the eagle at the highest point of the facade remains intact and in place.
Also interesting is the equally old, narrower, but possibly slightly taller shophouse across the road at number 83. A mom-and-pop store operates downstairs.
Photo: Steven Crook
Upstairs, there’s a balcony where the letter “S” appears 30 times in the metal railing. This alludes to the building’s name, Kun Xie Sheng (坤協盛), which appears in Chinese characters high on the front, between two golden lion motifs. Above the Chinese, there’s Latin script reading “Kun Hsia Sheng.”
What the frontispiece lacks in width, it makes up for in ornamentation. Triangles and pinnacles point to the sky. Unfortunately, because of the sun’s position, I wasn’t able to get any good photos on this side of the old street.
I decided to leave the neighborhood via Huijhong Road, where a sign pointed the way to the East Gate of Sinbeishijhuang (新北勢庄東柵門), about 600m away. Back in the mid-18th century, when much of Taiwan was a violent frontier society, the residents of Sinbeishijhuang (the community’s former name) maintained a defensive wall of thorny bamboo.
The barrier was later upgraded to a stone wall. Three entrances were constructed, of which the East Gate is the only one still standing. There are size restrictors on both sides of the gate, so I guess it’s been damaged by vehicles that were too high or too wide — literal collisions of modernity and history.
>>Directions
The nearest bus stop, called Fengtian, is on Highway 1 (台1線), 600m or so from Hongsiangyun Grocery Store. Buses which stop here include the #1773, #1780, #8231, and #8232, all of which can be boarded in Pingtung City. Travel time is typically 30 to 40 minutes.
Steven Crook has been writing about travel, culture, and business in Taiwan since 1996. He is the co-author of A Culinary History of Taipei: Beyond Pork and Ponlai, and author of Taiwan: The Bradt Travel Guide, the third edition of which has just been published.
Last week the government announced that by year’s end Taiwan will have the highest density of anti-ship missiles in the world. Its inventory could exceed 1,400, or enough for the opening two hours of an invasion from the People’s Republic of China (PRC). Snark aside, it sounds impressive. But an important piece is missing. Lost in all the “dialogues” and “debates” and “discussions” whose sole purpose is simply to dawdle and delay is what the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) alternative special defense budget proposal means for the defense of Taiwan. It is a betrayal of both Taiwan and the US. IT’S
March 16 to March 22 Hidden for decades behind junk-filled metal shacks, trees and overgrowth, a small domed structure bearing a Buddhist swastika resurfaced last June in a Taichung alley. It was soon identified as a remnant of the 122-year-old Gokokuzan Taichuu-ji (Taichung Temple, 護國山台中寺), which was thought to have been demolished in the 1980s. In addition, a stone stele dedicated to monk Hoshu Ono, who served as abbot from 1914 to 1930, was discovered in the detritus. The temple was established in 1903 as the local center for the Soto school
Paul Thomas Anderson’s “One Battle After Another” was crowned best picture at the 98th Academy Awards, handing Hollywood’s top honor to a comic, multi-generational American saga of political resistance. The ceremony Sunday, which also saw Michael B. Jordan win best actor and “Sinners” cinematographer Autumn Durald Arkapaw make Oscar history as the first female director of photography to win the award, was a long-in-coming coronation for Anderson, a San Fernando Valley native who made his first short at age 18 and has been one of America’s most lionized filmmakers for decades. Before Sunday, Anderson had never won an Oscar. But “One Battle
In Kaohsiung’s Indigenous People’s Park (原住民主題公園), the dance group Push Hands is training. All its members are from Taiwan’s indigenous community, but their vibe is closer to that of a modern, urban hip-hop posse. MIXING CULTURES “The name Push Hands comes from the idea of pushing away tradition to expand our culture,” says Ljakuon (洪濬嚴), the 44-year-old founder and main teacher of the dance group. This is what makes Push Hands unique: while retaining their Aboriginal roots, and even reconnecting with them, they are adamant about doing something modern. Ljakuon started the group 20 years ago, initially with the sole intention of doing hip-hop dancing.