The Stopover

Day 1.5:
Originally composed on Wednesday, April 8, 2012: Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport (TPE), Taipei, Taiwan.

It's a dreary dawn in Taipei. Dry and conditioned inside TPT; separated from the soggy exterior by large window panes. The tempered glass feels warm. Inside it's bright and the orchids are blooming. Two decisively different atmospheres a mere few feet apart.

Only just after 5am and it looks as though the humidity is pushing the thick cloud cover closer towards street level. Now more than 16-hours have passed since takeoff and the notion of leaving seems to be slowly setting in.

Orchids inside TPE

I saunter through the hallways of the terminal to stretch my atrophied limbs and sore back. You could be in any airport terminal in the whole world and the only thing that would change is the language on the signs and the script on the Coca-Cola machine. The smells is eerily similar, the laminate flooring and the moving carpets, all alike--except Taipei. Each individual gate-side waiting area has a unique design and accompanying theme. I sit in the futuristic techno-lounge, with power outlets at the foot of each curved, post-modern plastic seat. There's a jungle themed space with vines, trees and floor-to-ceiling murals. Even a Hello Kitty room, with decals of pink polka dots.

My meandering took me into all the various Duty Free shops where I was waited-on at each browse. I figured, given my carabiner clad backpack and thrifty travel threads, the salespeople would have deciphered that I wasn't the ideal candidate to purchase a $5,000 Cartier watch. It's more if a cultural thing, I know (or simply just good courteous business practice), but I did feel a bit bad that these pretty, immaculately made-up Taiwanese women were following me around the stores constantly asking me if I wanted help--or much more uncomfortably, just standing silently at my side. Maybe they took me for a thief?

Despite my 4am in-flight congee breakfast (baby shrimp, bonito fish flakes, cold tofu and all!) I stumbled upon something I should have anticipated, and would have welcomed at any level of hunger--airport dim sum! I am not a man of great temptation (now looking back at this piece of writing five months later I might be inclined to revise that statement with a more circumstantial preposition), but if there's one thing I can't resist, it's dumplings in the morning. While I opted out of the shitty looking shu maii, A $9 USD serving of xiao long bao, accompanied by a soothing bowl of chicken consommé with black oyster mushroom and pieces of moist boiled chicken later, and I find myself back on the airplane. Unexpectedly, I'm lounging in the luxury of an extra-wide, executive coach seat. My feet are propped up comfortably on the extended ottoman and I'm on the final leg of my one-way ticket to the trip of a lifetime.

I wonder what's for breakfast #2?

Notice the man in the Taipei airport sporting golf shoes! Maybe I missed the golf theme lounge?

Lost In Translation

Originally composed: March 4, 2011 (~2:00pm @ 30,000 feet)


My first case of Asian food envy came quickly, along with a minor and mediocre language struggle. 


For my first meal on the airplane I was offered the following, somewhat inaudible options: "Bibimbap, meat...beef?" While there should have been no hesitation nor drastic confusion, I attempted to question whether the Bibimbap also contained beef; somewaht of a logical question for a guy who'se only experience with the dish came many years prior, and who had now inconveniently forgotten that said dish was almost always of vegetarian nature. 


The bop was clearly the better choice...as going local always is, not to mention that you are NEVER to choose any option referred to simply by a broad category of "meat". Nevertheless, I chose the beef. My decision was more than just a slip in better judgement but a succession of effort on my part to try and get the answer I was looking for from the flight attendant. After several misinterpreted lines of questioning, mixed with my desire to not waste any more of her valuable time, I caved. Accepting the mystery dish from her already outstretched arm I knew just what was in store: instant food envy of the girl sitting next to me and all the other Bibimbapians on the airplane. 


Lesson Learned #1:
Be persistent in one's quest for the truth that one is seeking...or at least accept the embarrassment of changing one's mind before peeling back the foil to sure culinary disappointment.


Lesson Learned #2:
Airplanes are loud and are not the most conducive environment to break the language barrier.

(Actual photo not included)