I know. It seems like I’ve been in Tainan for ages, doesn’t it? Well sadly, today was the day that I had to leave my second favourite city in Taiwan. The departure was bittersweet as I had a few potentially exciting visits lined up along the route. The first on my list was a spot in central Tainan; an abandoned, and infamous hospital.
If you ask a native about this place, they will tell you that it’s haunted by the spirits of patients that died here as a result of medical negligence, and that you should absolutely not set foot inside the building. As a keen ghost hunter I decided I’d take the warning with a pinch of salt, and a sprinkle of excitement. Xinglin hospital closed it’s doors in 1993 after the government ordered it to be shut down, due to several high profile corruption and misconduct allegations. When deserted, the owners left almost all of the equipment in the building, including operating tables, filing cabinets, a morgue and scores of hospital beds. For years, it was mainly used as a photographer’s set and graffiti canvas, but as time rolled on, local scrap metal pirates plundered what booty was left and the building became somewhat of an empty shell. However, even though the most distinguishing fixtures were removed, the legend and spirits can’t be taken from here, as long as the structure still stands.
I’ll wager many a schoolboy has pooped his pants in these halls during the last 20 years. The green tiled room at the end on the right was an operating theatre.
I had a rough GPS location to follow, but I could spot the building instantly from the road. Imposing, but spooky, and obviously a long time vacant. Strangely, tied onto the main entrance shutter were some Tibetan prayer flags. Obviously meant as some kind of blessing and protection to the tortured spirits inside, but their function is to spread the message of the prayers, and generally send good vibes via the wind. I’m sure the provider meant well though.
I popped my nose through the railing and realised that wasn’t the way in, so I went for the classic reconnaissance and quickly found my entry point, which involved a little – but probably unnecessary – Bond sneaking. Once inside I adjusted my cuffs and got the camera set up for some pics. The ground floor didn’t hold my interest much, but the X-ray room at least caught my eye. Predictably, no interesting equipment left there.
The other floors were just as bare, except for the odd item. Old office phones, a box of used and unused injection vials, piles of old hospital bed mattresses, a strange setup of IV lines connected to bottles hanging from a ceiling, syringes, blood samples and various other medical trinkets. The floor that I was most interested in was the basement. I recall being warned by Abby not to go down there, due to it being the old morgue, and thus massively haunted. That was like a red rag to a bull, and so was one of my first objectives. Evidently typhoons had made their mark in recent months as the basement was submerged in about a foot of water. I forgot my wellies so decided against venturing down on this visit (not because I’m scared, obviously), however I found out afterwards that there is nothing too intriguing down there, all the good stuff has been long since liberated.
There were also other traces of human presence, but not relating to the healthcare industry. In a couple of the rooms on the higher floor, I saw a number of textbooks and children’s toys strewn over the floor, and various kinds of posters pinned to the wall. It looked like at least one family had been squatting here at one time, but I think it’s unlikely to have been in the past 15 years. One room in particular spooked me somewhat; imagine a row of faded collectible sticker photos of babies stuck to the wall. Actually, no need. Check that out.
What the heck is going on here? Are these like football stickers for child loving adults? Hey. Not that kind. Message me if the above makes any sense to you. Cheers.
More decaying mementos from bygone years. Poor wittle dowgy.
Several of the rooms had private bathrooms with a WC, tiled bath and small cabinet. Some still had old toothbrushes clipped into the doors, handy in case any visitors want a quick freshen up. More good news, there were plenty of bedpans around too, so if you’re caught short, fill your boots. Or something else.
September 1989. This piece of paper is, at the most, three years younger than me. Weird eh? Well, I thought so.
Ghosthunting done, I saddled up and hit the road again. The next stop was the curiously named Tianliao “Moon World”, about 20km East South East of the city as the bird flies. I’d randomly found some photos online before setting off in Taipei, and noted it on my GPS as a place of interest as it wasn’t a million miles away from my most direct route to Kenting. The Western side of Taiwan isn’t exactly famous (to use the country’s favourite English adjective) for its natural beauty, particularly when compared to the East, so a detour through would nicely break up the monotony. It’s an interesting sight, and stark contrast to the flat green land that precedes it to the North. No surprises for guessing that it has a moon-like appearance; dry, crumbling, steep slopes, with little to no vegetation. I drove along a road (which was also crumbling a little) through the valley, which fortunately had about as many humans on it as the moon itself. It’s a pleasant section to pass through and a welcome change of scenery, but the less said about the “Moon World amusement park” the better. Suffice to say I wasn’t amused and left after about 45 seconds.
Pretty cool. Interesting rocky stuff. Interesting Rocky Stuff Super Fun Amusement Park? Nah, you’re alright thanks mate. Take the 高39-1 road near there for views like this, but I wouldn’t bother with ‘Moon World’, unless you’re into that sort of thing.
Next on the agenda was Donggan, just over the Gaoping river slightly East of Kaohsiung City. As I crossed the bridge, in my rear view mirror was possibly the most industrial structure I have ever seen. I’d guess an oil refinery; a sprawling network of pipes, steel and billowing clouds of steam and smoke being pumped into the misty afternoon sky. Perhaps oddly it gave me a hint of nostalgic feeling, reminding me of background graphics from futuristic games on the Sega Megadrive. I didn’t take a picture and now regret it. Sorry.
I had some info to suggest there may be an abandoned church in Donggan. Marking the building on google maps beforehand, I took a bit of a gamble because it was quite a detour and the sun was already tapping his watch. Too much time spent ghost hunting at the hospital meant I had to get a move on if I wanted any chance of seeing the other churches I had marked on the map. I arrived at just after 4pm near to a taxi rank, full of boisterous and scruffy cabbies playing mahjong under the shade of a lone tree; short sleeved shirts half tucked into trousers, teeth blood red from betel nut, and rosy cheeks from too much sunshine, or perhaps frequent extra-curricular alcohol consumption. They looked back and studied me from their game in a way that was more quizzical than welcoming. I don’t blame them, what the hell was I doing there? Oh yeah, looking for an abandoned church. From the amount of attention they paid me, I would safely assume they don’t have many visitors. I left them to survey the outside of my bag strapped to my bike as I recon’d the outside of the church, checking for signs of life. Within a minute I knew that it was still in use. Clean, tidy, and adjacent to a catholic school. Oh, and a board outside advertising the line-ups for the next sermon. A disheartening outcome knowing that I have limited time to make the most of good visibility, for the unseen abandonments and scenic remainder of my journey to Kenting. Hopping back on the bike in front of the pack of observing cabbies I made a beeline for Chaozhou, which host the final three churches on my list.
The first was in central Chaozhou, and on arrival I was greeted by the unfriendly barking of a gangly underfed dog under a shelter on the opposite side of the road. Luckily for me (but not him) he was also attached to a chain, and it appeared that no-one was around to hear his cries, or to care if they did. All it took was a hop over the fence and I was in, ready to explore church no.2. None of the doors worked in the traditional sense, as they had been taken off and probably used as firewood. The building was unspectacular, the only memorable features a few tiny coloured square windows, in a roughly staggered diagonal pattern. Various gardening tools were left in storage, and some old appliances were dumped in the back room. In retrospect, it’s something that I wouldn’t have been too upset about not seeing but the excitement of urban exploration is in not knowing exactly what you’ll find. Sometimes you get a dud, and sometimes you find unexpected treats.
The chained dog woofed his goodbyes as I speedily left the township, eager to get to my last target with some degree of light for photos. I arrived after about 15 minutes of riding, and the vicinity had a genuine local community feel with small, modest houses circling a large asphalt area, which appeared to be primarily used as a playground. Either side of this were two buildings that looked in tatty condition and out of place; I had finally reached the last churches before dark. Just as I spotted them, I noticed a couple of older chaps sitting underneath a tarpaulin shelter, each with a can of beer enjoying a cigarette and their ambling conversation.
I strolled up gingerly and politely asked in broken Mandarin if it was OK for me to take photos of the churches, as I had no idea if it would be considered rude or an invasion of privacy if I just rocked up and snapped away. His response was, as far as I could tell, in local Taiwanese dialect, of which I speak only extremely offensive swear words, along with “hello”, “thanks”, and “beer”. He switched to Mandarin and I think he asked me where I was from, so I told him England. He clearly took a lot of pleasure in hearing this, and decided to exuberantly pinch one of my cheeks and give it a good stretching. Thankfully after his examination, he gestured that I was free to explore and take any photos I wanted. Both buildings were empty, but ere’s what I gone and got.
After displaying my thanks and being on the receiving end of more friendly cheek tugging, I waved to the rest of the old gentlemen and got back on the road with a relaxed attitude and that familiar image of a bed in my mind. Thankfully all I had to do was poodle along South for about 35 miles, making my route as easy as pie. The second half of the remaining journey was – I’m told – the most remote stretch of road in Taiwan. Houses, or indeed any structures were extremely rare, being limited to small shacks near to the roadside of red mango tree plantations. There were acres upon acres of the buggers, which made it very peaceful when nature called. That was without a doubt the most relaxing toilet break in the history of the Earth. Shortly, civilisation started to appear on the horizon, and a few days on a pure diet of Taiwanese food gave me an insatiable hunger for a McBurger. I found one on the way, and fortunately managed to get my order in before a gaggle of Chinese tourists pottered off of their gleaming tour bus to cram their gullets with chicken nuggets. Rain started falling just as I left, so I hastily covered my backpack in my thick tarpaulin and changed into my waterproof Croc’y-sandals in preparation for the potential storm. As luck would have it, I consulted my GPS and realised I was literally (literally literally, not 2017 “literally”) a 2 minute ride from my hostel of choice. It was time for a well deserved McSlumber.
Pepology 