Taipei

The National Palace Museum is the undisputed guardian of the world’s largest and most priceless collection of Chinese imperial artifacts, a treasure trove spanning over 8,000 years of continuous civilization. Housed in a grand, modernist palace in the hills of Taipei, the museum holds nearly 700,000 objects, from ancient bronze ritual vessels and luminous Song Dynasty landscape paintings to the most famous pieces of carved jade in existence. The ‘Jadeite Cabbage’ and the ‘Meat-shaped Stone’ are the perennial crowd-pleasers, but the true connoisseur will lose themselves in the quiet, scholarly galleries of calligraphy and rare books. It is a place where the weight of history is palpable, and a single visit can only scratch the surface of its profound depth.

Once the world’s tallest building, Taipei 101 remains an icon of modern engineering and cultural fusion, its pagoda-inspired silhouette a defiant statement against the city’s frequent typhoons and earthquakes. Ascending to the 89th-floor observatory in one of the world’s fastest elevators is a thrill in itself, but the true magic lies in the view: Taipei sprawls beneath you, a glittering tapestry of neon and concrete framed by the distant, mist-shrouded mountains. The building’s most famous feature is its massive tuned mass damper, a golden sphere suspended between the 87th and 92nd floors, a marvel of physics that sways to counteract seismic and wind forces. Below, the luxury mall buzzes with high-end brands and gourmet dining, making Taipei 101 not just a viewpoint, but a vertical city where commerce, culture, and cutting-edge design converge.

The Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall is Taiwan’s most pivotal and monumental piece of civic architecture. It stands at the heart of Liberty Square as a gravity-defying declaration of blue and white, its iconic octagonal roof reaching skyward in the style of a traditional Chinese pagoda, ‘opening the sky’ as the architect intended. The interior is a vast, dimly lit auditorium housing the massive, bronze seated statue of Chiang Kai-shek himself. However, the true daily attraction is the changing of the honor guard ceremony on the ground floor—a precise, silent, fifteen-minute display of martial discipline from the nation’s armed forces. It is surrounded by the gorgeous architecture of the National Theater and National Concert Hall, all framed within one of Taipei’s grandest public parks.

Perched precariously on the mountainside overlooking the Pacific Ocean, Jiufen Old Street is a labyrinth of narrow, steep alleyways bathed in the warm, crimson glow of countless red lanterns. Originally a prosperous gold-mining town during the Japanese colonial era, it reinvented itself as a spiritual successor to the village in Hayao Miyazaki’s beloved film ‘Spirited Away’. Yet, its charm runs deeper than any single pop-culture reference. The main thoroughfare, Jishan Road, is a sensory feast: vendors hawk steaming taro balls, savory grass jelly, and fresh-cooked seafood, while the scent of oolong tea wafts from traditional houses. Climbing the countless stone steps reveals tranquil teahouses from which to watch the mist settle over the town’s terraced roofs and the distant coast.

In the labyrinthine alleys of Taipei’s historic Wanhua District, Longshan Temple rises as a beacon of devotion and artistic splendor. Founded in 1738 by Fujianese immigrants, this Taoist-Buddhist sanctuary has survived earthquakes, wars, and bombings—each time rebuilt with even greater intricacy. Its halls are a symphony of craftsmanship: dragon pillars coil toward gilded ceilings, stone lions guard ornate gateways, and the air thrums with the rhythmic clack of divination blocks tossed by supplicants seeking guidance. Dedicated to Guanyin, the Goddess of Mercy, the temple is a living center of folk religion, where incense smoke mingles with whispered prayers and the scent of osmanthus blossoms. At night, lanterns cast a warm glow over the surrounding Bopiliao Historic Block, blending spirituality with street life in a way that captures old Taipei’s soul.

The Yehliu Geopark is a geological theater where the forces of nature have sculpted a surreal coastline of improbable beauty. Stretching out into the East China Sea, the peninsula is a vast open-air sculpture garden defined by the region’s iconic ‘mushroom rocks’. The undisputed star is the ‘Queen’s Head’, a hoodoo formation eroded over millennia into a profile so regal it has become an unofficial emblem of Taiwan. Walking down the well-maintained path toward these formations feels like traversing a silent, stone-age civilization. Alongside the Queen, visitor’s tip their imaginations at the ‘Fairy Shoe’, the ‘Beehive’ rock formations, and the ‘Sea Candles’. It is a site that invites you to slow down, follow the numbered markers, and appreciate the raw, unpredictable power of coastal erosion.

Often hailed as Taiwan’s ‘Little Niagara’, Shifen Waterfall cascades in a broad, horseshoe curtain over a sandstone ledge into a misty emerald pool. The approach is a delight: a flat, shaded boardwalk traces the Keelung River through a gorge, passing the historic Shifen Railway Bridge where trains still rumble overhead. Rainbows dance in the spray on sunny afternoons, and the thunder of the falls provides a constant, soothing roar. It is a scene of raw, accessible power—less a hike than a pilgrimage to a natural altar, perfectly paired with the lantern-lit nostalgia of nearby Shifen Old Street.

A steep but rewarding urban ascent, Elephant Mountain offers the definitive panoramic embrace of Taipei’s glittering basin. The trail climbs through subtropical forest via a series of well-maintained stone steps, opening suddenly onto a series of rocky outcrops that frame Taipei 101 like a jewel in a setting. At dusk, the city’s transition from gold to neon is a spectacle that draws photographers and romantics alike; the ‘Six Giant Rocks’ platform is the iconic perch, but quieter vistas await those willing to scramble a few minutes further along the ridgeline toward Nangang Mountain. It is a workout with a world-class payoff, marrying the pulse of a metropolis with the breath of the hills.

When the sun dips behind the Datun Mountains, Taipei’s largest and most legendary night market awakens in a chorus of sizzling woks, neon glow, and the happy clamor of ten thousand appetites. Shilin is not merely a place to eat — it is a civic ritual, a sprawling labyrinth where the city’s pulse is taken in bites. The historic core, centered around the Yangming Theatre, retains a nostalgic maze of low-ceilinged lanes where vendors have sold the same recipes for generations: pillowy fried chicken cutlets (ji pai) larger than your face, oyster omelets slick with sweet potato starch and coral-red sauce, bowls of lu rou fan (braised pork rice) steaming with soy-scented richness. The modern basement food court, renovated in 2011, imposes order — numbered stalls, communal seating, air conditioning — but the soul remains upstairs, where games of skill (shoot the balloon, hook the duck) tempt with plush prizes and the scent of grilled squid mingles with bubble tea’s cloying perfume. Shilin is chaotic, crowded, and utterly essential — a delicious immersion in Taiwan’s midnight soul.

A silver ribbon plunging eighty metres into a jade pool, Wulai Waterfall is the centrepiece of an Atayal Aboriginal enclave tucked into the mountains of New Taipei City. The cascade fans across a basalt amphitheatre, throwing up a perpetual mist that catches rainbows on sunny afternoons. A glass-fronted observation elevator—shaped like a traditional Atayal watchtower—whisks visitors from the riverside bazaar to a cliff-hugging platform directly opposite the falls, offering a face-to-face encounter with the torrent. Below, the Nanshi River runs gin-clear over smoothed stones, inviting barefoot wading in summer. The surrounding streets hum with the aroma of grilled millet mochi, smoked boar sausage, and bamboo-tube rice, turning a waterfall visit into a full sensory immersion in Taiwan’s indigenous highland culture.