To us five years from now. Remember the 17th-floor bubbles drumming on our skin, a fizzy, foreign rhythm.
Four Fragments of New Taipei We'll Still Be Teasing Each Other About
The Bubble-Bath Bet. We gambled on who could endure the carbonated spring on the 17th floor the longest; the water, with its precise pH of 5.5, felt like a thousand tiny, insistent percussionists drumming against our skin while the New Taipei skyline stretched out below us, fragile and distant in the violet twilight.
The Steam-Fogged Truths. We spent an hour at Tan Shou debating the merits of the signature broth, the thick steam turning our glasses into frosted shields and the scent of carefully simmered local ingredients grounding us even as we argued, laughing, over who had forgotten to cook the beef.
The Camphor-Scented Sprint. The walk to the 965 bus was a gamble against the elements; we trekked through a 79 percent humidity that felt like a warm, damp veil, the sharp, green scent of new camphor leaves filling our lungs as we made a frantic, laughing rush toward the gold of Jiufen.
The Black Silica Weightlessness. There was something absurdly peaceful about lying on the Hokkaido black silica rock baths, feeling the far-infrared heat sink into our lower backs like a slow, radiating pulse that dissolved the city's tension and left us floating in a heavy, warm silence.
When the Memories are Opened Five Years Later
I suspect the meal costs will fade, but the way we collapsed into the minimalist rooms at Jie Shi Bao Jiu Dian, where city views shimmered like fallen stars, will linger. That shared, exhausted peace—a root cracking through the concrete—is the part that will never leave us.
The city lights blurred into a single gold thread.
- Soak in the 17th-floor carbonated spring at Jie Shi Bao Jiu Dian at sunset.
- Savor the signature broth at Tan Shou to taste the local essence.