We bet on who would get lost first between the MRT and the lobby. We all failed, circling the block until the autumn wind—crisp and smelling of damp pavement—pushed us toward the entrance. Stepping into Jie Shi Bao Jiu Dian felt less like a check-in and more like a sanctuary where the city's noise simply stopped.
At Tan Shou, the steam from the hotpot blurred our faces into soft shapes. We spent an hour arguing over the best way to dip the meat into the broth. The soup had a deep, slow-simmered richness that made the November chill feel like a distant memory, the warmth settling into our bones.
"You said we were doing a wellness trip," someone remarked, staring at the vegan delicacies at SUN BERNO, then immediately asked for the nearest fried chicken stand. We spent ten minutes roasting each other's commitment to health, laughter echoing against the clean, modern lines of the restaurant.
The 965 bus to Jiufen was a tactical operation, a shared struggle of leaning against each other to avoid falling during the sharp turns. We made a pact that whoever fell first had to pay for the tea; in the end, we all collapsed into a clumsy heap of limbs and laughter.
I think the 17th floor is where the city finally lets go. Floating in the rooftop bath, the carbonated spring water seemed to dissolve the day's tension. Watching the Banqiao skyline shrink into a grid of amber lights, the silence felt shared, a portable home we carried between us.
The room at Jie Shi Bao Jiu Dian held a specific quality of November light, a pale gold that stretched across the crisp linens. I spent a few minutes listening to the echo of my own breath against the white walls, feeling the weight of the day evaporate.
We discovered the black silica rock bath and spent twenty minutes debating whether to lie flat or curl up. Eventually, we decided the most efficient way to relax was to simply stop trying to be efficient. The heat of the stones did the thinking for us.
Home is not a coordinate but the rhythm of people who know exactly how to annoy you and yet are the only ones you want around. As we packed our bags, the room felt larger, as if it had expanded to hold the laughter we left behind.
One pale leaf resting on a white pillow.
- You gotta try the carbonated spring on the 17th floor to reset your brain.
- Grab a hotpot at Tan Shou when the November wind gets too biting.