Taiwan & Palau

Day 1: Memorials, moon blocks, and xiaolongbao

We landed in Taipei just in time for the final days of Lunar New Year — and immediately felt at home. The city is easy to navigate by bus and subway, the food is outstanding, and everyone we met was friendly. It’s almost suspiciously perfect, making us wonder what we’re missing. (Spoiler: nothing. Taipei is genuinely this great.) We covered a lot of ground today, fueled primarily by enthusiasm and soup dumplings.

We started at Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall, built to honor the military leader and long-time president of Taiwan. The complex is massive — clearly no one told the architects to think small. We walked through the park’s gardens to the main building and joined the crowd in front of the giant statue, arriving just in time for the main event: the changing of the guard. Phones emerged from pockets in perfect synchrony. The soldiers marched in impossibly slow motion, spinning their rifles and tossing and catching them with the kind of precision that makes you nervous even though you know they’ve done this thousands of times. The crowd went completely silent — even the kids, which might be the most impressive part. Two new soldiers then took up position on either side of the hall to hold their pose for the next full hour. We can barely hold still for a group photo, so we’re genuinely in awe of this talent.

Next stop: Bangka Lungshan Temple, a beautiful example of Chinese temple architecture and a much-needed lesson in ornate detail. The temple and courtyards were elaborately decorated for Lunar New Year, featuring approximately all the dragons for the year of the dragon. We recognized most of the prayer rituals from our previous travels in Asia, but we were intrigued by people repeatedly dropping a pair of half-moon-shaped wood blocks on the ground. Turns out those are jiaobei (moon blocks) — used to ask the gods yes-or-no questions, with the blocks’ orientation determining the answer. It’s essentially divine multiple choice, though we suspect the gods don’t appreciate that comparison. We watched an adorable young couple demonstrate the technique for us, and briefly considered asking the gods if we should get more soup dumplings. (The answer was obviously yes, divine intervention or not.)

Speaking of soup dumplings, our food highlight was Din Tai Fung, the dim sum chain famous for xiaolongbao (pork soup dumplings). We first got hooked in Beijing in 2007, particularly on the snow crab dumplings, and we were thrilled when they opened a location in Seattle. But eating at the Taipei flagship felt like a pilgrimage to the source — we half-expected to see dumpling monks meditating in the kitchen. We ordered all our old favorites plus several dishes we’d never seen at other locations. The verdict: the Taipei location absolutely wins. The salted egg yolk “lava” buns (which ooze in the most satisfying way) and green squash and shrimp dumplings — neither available in Seattle — were particular standouts. We may have briefly considered extending our layover by a few days just to come back here. We showed remarkable restraint by not doing so.

• Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall
• Bangka Lungshan Temple
• Lunch: Din Tai Fung Xinsheng location
• Hotel: Kimpton Da An Hotel

Day 2: Shaobing, stairs, and seafood

We started with a traditional Taiwanese breakfast at Yong He Soy Milk King, a hole-in-the-wall spot popular with locals — the kind of place where “hole-in-the-wall” is a compliment, not a health code violation. There was a line, which is always a good sign, but it moved quickly. Watching the cooks work in the tiny open-air kitchen was half the fun and possibly a cardiovascular workout just from all the motion. We were the only foreigners and no English was spoken, but they had an English menu (bless them) and we knew exactly what we wanted. Shaobing (flaky oven-roasted flatbread) filled with egg and a Chinese donut, plus sweet soy milk. Everything hit exactly right. We briefly considered coming back every morning, but that seemed excessive.

We spent most of the day on the hiking paths southeast of Taipei, which proved to be an excellent way to justify our breakfast and pre-justify lunch. The trails climb out of the city on steep staircases — and when we say steep, we mean “why are there so many stairs and who decided this was recreational” steep — and soon swap the urban jungle for the actual jungle. Dense forest, occasional clearings with views of the city including Taipei 101, and the kind of quiet that makes you forget you’re still technically within city limits. We’d read that the trails get crowded on weekends; we saw relatively few people, mostly Taiwanese seniors who climbed the endless stairs faster than we did despite being decades older. We’re choosing to interpret this as them being exceptionally fit rather than us being exceptionally out of shape. Both things can be true, but we prefer the first narrative.

After the hike, our legs were questioning our life choices, but our stomachs had other priorities. We headed to Addiction Aquatic, a modern seafood complex featuring a fish market, sushi bar, hot pot place, and several restaurants — essentially a seafood theme park without the rides. This was an excellent tip from our Taiwanese friends Sylvia and Stephanie, who clearly understand us. We ate at the Tando barbecue restaurant, where we got to pick out fresh seafood from the market and the chef grilled it to order. It’s the “build your own adventure” approach to dinner, and we’re big fans. Everything was cooked perfectly, and we ate more than was probably advisable after climbing approximately 47,000 stairs.

Between meals, we’ve been systematically working our way through Taipei’s bakeries — for research purposes, obviously. Taiwanese pastries, French pastries, Portuguese pastéis de nata — we’re leaving no stone unturned and no pastry untasted. We’re calling it important cultural research, though our waistbands may have a different opinion.

• Breakfast: Yong He Soy Milk King
• Hike: Xiangshan Trail
• Lunch: Addiction Aquatic

Day 3: Arrival in Palau — and a pledge

Today we flew from Taiwan to Palau, trading bustling urban energy for tropical island tranquility. It’s a dramatic shift, and it made us wonder if we accidentally fell through a portal. This little-known nation of Pacific islands has a long and complex history: thousands of years of Micronesian culture, followed by a rotation of colonial rulers (Spain, Germany, Japan, then the US, because apparently everyone wanted a turn), before finally achieving independence in 1994. Not exactly a simple backstory.

We were drawn here by Palau’s impressively strong stance on environmental issues — the government has made it clear they want eco-conscious travelers, not cruise ships full of people treating the reef like a petting zoo. We appreciate this approach, even if it means we have to be on our best behavior.

At passport control, something unexpected happened: instead of the usual perfunctory stamp and wave-through, the officer stamped a pledge into our passports. An actual promise to future generations. We had to read it and sign it before entering the country. It was deeply moving — like being asked to sign a contract with the planet itself:

Children of Palau,
I take this pledge
as your guest,
to preserve and protect
your beautiful and unique
island home.

I vow to tread lightly,
act kindly and
explore mindfully.

I shall not take
what is not given.

I shall not harm
what does not harm me.

The only footprints
I shall leave are those
that will wash away.

Not a bad way to enter a country, honestly. Most places just want to know if you’re bringing in fresh fruit; Palau wants to know if you’ll respect their islands. We signed it, and we meant it. Now we’re looking forward to kayaking and snorkeling over the next several days while being hyper-aware of every footprint we leave. No pressure.

• Palau Pledge
• Hotel: Palau Central Hotel

Days 4 and 5: Mangroves, jellyfish, and WWII wrecks

Palau has knocked our socks off — both literally (you don’t snorkel in socks) and figuratively. The landscape alone is worth the trip: hundreds of mushroom-shaped islands covered in dense jungle, all scattered within a protective outer reef. The water is remarkably clear, glowing aquamarine in the shallows like someone’s been playing with the saturation settings, and it’s absolutely teeming with marine life. The country has done serious work preserving its biodiversity — the southern islands are uninhabited and strictly protected, and an impressive 80% of the waters are off-limits for fishing. Suddenly that pledge we signed at the border makes a lot more sense. These aren’t just nice words; they’re actively practicing what they preach.

We spent our first two days kayaking and snorkeling with a small group of like-minded travelers. We paddled through mangroves with baby sharks gliding below us (adorable yet mildly unnerving) and tropical birds and fruit bats swooping above (less unnerving, more majestic). It’s the kind of wildlife lineup that makes you feel like you’re in a nature documentary, except you’re the one doing the paddling and there’s no David Attenborough narrating your mistakes.

We touched stingless jellyfish, which have evolved to lose their sting due to lack of predators — a delightful example of “use it or lose it” evolution in action. We swam over WWII plane and boat wrecks that have transformed from instruments of war into artificial reefs bustling with life. There’s something oddly poetic about swords into plowshares, or in this case, fighter planes into fish condos. And we snorkeled over brightly colored corals and reef fish in every imaginable pattern and hue.

Each time our boat dropped us at a new spot, we had the place entirely to ourselves — pristine wilderness with nobody else for miles. Just us, the guide, and approximately 10,000 fish who couldn’t care less about our presence. Not a bad way to spend a couple of days. We’re starting to understand why people get hooked on this place.

• Kayaking and snorkeling: Paddling Palau

Days 6 through 8: Sharks, stone money, and mud facials

We loved paddling and snorkeling in Palau so much that we decided to throw caution (and our budget) to the wind and charter a private boat for three more days. Finn was our guide and R.D. our captain — both knowledgeable, passionate about marine conservation, and very good at pointing out things we would have otherwise swum right past while staring at the wrong fish. They made sure we had a memorable time, which is code for “they knew all the best spots and we followed them around like eager ducklings.”

Highlights from the past few days:

• Blacktip reef sharks: We snorkeled with more of these than we could count, which raises the philosophical question of whether you should count sharks while swimming among them or just enjoy the moment and try not to think about teeth. They’re not aggressive, but the adults run 4 to 6 feet (1.2 to 1.8 m) — big enough to command respect and remind you that you’re a guest in their neighborhood. They’d look a lot scarier if they didn’t have adorable little golden trevally fish permanently riding their wake like tiny sidekicks, hoping for scraps. Even apex predators need an entourage.

• Einstein’s Coral Garden: Named for the impressive size and quantity of brain corals, which do indeed look uncannily like brains. They come in every imaginable color — apparently nature didn’t get the memo that brains are supposed to be gray and boring. We spent quite a bit of time here trying to find the smartest-looking coral, which is probably not how marine biologists approach this, but we stand by our methodology.

• Giant Clam City: Home to clams with shells nearly 3 feet (1 m) wide — roughly the size of a bathtub, if bathtubs could close on you. Some of these individuals can live more than 100 years, which made us feel very young and very temporary. We tried not to swim too close, having seen enough cartoons to know how this could go wrong.

• Long Lake: We kayaked from the sea through a narrow, winding channel that snaked between dense mangroves into the island’s interior. Picture endless sharp turns where you’re convinced you’re about to hit a dead end, followed by more turns, and then suddenly the trees opened onto a pristine blue lake. It was worth every moment of wondering if we’d taken a wrong turn. We rewarded ourselves with a refreshing swim and tried not to think about how we’d have to paddle all the way back.

• Yap stone money: We got to see examples of the world’s largest currency — huge wheel-shaped discs quarried from Palau calcite and then transported by canoe or bamboo raft 400 km (250 miles) across open ocean to the island of Yap. Think about that for a moment: 400 km across open ocean in a canoe with a giant stone wheel. Suddenly our complaints about lugging carry-on luggage seem embarrassingly petty. Imperfect or broken discs were abandoned on Palau — apparently the stone money equivalent of a damaged bill, except you can’t just take it to a bank for replacement.

• Milky Way: The water here glows a milky aquamarine from fine sediments trapped in the sheltered cove, giving it an otherworldly appearance. The sediments settle on the bottom as silky gray mud that locals swear has rejuvenating properties. Finn’s advice: “Rub this mud all over your skin and you’ll come away 10 years younger.” We tried it, covering ourselves head to toe like enthusiastic mud monsters. The jury’s still out on the 10 years claim — we’ll report back in a decade — but the mud did feel luxuriously smooth. Plus, it’s not often you get to have a spa treatment while floating in the ocean.

• The Fishbowl: Juvenile fish fill the shallow reef, while increasingly larger fish patrol the drop-off along the rim — it’s like an underwater size-sorting system. We snorkeled here for hours, completely losing track of time and nearly ignoring our boat pickup. R.D. had to honk the horn to get our attention, which was both embarrassing and entirely worth it.

Days 9 and 10: Culture

After spending several days living our best aquatic life, we realized we’d learned approximately everything about Palau’s reefs but embarrassingly little about its culture. Time to balance things out with some land-based activities. Also, our skin was starting to look like prunes, which the hotel spa promised to fix.

The massages at our hotel’s spa were exceptional. We emerged feeling like different people, which was convenient because we then needed to act like responsible cultural tourists at the Belau National Museum and Palau Aquarium.

The museum gave us a crash course in everything we should have researched before arriving: Palau’s history, culture, and art. The highlight was a beautifully reconstructed bai (men’s meeting house) covered in intricate wood carvings and painted decorations depicting traditional stories. It turns out these meeting houses were exclusively for men — the women had their own spaces where they presumably got more done without all the posturing. The carved legends and symbols told stories of everything from creation myths to navigational knowledge, proving that these meeting houses were part social club, part library, and part art gallery.

After learning about Palau’s terrestrial culture, we headed to the aquarium to circle back to what we’d been doing all week — staring at sea creatures — but this time with scientific context and climate control. The aquarium features several uncommon species that we’d probably swum past without recognizing. The live nautilus was particularly mesmerizing: a living fossil that’s been essentially unchanged for 500 million years, which makes our own species’ accomplishments feel distinctly less impressive. It’s humbling to meet an animal whose ancestors were already ancient when dinosaurs showed up.

By the end of day 10, we’d successfully achieved our goals: we were culturally enriched, fully relaxed, and most importantly, no longer resembled raisins.

• Belau National Museum
• Palau Aquarium

Days 11 through 13: Back to civilization (and carbs)

We’re back in Taipei! After a week of living on boats and eating mostly grilled fish, we were ready to re-embrace urban life and, more importantly, noodles. The last few days of our trip gave us a chance to explore more Taipei neighborhoods and conduct what we’re officially calling “culinary research” for tax purposes.

First order of business: traditional beef noodle soup. Our Taiwanese friends Sylvia and Stephanie pointed us to Yong-Kang Beef Noodle Restaurant, and we trust their judgment implicitly because they’ve never steered us wrong when it comes to food. The beef was so tender it practically dissolved, and the broth was the kind that makes you understand why people write poetry about soup. We may have slurped a bit too enthusiastically, but when in Taipei, slurp as the Taipei locals slurp.

Sylvia also suggested a visit to the Beitou district, which turned out to be an inspired recommendation. This part of town was developed during the Japanese era into a desirable spa and resort destination centered on hot springs — because if you’re going to colonize a place, you might as well build nice bath houses. We spent a glorious afternoon soaking at the Grand View Resort Beitou, essentially undoing all the physical activity from our Palau adventures. Our muscles approved.

The next day brought us to the Ximending district, which delivered a completely different vibe. This area is hip, trendy, and somewhat reminiscent of Tokyo’s Shinjuku neighborhood, complete with neon signs that could probably be seen from space. As we wandered the streets, we discovered LGBTQ+ friendly bars, an entire street dedicated to tattoo parlors (commitment central), street art that made us wish we were more artistic, and — naturally — amazing food everywhere we looked.

We’ve recently gotten hooked on Taiwanese wheel pies in Seattle (flaky dough shaped like a flying saucer with delicious fillings inside), so trying them in their homeland felt like a pilgrimage. Other food highlights included crispy-bottom pork soup dumplings (the best of both worlds: soup dumplings AND pan-fried goodness), Taiwanese pineapple cake (which we bought in bulk for the flight home), and cuttlefish dumplings (because regular dumplings are for amateurs).

No visit to Taipei is complete without experiencing one of the many night markets, so we spent an evening navigating the controlled chaos of Shilin night market, one of the largest. You can find almost anything for sale in the maze of booths and shops — clothing, gadgets, games, possibly your long-lost cousin — but we laser-focused on the food. Some of our top picks: oyster omelets (better than they sound), bite-sized pork dumplings (dangerous in their addictiveness), deep-fried milk (yes, really), and grilled trumpet mushrooms so popular they had a line around the block. We waited. It was worth it.

By the end of our time in Taipei, we’d reached an important conclusion: we could easily spend several more weeks here — or possibly months — just working our way through the food scene. Someone should fund this research. For science.

• Hot spring bath: Grand View Resort Beitou
• Wheel pies: Xi Men Taiwan Wheel Pies
• Pan-fried pork soup dumplings: Gan Mei Alley
• Pineapple cake: Vigor Kobo
• Cuttlefish dumplings: Hungkan Dim Sum