Qixingtan Beach

Qixingtan beach, a long slow curve towards small cliffs marking the headland, facing across to the grandeur of yesterday's trek and the cloud hidden peaks of the mountains, jade green waters breaking around my feet, scattered groups along the shoreline but relatively few in comparison to what would be considered normal.

At the train station we're scanned by infra red camera before we're allowed to descent to the platform, others are taken aside to have their temperature checked manually, 37.5 the maximum allowed to travel, any higher and you're advised to go to hospital and be checked out. The train's busy, we got lucky finding seats yesterday, further confirmation that people are staying at home.

The tracks run along the edge of the hills, valleys opening sporadically, less grand than Taroko but beautiful as drizzle and haze paint them in blue tones, hinting at peaks in the distances as we pass across rivers running dry beneath bridges, through tunnels opening into stretches where the Pacific ocean extends into distance through one window and slopes clamber towards the clouds through the other.

Further north, the route moved away from the coast, rivers run high as we cross them, downstream a sequence of bridges sketched upon moist air, the ocean out with sight but only due to the weather. Soon the mountains and hills also recede as the landscape flattens, arriving on the edge of Yillan. Temples appear, red roofed and ornate, illuminated lanterns aglow as the day continues s to dull, the falling sun colluding with heavy clouds. And then the rain arrives, bringing foreshortened horizons, windows lined with trails of water.

Towns and villages pass scattered across valleys where tree strewn peaks rise in a collusion of tones, momentarily caught upon a grey canvas faded ink and watercolour, sketches changing upon each breath as the blue hour arrives, the skies to the west light enough that the summits of the hills rise in silhouette against them while, in the valleyed dark below, streetlamps begin to flicker, mapping unseen roads, gathering to notify us of unnamed settlements in the fallen night.

And suddenly we reach the outskirts of the city, tower blocks rising next to the tracks, windows towering bright within the surrounding concrete frames, patchworks of light and shade as we pass, the last miles underground, back into the labyrinth of the city.