second day on nangang and having walked a little too hard yesterday found ourselves with little other than a wander from the giant mazu statue down along the coast passing a couple of alien and familiar villages, the kind of small ports that you'd find in the south or, just as likely across the hebrides, newhaven and fife and kindred spirits across the globe, narrow alleys winding shelter against the elements, sturdy houses coloured bright... one was a hub for navigation on the mainland, china that is, until the kmt arrived and china visible, faint hills rising across to the west, ghosts in the haar...and further, upon tributary trails winding with cliffs, ghostly gun empacements and deserted stronghold awaiting the invasion from the west, the iron fort, dahan strongpoint and on towards the beihai tunnels, dug out of the living rock by hand, uncounted lives lost in the delving, walkable at low tide, boats to rent at high... the rabbithole digging up barrowloads of zoo poo at the allotment and then on towards stirling and putting lessons learned into flawed practice...