國定古蹟

Beimen Station (北門驛)

Throughout history, Taiwan has been an island of ‘gates’ and if you’ve followed, or researched the history of the country enough, you’re probably already aware that every major town - Taipei, Hsinchu, Chiayi, Tainan, etc., all had their own gates. Useful not only for demarcating territory, the gates were instrumental in protecting its citizenry, as well. Using Taipei as an example, today, if you travel around the city, it’s highly likely that you’ll encounter the ‘Beimen’ (北門), ‘Ximen’ (西門), ‘Nanmen’ (南門) and ‘Dongmen' (東門) areas of the city. These areas signify the historic locations of the northern, western, southern, and eastern entrances of the city.

Even though the original walls that once enclosed and protected the city were demolished more than a century ago, we still recognize districts of the city using these terms, and the same goes for other major cities and towns around the country, where you can trace the history of these historic walled cities.

When the Japanese first set foot in Taiwan in 1895, the ‘walled’ cities that had been constructed prior to their arrival were far too small for what the colonial government envisioned as a proper city, so they were promptly torn down. In most cases, the decorative gates that went with the walls were torn down as well, but, we’re fortunate that in some areas, the gates were preserved for their architectural beauty. A few examples of these remaining gates are Taipei’s North Gate (北門), Hsinchu’s East Gate (西門), Tainan’s East Gate (大東門), little East Gate (小東門), South Gate (大南門), and in the southern town of Hengchun (恆春), the only former walled city in Taiwan where all of its original gates remain standing.

When it comes to Chiayi, though, a number of factors contributed to the walls of the historic city of Tsulosan (諸羅山) coming down. First, though, before I talk about their destruction, let me start by telling the story of their creation: In 1727, Liu Lang-bi (劉良璧), a local magistrate, ordered the construction of a walled city, surrounded by four gates to help protect the residents of Tsulosan. Today, we usually just refer to these gates using their cardinal directions, but they also had more formal names as well. The Eastern Gate was known as “Chin Shan" (襟山), the Western Gate was "Tai Hai" (帶海), the Southern Gate was ”Chung Yang" (崇陽), and "Kung Chen" (拱辰) was used for the for the Northern Gate. However, the Qing at the time weren’t as invested in protecting the area as much as they were other areas of Taiwan, so unlike the stone walls that protected Taipei, Tsulosan’s walls were constructed with sharpened bamboo, in a technique that was known as ‘piercing-bamboo walls’ (刺竹). Those walls would come in quite handy a few decades later as they assisted the residents of the town in resisting invasion during the Lin Shuangwen Rebellion (林爽文事件), which to say the least was an historic event of epic proportions, and would ultimately result in the Qianlong Emperor (乾隆皇帝) bestowing the name ‘Kagee’ (嘉義) on the city, a name that is still used today.

The demise of the walls and the city gates, however, came much later during the Japanese conquest of Taiwan in 1895. The residents of Kagee valiantly resisted the Japanese military, but with advanced artillery, the residents didn’t stand much of a chance. The campaign to take control of Kagee resulted in the destruction of the North Gate, and severely damaging the others. The other two gates, sadly, came down just a few years later, in 1904 and 1906, when two massive earthquakes devastated the area.

The walled town of Chiayi overlapped onto a Japanese-era map of the city.

That being said, when the Great Kagi Earthquake (嘉義大地震) occurred in 1906 (明治39年), very little of what had been constructed in the original walled city was left standing as most of the town was reduced to rubble.

Despite just a few years earlier shelling the town with artillery, in the aftermath of the earthquake, the colonial government did a pretty good job endearing itself to the residents of the town. The government quickly got to work coordinating humanitarian efforts, rescuing and treating the injured, but also for how they dealt with the thousands of dead bodies in the city, which, due to local taboos, the Formosan residents were afraid to disturb. With a clean slate, as a result of the devastation of the earthquake, the colonial government saw the opportunity for reconstruction, and immediately developed an ‘urban correction’ (市區改正) plan that would develop the town into a city, and one that was worthy of the government’s ambition for the area.

Amazingly, in just a few short years, Kagi would transform into one of Taiwan’s economic powerhouses, bringing riches to its citizens on a scale that few could have ever imagined.

One of the important things to keep in mind about Kagi was that it was strategically located in one of the most ‘tropical’ areas of the Japanese empire, and thus it was able to became one of Taiwan’s most prominent areas for the cultivation of sugarcane and various types of fruit, most notably the pineapple, which was a prized commodity for the Japanese. If the tropical nature of the plains weren’t already significant enough, when massive deposits of precious cypress in the mountainous areas near the town were discovered, Kagi became a veritable gold mine for the fledgling empire, which above all else, coveted the treasure trove of natural resources that Taiwan had to offer.

Suffice to say, the extraction of these natural resources became such an important industry that at massive expense, a ninety kilometer-long branch railway, which would become the highest elevated railway in the Japanese Empire, was constructed just to transport all of the timber out of the area.

That railway, known today as the Alishan Forest Railway (阿里山森林鐵路) has become one of Taiwan’s most iconic tourist destinations, and it all starts in the beautiful city of Chiayi, including what has also become one of the most iconic Japanese-era railway stations, Beimen Station (北門車站).

Obviously, I wouldn’t have spent so much time introducing the historic gates above if there wasn’t a good reason. If you take a look at the Japanese-era map of Kagi above, with the walled city illustrated on top, you’ll understand why. During the Japanese-era, Kagi was separated into several districts, which split the town up based on where the gates once existed. There was Hokumon District (北門町 / ほくもんちょう), Tomon District (東門町 / とうもんちょう), Seimon District (西門町 / せいもんちょう), and Nanmon District (南門町 / なんもんちょう). If you can’t understand Japanese or Chinese, you may be wondering why the names of these districts are significant, so before I start introducing the station, I should probably offer a brief language lesson to help clear up any confusion.

Below, I’ll introduce the names of each of the four historic gates with their original Taiwanese, Mandarin Pinyin, and the Japanese name, where I’ll think you should be able to see similarities between each of them, despite the fact that they’re three different languages. It’s also important to note that even though these gates had their own formal names, the names using the cardinal directions also apply to the gates in every walled city in Taiwan.

  1. North Gate (北門 / Pak-mng / Beimen / Hokumon)

  2. East Gate (東門 / Tang-mng / Dongmen / Tomon)

  3. South Gate (南門 / Lâm-mng / Nanmen / Nanmon)

  4. West Gate  (西門 / Se-mng / Ximen / Seimon)

Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s clear up something might also confuse people. If you’ve read this far, you’re probably well aware that I’m going to be introducing a train station in Chiayi, however, it’s important to note that Chiayi’s ‘Beimen’, otherwise known as ‘Hokumon Station’, wasn’t the only train station with that particular name in Taiwan.

Taipei was also once home to a ‘Hokumon Station,’ close to where the Taiwan Railway Museum (臺灣總督府鐵道部) is located today. Just across the street from the city’s iconic North Gate, today, you’ll find the underground ‘Beimen MRT Station’ (北門捷運站), which maintains the name of the original station, and the Japanese-era district where it was located. If you’ve landed here looking for information about how to get around Taipei, or the MRT station, I’m sorry, you’re in the wrong spot.

Unfortunately, this is common issue given that search engines are more likely to point you in the direction of Taipei than anywhere else in Taiwan.

One thing that might change all of that, though, has been the long-awaited reopening of the Alishan Forest Railway (阿里山森林鐵路) after considerable damage caused by typhoons and earthquakes, which shut the railway down for more than a decade. With the branch railway operational again, the area is receiving a massive increase in tourism, with people traveling to Chiayi just to take the iconic railway.

As I move on below, I’ll introduce the history of Beimen Station, including some additional information about the Alishan Railway, with a timeline of events, an introduction to the station’s architectural design, and I’ll end by offering readers an idea about how to visit.

Hokumon Station (北門驛 / ほくもんえき)

To introduce the history of the Beimen Railway Station, I’ll have to start by offering a bit of a backstory of events leading up to the arrival of the Japanese in Taiwan, and the development of the railway, which ushered in an era of modernity, development, and economic opportunity.

Overall, the construction of Taiwan’s railway not only offered the people of the island with a means of public transportation, but allowed for the transport of goods and services around the island. This ushered in a period of connectivity and economic opportunity that the people of Taiwan had yet to experience. While there were obvious benefits for the residents of the island, it’s also important to keep in mind that the railroad was an instrumental tool, which assisted in fueling Japan’s goal of extracting the island’s precious natural resources.

The history of the railway in Taiwan dates back as early as 1891 (光緒17年), just a few short years prior to the Japanese take over of the island. The original railway project, ironically, turned out to be one of the most ambitious development projects undertaken by the Qing government, under the leadership of then governor, Liu Mingchuan (劉銘傳). The Qing-era railway would stretch from the port city of Keelung (基隆) to Hsinchu (新竹), but even though the project was led by foreign engineers, the final result turned out to be quite rudimentary, and ultimately came at far too high of a cost for the Qing to finance beyond the northern portion of the island.

One could argue that they were preoccupied with both war and revolution, so finances were stretched quite thin, but it’s also important to note that the Qing never particularly cared very much about developing Taiwan, nor did they have the ability to control anything beyond a few pockets of communities along the western coast.

Understandably, if you don’t care about something, why waste money on it?

The Qing Dynasty was established at a time when China’s previous rulers had become far too weak to contend with the constant rebellions and civil disorder that were erupting around the country, and in what may seem like a case of history repeating itself, by the late 1800s, Qing rule had similarly become incompetent, and corruption was rife throughout the country.

The corruption and incompetence that was prevalent throughout China’s bureaucracy prevented its rulers from modernizing its military, but it also resulted in some diplomatic missteps that ultimately led to war with Japan. Having recently gone through a revolution of its own, in a very short time, Japan had transformed itself into one of the world’s major military powers, and when the first Sino-Japanese War (1894-1895) broke out, it ended about as quickly as it began. China’s surrender resulted in considerable embarrassment for the Qing rulers, who were entirely unprepared to wage a modern war against a much better equipped Japanese military. But more importantly, for the first time in recorded history, the balance of power in Asia shifted away from China.

In response, the Qing’s surrender to the Japanese would ultimately become the catalyst for revolution, which would within a little over a decade would bring thousands of years of imperial rule to an end.

Unable to compete with might of the Japanese military, the Qing elected to sue for peace, just a little more than six months into the war, which formally came to an end with the signing of the Treaty of Shimonoseki (下関条約).

Most notably, the key stipulations of the treaty were that China would be forced to recognize the independence of Korea, which had until that point been a vassal kingdom that had to pay tribute to China, and that Taiwan and the Penghu Islands would be ceded to Japan.

Shortly thereafter, the Japanese military set sail for Taiwan, landing in Keelung on May 29th, 1895. When they arrived, they were met with resistance from the remnants of the Qing forces stationed on the island, local Hakka militias, as well as from indigenous groups. Over the next five months, the Japanese made their way across the island waging a brutal guerrilla war that ‘officially’ came to an end with the fall of Tainan. That being said, even though the military had more or less taken control of Taiwan’s major towns, the insurgency against their rule lasted for quite a few more years, resulting in some terrible massacres.

Similar to what took place in China, the superiority of the modern Japanese military easily dispatched the local militias that put up a resistance. The campaign, however taught the Japanese a hard, yet valuable lesson, as figures show that over ninety-percent of the Japanese military deaths during the pacification of Taiwan were mostly due to malaria-related complications.

Link: Disease and Mortality in the History of Taiwan (Ts'ui-jung Liu and Shi-yung Liu)

History has shown that for the majority of time that the Qing controlled Taiwan, they were mostly uninterested in the island referring to it condescendingly as a "ball of mud beyond the sea" which added "nothing to the breadth of China" (海外泥丸,不足為中國加廣). The hostile environment on the island was just one of the many reasons why they were so ambivalent about doing much during their time here, but that probably wasn’t something they were too forthcoming with when the Japanese took an active interest in taking over.

Having to learn the hard way, the Japanese authorities were intent on addressing these health-related issues, especially since it stood in their way of extracting the island’s vast treasure trove of natural resources. To accomplish that mission, they would first have to put in place the necessary infrastructure for combating these diseases.

It would end up taking several years for the Japanese to take complete control of Taiwan, and yes, their losses were considerable, however, it was the people of Taiwan suffered the most, especially with the heavy-handed tactics that the colonial government took to suppressing dissent to their rule. That being said, when the dust of war settled, and the island started to develop, living standards improved, and the frequency of rebellions decreased. As mentioned earlier, in 1906, when the Meishan Earthquake (梅山地震), the third deadliest earthquake in Taiwan’s recorded history, reduced Kagi to rubble, the military and medical personnel were quickly dispatched to assist in rescue and recovery efforts. The earthquake may have devastated the city, but despite all the suffering and destruction it caused, it also brought with it opportunity. The reconstruction of Kagi allowed the government to completely alter the town’s urban planning structure, and developed it at such a rapid pace, that the town started to flourish as it never had before. As a major economic center for agriculture, timber and sugar, and Taiwan’s fourth-most populated city at the time, the colonial government placed a considerable amount of attention on the urban development of the city, and the response of the Japanese authorities to the earthquake in regard to both their humanitarian efforts and the reconstruction of the town was something that brought people together in a way that, after a decade of violence, many people would have imagined unlikely.

One of the colonial government’s first major development projects in Taiwan got its start shortly after the Japanese stepped foot in Keelung in 1895. The military had brought with them a group of western-educated military engineers, who were tasked with getting the existing railway between Keelung and Hsinchu back up and running. They were also tasked with coming up with proposals for the extension of the railway across the island. As the military made its way south, the engineers followed close behind surveying the land for the future railway. By 1902, the team came up with a proposal for the ‘Jukan Tetsudo Project’ (縱貫鐵道 / ゅうかんてつどう), otherwise known as the ‘Taiwan Trunk Railway Project,’ which would have the railroad pass through each of Taiwan’s established settlements, including Kirin (基隆), Taihoku (臺北), Shinchiku (新竹), Taichu (臺中), Tainan (臺南) and Takao (高雄).

Link: Taiwan Railway Museum (臺灣總督府鐵道部)

A wooden bench connected directly to the outer wall

Construction was divided into three phases with teams of engineers spread out between the ‘northern’, ‘central’ and ‘southern' regions of the island. Amazingly, in just four short years, from 1900 and 1904, the northern and southern portions of the railway were completed, but due to unforeseen complications, the central portion met with delays and construction issues. Nevertheless, the more than four-hundred kilometer western railway was completed in 1908 (明治41), taking under a decade to complete, a feat in its own right, given all of the obstacles that had to be overcome.

To celebrate this massive accomplishment, the Colonial Government held an inauguration ceremony within the newly established Taichung Park (台中公園) with Prince Kanin Kotohito (閑院宮載仁親王) invited to take part in the ceremony. For its part, the colonial government touted the completion of the railway as a major accomplishment that would usher in a new era of peace and stability in Taiwan, and one that would help to both bring about a period of modernization and economic stability.

For the most part, they were right about that. Taiwan’s railway has been transformational, and even today, it is instrumental in maintaining a high quality of life in the country.

As mentioned earlier, the northern and southern portions of the railway were completed the fastest. The southern section, originally between Kaohsiung and Tainan opened for service in 1900, and just two years later, the railway was extended to Chiayi, where the First Generation Kagi Station (嘉義驛) opened on April 20th, 1902 (明治35年). The opening of this particular station was monumental not only in that it connected one of southern Taiwan’s largest towns, but also for the colonial government’s plans to start extracting natural resources from the nearby mountainous region.

Prior to the completion of the main line, construction on the Alishan branch railway commenced in 1907, with a terminus for the branch line at Kagi Station. The construction of the railway, however, which is now considered to be one of the ‘most beautiful rail lines in the world,’ met with considerable difficulties and delays.

Just after taking control of Taiwan, the colonial government dispatched researchers across the island to identify areas that were ripe for the extraction of natural resources, and in 1899, massive reserves of cedar were discovered in the Alishan region. Planning for the construction of a branch railway, which would assist in the transportation of timber from the mountain got underway shortly thereafter. However, the planning process, which included surveying the land, and mapping out possible routes, ended up taking several years.

During the planning process, one of the main concerns was the slope of the ascent up the mountain, and ultimately the cost of undertaking such an ambitious endeavor. However, when plans were finalized and sent back to Japan for review, the project had to be shelved due to the Japanese-Russian War between 1904 and 1905. When the war came to an end, and the finances were available, construction on the railway officially started in 1907, just a year after the earthquake toppled much of what once stood in Kagi. Interestingly, though, instead of directly funding the project, the Japanese Diet signed a contract with a private company, Fujita-Gumi (藤田組), which would be responsible for the construction of the railway, and later, the extraction of timber. That being said, after investing a considerable amount of funds in the construction of the railway, the company discovered that in order to complete the project, they’d ultimately have to invest more than double what they had already committed, which gave them cold feet and construction came to an abrupt halt just over a year in with the railway half completed.

The restored exterior seems to have lost most of its cypress.

By 1910, the Japanese government, victorious in their war with the Russians, and having already started reaping tremendous wealth from their Taiwanese colony, bought out the Fujita group and construction on the railway started once again. The 86 kilometer branch railway was completed in 1913, a massive achievement at the time, as it was the highest-elevated railway in the Japanese empire, and required a tremendous amount of engineering know-how.

Along the route, trains traveled through more than fifty tunnels and over (almost) eighty wooden bridges, starting from an elevation of 30m to 2,216m at its terminus. To compliment the line, twenty-two stations were constructed, one of them being Hokumon Station (北門驛 / ほくもんえき), a short distance from Kagi Station.

Despite being quite small, Hokumon Station would become one of the most important stations along the route due to its being situated in a strategic location next to the headquarters of the Forestry Bureau, a village set up for the workers (known today as Hinoki Village), the lumber mills, a timber factory, and the Machine Works (林鐵修築工程), which was responsible for the maintenance of the trains and the railway.

The station officially opened for service on October 1st, 1910 (明治43年), and if you’ve been paying attention, you’ll likely notice that this was a few years prior to the completion of the railway. During the construction process, Hokumon Station was instrumental in running limited service between Kagi Station (嘉義驛) and Taketozaki Station (竹頭崎驛), serving as the main way-point for transporting construction staff to sites along the railway.

I probably sound a bit old saying this, but a lot of people may find it hard to believe, but before the advent of the Internet and Social Media, word also tended to spread quickly, and soon after the Alishan railway was completed, people from all over Taiwan started discovering that Alishan was spectacularly beautiful, quickly transforming it into a popular tourist destination. In 1918 (大正7年), passenger service was added to the railway for the first time, transporting tourists up into the mountains on what were known as ‘convenience cars’ (便乘列車), which were added to the rear of the freight trains.

As time went by, the Alishan Line continued to grow, and more stations were eventually added, with the line extended even higher into the mountains. By 1933 (昭和8年), the same year that the Second Generation Kagi Station (第二代嘉義車站) was completed, Sakaecho Station (栄町驛 / さかえちょうえき), located in the space between Kagi and Hokumon Station was constructed, and even more importantly, Niitakaguchi Station (新高口驛) opened to massive approval from the tourist public.

Personally, I’m not particularly sure why Sakaecho Station was ever constructed, but Niitaguchi Station on the other hand ended up being the station the highest station in the Japanese empire. It was also the gateway to ‘Mount Niitaka’ (新高山), which we refer to today as Yushan, or Jade Mountain (玉山) and offered an express route to the lodge near the trailhead. When it opened, hikers were able to summit the mountain much more quickly, making it accessible for anyone who wanted to climb Taiwan’s (and Japan’s at the time) highest peak.

Elevation of railway stations on the Alishan Railway.

When the Japanese were forced to give up control of Taiwan at the end of the Second World War, the extraction of cypress from the mountains in the Alishan area is something that actively continued under the new regime, and the branch railway remained active for quite some time. The popularity of the railway with all of Taiwan’s new arrivals, though, made Hokumon Station, which had started being referred to in Mandarin as ‘Beimen Station’ a bit outdated, so, in 1973 (明國62年), a new passenger station was constructed on the opposite side of the tracks, leaving the original station responsible for managing the freight that was passing through.

The popularity of the railway would eventually fall into decline after the completion of the Alishan Highway (阿里山公路), allowing people to drive their own vehicles up the mountains, or take buses. With the ability to travel up the mountain at your leisure, the railway would became a nostalgic tourist attraction, but due to a number of accidents along the route over the following decades, in addition to damage caused by landslides, the railway was shut down for almost a decade for repairs.

Sadly, in 1998, just a month after Beimen Station was officially recognized as a Chiayi City Protected Heritage Site (嘉義市定古蹟), fire broke out at the station, causing irreparable damage to about forty percent of the building. The city government promptly approved funding for repairs, and construction quickly got underway to restore the building, simultaneously taking the initiative to completely clean up the station-front, making it more pedestrian-friendly.

What happened after that, I’ll quickly touch upon, but since there are some legal matters that are still going through the court system, I’m not going to say too much. To briefly summarize, the ‘Beimen Passenger Station’ on the opposite side of the tracks was phased out in 2007, with the building quickly torn down so that it could be replaced. Passenger service was returned to the original station for a short time while a new building was being constructed.

The new station would be considerably larger, and would even include a hotel (阿里山麗星北門大飯店). The Chiayi City government entered into a BOT agreement with a private company, resulting in years of litigation and appeals on both sides. The issue at hand was that with the railway shutdown due to considerable damage caused by typhoons, the company took a major loss of revenue, given that few were interested in staying a hotel that connected to a shut down railway. The Chiayi City Government can’t really be blamed for any of this, though.

Link: The role of Public-Private Partnerships in Conserving Historic Buildings in Taiwan

Today, with the railway back up and running, both the new passenger station and the hotel are open to the public. With freight service phased out, and passenger services transferred across the tracks, the historic station has been emptied and once again entered a period of restoration, and unfortunately, during my two recent trips to the city, the interior of the building was inaccessible as construction had yet to be completed.

At some point in the near future the station will be completely reopened to the public as a tourist destination now that its time as a railway station has officially come to an end. However, I’m sure with the eventual retirement of Chiayi Station, and the inclusion of the Alishan Forest Railway Garage Park (阿里山森林鐵路車庫園區), Beimen Station will become part of a greater railway park that celebrates the city’s rich history.

Before I move on to detailing the architectural design of the station, I’ve put together a condensed timeline of events in the drop down box below with regard to the station’s history for anyone who is interested:

    • 1895 (明治28年) - The Japanese take control of Taiwan as per the terms of China’s surrender in the Sino-Japanese War.

    • 1896 (明治29年) - The Colonial Government puts a team of engineers in place to plan for a railway network on the newly acquired island.

    • 1899 (明治30年) - The Japanese discover massive reserves of precious cedar in the Alishan Forest Area and planning starts for a railway for the extraction of timber.

    • 1900 (明治33年) - The first completed section of the Japanese-era railway opens for service in southern Taiwan between the port town of Kaohsiung and Tainan. The transportation bureau sends engineers to the Alishan area to investigate the feasibility of building a railway to transport timber freight down the mountain.

    • 1902 (明治35年) - After years of planning and surveying, the government formally approves the Jukan Tetsudo Project (縱貫鐵道 / ゅうかんてつどう), a plan that will connect the western and eastern coasts of the island by rail.

    • 1902 (明治35年4月20日) - The First Generation Kagi Station opens for service along the southern portion of the railway.

    • 1903 - 1904 (明治36-37年) - Planning for the forest railway enters a several year period of surveying the land and possible routes for the railway with the slope of the ascent up the mountain being one of the main concerns. However, when plans for the route were finalized and sent back to Japan for review, the project was shelved because of a lack of funds due to the Japanese-Russian War.

    • 1906 (明治39年) - On March 17th, the Great Kagi Earthquake (嘉義大地震), with an epicenter in Meishan (梅山) leveled much of what had been constructed in the area. Later that year, the Japanese Diet officially approves a development project by the Fujita-Gumi (藤田組) conglomerate, which obtained the licensing rights for the railway, which revived the project.

    • 1907 (明治40年) - Construction of the Alishan Railway (阿里山林鐵) commences with the project split into three phases. However, with construction already well underway, the group discovered that in order to complete the project, an additional 1.5 million yen (on top of the the 1.3 million already spent) would have to be spent to complete the railway.

    • 1908/2/11 (明治41年) - The Fujita-Gumi group officially announces the suspension of the half-completed Alishan railway construction project due to a lack of financial resources.

    • 1908/10/24 (明治41年) - The 400 kilometer Taiwan Western Line (西部幹線) is completed with a ceremony held within Taichung Park (台中公園) on October 24th. For the first time, the major settlements along the western coast of the island are connected by rail from Kirin (Keelung 基隆) to Takao (Kaohsiung 高雄).

    • 1910 (明治43年) - Forestry officials propose restarting construction on the railway with a plan proposed to have the Japanese government buy out the Fujita group. The proposal was approved within two months and construction started right away.

    • 1910/10/1 (明治43年) - The portion of the railway between Kagi Station (嘉義驛) and Taketozaki Station (竹頭崎驛) opens for limited service. During this period of limited service, Hokumon Station is completed, and likewise opens for freight traffic, and serves as the main way point for transporting workers to the construction sites along the railway.

    • 1913 (大正2年) - The nearly ninety kilometer Alishan Forest Railway (阿里山線) between Kagi Station and Shohei Station (沼平驛 / しょうへいえき) is fully completed and opens for service.

    • 1918 (大正7年) - For the convenience of local residents, hikers and tourists, passenger cars (便乘列車) are added to the rear of the freight trains that make their way up the mountain.

    • 1933 (昭和8年) - The Second Generation Kagi Station, designed by Ujiki Takeo (宇敷 赳夫/うじき たけお) opens for service. That same year, Sakaecho Station (栄町驛 / さかえちょうえき), located between Kagi Station and Hokumon Station opens for service.

    • 1933 (昭和8年) - The Alishan Railway becomes a major tourist attraction when the railway is extended to Niitakaguchi (新高口驛) from Shohei Station (沼平驛), offering an express route to the trailhead of Mount Niitaka (新高山), what we know today as Yushan (玉山).

    • 1945 (昭和20年) - The Second World War comes to an end and the Japanese surrender control of Taiwan to the Chinese Nationalists.

    • 1973 (明國62年) - A new ‘Beimen Station’ (新北門車站) is constructed, leaving the original station in charge of freight services from the mountain as well as maintenance services.

    • 1982 (民國71年) - With the completion of the Alishan Highway, the number of passengers on the train to Alishan starts to decline.

    • 1998 (民國87年) - An eventful year for the station, in April it is recognized as a Chiayi City Protected Heritage Site (嘉義市定古蹟), but then a month later fire breaks out, destroying at least half of the historic building. A few months later, funding is approved for its restoration.

    • 2001 (民國90年) - The square in front of the station undergoes a period of restoration and improvement, making the area entirely pedestrian.

    • 2007 (民國96年) - The last train departed from the ‘new’ Beimen Station, and passenger services were moved back to the original station.

    • 2008 (民國97年) - The ‘new’ station is torn down and a much larger ‘newer’ Beimen Station is constructed in its place. This time, the new station includes a hotel (阿里山麗星北門大飯店) and a BOT agreement with a private company, which eventually results in years of litigation between the private company and the city.

    • 2009 (民國98年) - Due to the devastation caused by Typhoon Morakot, services along the railway were limited for several years, which meant that Beimen Station, the newly constructed hotel, and the area around the station suffered economically.

    • 2023 (民國112年) - Beimen Station enters a period of restoration and operation of the railway is transferred again to the ‘new’ station on the opposite side of the railway.

Architectural Design

If you took the time to read the long-winded introduction to the history of Beimen Station, you’re probably already aware that the building has gone through considerable change over the century that it has been in operation. The fire that devastated parts of the building, for example, not only altered the function of the station, but its interior layout as well. Fortunately, the building was put back together, and put back to work in no time.

The current restoration of the building, though, I have to say seems to have changed things quite a bit, and although I’m writing this article before the project has been completed, from what I’ve seen from both the exterior, and peering through the windows, I’m not particularly a big fan of what that has been done.

To start, I suppose it’s probably easiest to just explain that Beimen Station, like many of its contemporaries in the early 1900s, was constructed with Taiwanese Red Cypress (臺灣紅檜) in a traditional architectural style that became common not only in Taiwan, but back in Japan as well.

One thing that the Japanese discovered the hard way in their early years of developing Taiwan was that their traditional methods of construction, primarily making use of timber, was something that wasn’t ideal in the long-term in this environment. Not only was Taiwan prone to earthquakes and typhoons, but it was also home to a powerful little pest, known as the white termite (白蟻), which took pleasure feasting upon all of the buildings that were being constructed around the island. Fortunately, by the time Beimen Station was constructed in 1912, the Japanese had already become frustrated feeding Taiwan’s termites, and had come up with methods to continue using cypress for the construction of buildings, while also preventing termites from doing their thing.

The station was constructed with a rectangular-shaped core, with a length of 22 meters and a width of 11 meters, on an elevated cement base that prevented the termites from getting to the wooden sections of the building. The rectangular shape of the building was probably one of the more common characteristics for these early stations as the design allowed for an even partition of the passenger and staff sections of the station. Where Beimen Station differs from most of its contemporaries, though, is that the staff-side was considerably larger than the passenger side. The reason for this was simply because the station’s primary responsibility was never really intended to serve large crowds of tourists, but instead to deal with all of the freight that was being transferred to the lumber yards nearby.

If you’re looking at the station in person, and keeping in mind the official measurements above, you’ll probably find it a bit odd that the station is measured at 11 meters deep. What the literature doesn’t actually tell you very clearly is that the depth also includes the platform space for the station, which extends beyond the station house. Unfortunately, as I mentioned above, the interior of the station is still in the process of being restored, so until it completely reopens, I won’t be able to provide photos of what you’ll find inside. From the information provided, though, the interior is constructed entirely with cypress and features bamboo and mud insulated walls (編竹夾泥牆), with all four sides of the building featuring large Japanese-style paneled sliding glass windows (日式橫拉窗).

With regard to the passenger area of the station, there was a small waiting room (等候室), a square (廣場) in front of the station, the porch (門廊), platform space (月台), and the ticket booth (檢票口). Within the staff section, there was an office (辦公室), the ticket booth (售票口), baggage check-in office (行李托運處), and a signal room (信號室). Additionally, there was a detached warehouse outside of the station that included duty rooms (值班室) and a tea space (茶水間).

If I were to just tell you that the building was constructed in a ‘rectangular-shape’, I wouldn’t be doing it justice, so let me explain some of the more advanced architectural terms. First, instead of referring to it as ‘rectangular’, it’s important to note that the building was constructed using the traditional irimoya (入母屋造 / いりもやづくり) style of design. An ubiquitous style of Japanese architectural design, ‘irimoya’ is most often referred to in English as the “East Asian hip-and-gable roof,” which is something that I don’t particularly think really helps the average English-language reader really understand what’s actually going on.

To explain, the key thing to keep in mind about irimoya-style buildings is that they feature what’s known as a ‘moya’ (母屋 / もや), which in this case is essentially just the rectangular core of the building. But then again, almost every type of building around the world features a base that is directly beneath the roof, so what you’ll want to keep in mind in this regard is that Japanese architects have come up with a genius network of pillars and trusses within the ‘moya’ that not only ensure the building’s stability, but also adds an ample amount of support for the weight of the roof. What ends up completing this style of design is that the core of the building is (almost) always complimented by a roof that eclipses the size of the core. While its true that a lot of emphasis is placed on decorative roof designs within Japanese architectural design, none of it would be possible without the mathematical and carpentry genius it takes to construct the base, which is why I think the roof shouldn’t always be the main focus.

Given that the term in English is translated as the “East Asian hip-and-gable roof,” you might understand why I take issue with the term given that Beimen Station’s roof was constructed using the traditional yosemune (寄棟造 / よせむねづくり) style of design. In most cases, ‘yosemune-style’ roofs are combined with another style of roof design to make the geometrically-shaped ‘hip-and-gable’ roof. However, Beimen Station’s ‘yosemune’ roof is essentially just a four-sided ‘hip’ roof that covers and extends beyond the base of the building. Thus, the so-called ‘hip-and-gable’ roof doesn’t actually feature a ‘gable’ section, making it quite simple as far as these things go.

The upper part of the roof is covered with Japanese-style black tiles (日式黑瓦) while the lower eaves are covered with rain-boards (雨淋板) that extend beyond the roof and help to direct the flow of rain water on rainy days, while also offering passengers some extra protection from the elements. The tiles that cover the roof have faded in color, so it’s difficult to tell how old they are, although it’s highly likely that they were replaced after the restoration to the building in 1998.

The rain-boards that extend from the roof are supported by a network of pillars on the sides and the rear of the building where they extend much further from the roof than they do at the front. Even though the roof is somewhat basic in terms of its decorative elements, especially when compared to the hip-and-gable style roofs you’ll find on other Japanese-era buildings, there are still a number of elements to take note of with the various types of tiles that connect to cover the roof.

  1. Nokigawara (軒瓦/のきがわら) - The roof tiles placed along the eaves lines.

  2. Noshigawara (熨斗瓦/のしがわら) - Thick rectangular tiles located under ridge tiles.

  3. Munagawara (棟瓦 /むねがわら) - Ridge tiles used to cover the apex of the roof.

  4. Onigawara (鬼瓦/おにがわら) - Decorative roof tiles found at the ends of a main ridge.

While not exactly part of the roof, one thing that adds a bit of shape to the building is the addition of a roof-covered ‘kurumayose' (車寄/くるまよせ) porch, which protrudes from the rain-boards on the flat front of the building with a pair of pillars holding it up. The roof of the porch features a two-sided, almost triangular-like, kirizuma-style roof (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) facing in the opposite direction of the roof above, adding to the three dimensional design of the building. Even though the ‘porch’ is decorative in nature, it’s also functional in that it allows passengers coming to the station to know which is the entrance to the station that they’re supposed to use, rather than attempting to enter the staff-side of the station.

In the near future, I hope to visit the station again when the restoration has been fully completed so that I can include photos of the interior, and better explain what you’ll find inside. During my most recent visit, I was able to peer in through the windows at the mostly empty building, so I could see that the original wooden benches and the ticket booth and window were still there, which is great. On my next visit, I’d also like to spend more time exploring the railway park nearby. Until then, I hope this introduction helps you understand the station a little more.

Getting There

 

Address: #428 Gonghe Road, East District, Chiayi City

(嘉義市東區共和路428號)

GPS: 23.487778, 120.455278

Whenever I write about one of Taiwan’s historic train stations, it probably makes sense that the best possible advice for getting there is to simply take the train. In this case, though, unless you find yourself taking the Alishan Forest Railway, you’re not likely to find yourself on a train that stops at the (current) Beimen Station.

Chiayi is a pretty popular place these days, though, and there are a number of methods for travelers to reach the city, without taking the train. The historic Beimen Station is a short walk from Chiayi Station, and even closer to the famed Hinoki Village, both of which offer options for public transport, so if you’re in the city, you shouldn’t have too much trouble getting yourself to this historic little station.

If, however, you are making use of the railway as your primary method of transportation, arriving in Chiayi is pretty simple. It doesn’t matter whether you’re traveling southbound, or northbound, as one of Taiwan’s major railway stations, Chiayi Station is accessible via all of the western trunk line’s express train services as well as the local commuter trains, so matter what train you get on, it’ll make a stop at Chiayi station.

High Speed Rail / Bus Rapid Transport

If you arrive in town via Taiwan’s High Speed Rail, you’ll probably notice that the station is located a fair distance away from the downtown core of the city. Taking the HSR to Chiayi saves a lot of travel time, especially if you’re traveling from Taipei, but once you’ve arrived, you’re going to have to either take a taxi or a bus into town. Fortunately, Chiayi Station is connected to the Chiayi High Speed Railway Station (嘉義高鐵站) through the Chiayi Bus Rapid Transit (嘉義公車捷運), an express bus service that connects the High Speed Rail station to the city.

If you arrive in the area via High Speed Rail, you can easily exit the station to the bus parking area and hop on either bus #7211 or #7212 to get yourself to the downtown core of the city.

Link: Bus #7211 and #7212 schedule (Chiayi City Bureau of Transport)

Even more convenient is that Bus #7212 stops directly at the Chiayi City Cultural Center Bus Stop, which I’ll mention below.

Bus

As I just mentioned, in recent years, Chiayi City has upgraded its bus network into a “BRT” (Bus Rapid Transport) system similar to the one in used in Taichung. The new system has replaced all of the old Chiayi Bus (嘉義公車) routes that used to exist. So, if you’ve looked at other resources online that haven’t been updated, you might find yourself a bit confused about how to get around.

If you want to make use of Chiayi City’s public bus routes, there are numerous options for getting to Beimen Station, but the important thing to keep in mind is that the station is accessible via two different stops, both of which are quite convenient for travelers. Below, I’ll separate the route options based on the stop where you’ll get off and provide links to their schedules. However, it’s important to keep in mind that links like this in Taiwan are incredibly unreliable. If you discover that one of the links isn’t active, let me know in the comments below and I’ll update it!

Hinoki Village bus stop (檜意森活村)

From the Hinoki Village Bus Stop, you’ll simply cross Linsen East Road (林森東路) and walk down the narrow Gonghe Road (共和路) for about a minute or two before you arrive at Beimen Station.

Bus Routes: Yellow Line, Yellow Line A, Lohas Line 1, Lohas Line 9

Chiayi City Cultural Center bus stop (文化中心)

From the Chiayi Cultural Center Bus Stop, you’ll simply cross Zhongxiao Road (忠孝路) by the train tracks and walk down Lane 243 of Gonghe Road (共和路243巷) for about a minute or two before you arrive at the station.

Bus Routes: Red Line, Red Line A, #7202, #7203, #7204, #7217, #7304, #7305, #7309, #7315, #7316, #7700, #7701

Youbike

Finally, Chiayi is very well-equipped with Youbike Stations scattered across the city in convenient tourist-friendly locations. If you’ve arrived in town via the train, there is a large Youbike station just outside where you’ll be able to swipe your EasyCard and go for a ride on one of the shared bicycles.

If you’re riding a Youbike, you can easily dock the bicycle at the docking station next to Hinoki Village (檜意森活村), and check out the station, which is across the street.

The roads in Chiayi are quite wide, and drivers are a lot more considerable towards pedestrians than they are in other areas of Taiwan, so if you’re in the area, making use of the YouBike service is a highly recommended option. They also allow you to stop and check out any of the cool things you’ll see while riding around the streets and the historic alleys of the city.

If you haven’t already, I highly recommend downloading the Youbike App to your phone so that you’ll have a better idea of the location where you’ll be able to find the closest docking station.

Link: Youbike - Apple / Android

Now that the historic Beimen Station has (once again) been phased out and replaced by a modern station on the opposite side of the tracks, the little wooden station house has entered a new period in its existence as a tourist attraction. Having recently been restored, the station should soon be opened to the public, likely as an extension of the nearby Hinoki Village, where you’ll be able to learn about the history of the Alishan Forest Railway and the station itself. That being said, until the station fully reopens to the public, its unclear what purpose it will actually serve.

As a protected heritage property, and an important part of Chiayi’s history, it’s great that the station has been restored and will soon become another one of the city’s tourist destinations, but I do have to say that some of the decisions made with regard to its restoration were somewhat questionable. Hopefully, though, when the interior of the station opens to the public, and we get to enjoy the finished product, some of those issues will be cleared up. If you’re in the area visiting Hinoki Village, I highly recommend crossing the street and checking out this beautiful little train station.

References

  1. Beimen railway station | 北門車站 中文 | 北門駅 日文 (Wiki)

  2. Alishan Forest Railway | 阿里山林業鐵路 中文 | 阿里山森林鉄路 日文 (Wiki)

  3. Chiayi railway station | 嘉義車站 中文 | 嘉義駅 日文 (Wiki)

  4. Tainan Prefecture | 臺南州 中文台南州 日文 (Wiki)

  5. Chiayi | 嘉義市 中文 | 嘉義市 日文 | 嘉義市 (州轄市) (Wiki)

  6. 嘉義市市定古蹟阿里山鐵路北門驛調查研究規劃 (嘉義市政府)

  7. 阿里山林業暨鐵道文化景觀 (國家文化資產網)

  8. 林業鐵路歷史介紹 (林業鐵道)

  9. 北門驛現址─北門車站 (國家文化記憶庫)

  10. [嘉義市].檜意森活村.阿里山森林鐵路車庫園區.北門驛 (Tony Huang)


Chiayi Train Station (嘉義驛)

Chiayi, is one of those special places in Taiwan that everybody just seems to love. Sure, it often gets overshadowed by its neighbor to the south, Tainan, but similar to Tainan, Chiayi is home to a plethora of historic places to visit, and is home to some of Taiwan’s most well-loved dishes. One of the other similarities that the two cities share, however, is that in recent years, the younger generation, most of whom migrated north to Taipei (or elsewhere) for better opportunities have returned, and they’ve brought with them a really cool hipster vibe that both cities have been more than happy to cash in on, bringing about exponential increases in domestic tourists.

Sometimes when these things happen, its just a stroke of luck, but in Chiayi’s case, I’d argue that it was also excellent timing. The young people from the area saw what was taking place in Tainan, with all of the restaurants and coffee shops opening up there, and thought, why can’t the same thing be done at home in Chiayi? Fortunately, when they returned, they also found themselves with a very willing partner in the local city government, which had invested considerably in the city’s historic properties, making them tourist-friendly, as well as improving the city’s public transportation infrastructure, which makes it even easier for people from all over the country to visit.

When Netflix’s “Street Food: Asia” series was released, to the surprise of no one, cities that are traditionally known for their food scenes, such as Bangkok, Osaka, Delhi, Seoul and Singapore were featured. Amazingly, though, both Taipei and Tainan, which usually hog all the limelight, were skipped, and the series featured a heartwarming story about Chiayi, its street food scene, and a special focus on how the younger generation returned and helped to bring the city back to life. For a lot of people, Chiayi was always just the gateway to the spectacularly beautiful Alishan National Forest Recreation Area, but thanks to the Netflix series, and the contributions of the local government and young entrepreneurs, the city currently provides visitors with a lot more incentive to stick around for a while.

Throughout all of the changes that have taken place in Chiayi in recent years, one of the things that has remained constant, at least for the past century or so, is the means by which most visitors arrive in the city. The city just so happens to be home to one of the few of Taiwan’s major Japanese-era railway stations that remains in operation today. The station, which is absolutely beautiful, is one of the city’s most iconic buildings, and whenever you see an image promoting Chiayi, the station is likely to feature prominently as it so well-known and well-loved.

Suffice to say, if you’ve been following the articles published on this blog over the past few years, you’re likely well-aware that the railway is an incredibly important aspect of everyday life in Taiwan, and has been instrumental in fueling the nation’s rapid development. However, as the country around it has developed, the railway has also had to constantly evolve to meet the needs of the ever-changing population. Sadly, the modernization of the railway has meant that most of the other major Japanese-era stations in Keelung, Taipei, Changhua, Kaohsiung and Pingtung have succumbed to the changing environment, while only the stations in Hsinchu, Chiayi and Tainan remain in operation.

But for how much longer is the real question.

Link: Taiwan’s Remaining Japanese-era Train Stations (台鐵現存日治時期車站)

Fortunately, we’ve entered a period in Taiwan’s national development where citizens actively pay a lot more attention to the preservation of the nation’s heritage buildings, so local governments, in partnership with the national government are held accountable in ensuring that public funding is made available for both their protection and preservation. Thus, when it came time for the historic Taichung Railway Station to be phased out of service, the local government preserved the station and created an absolutely beautiful railway culture park next to the new station, which has become an incredibly popular tourist attraction within the heart of the city.

Link: Taichung Train Station (臺中驛)

While Chiayi’s historic station remains in operation today, that situation is ultimately going to change as the railway within the city is going to go through the same type of modernization as has taken place in Taichung, which will help to ensure faster and more efficient travel times for passengers. When that happens, you can be sure that when this station is phased out, plans will be made to mirror the success of Taichung’s Railway Culture Park, with efforts already underway to coordinate the future park to include the Alishan Forest Railway Garage Park (阿里山森林鐵路車庫園區) and Beimen Station (北門車站), which will make for one of Taiwan’s largest railway culture parks.

Today, though, I’m going to introduce Chiayi Station as it is now, introducing you to its history, and its architectural design so that you can better understand this significant piece of Taiwan’s history.

Kagi Station (嘉義驛/かぎえき)

To introduce the history of the railway station, I’ll have to start by offering a bit of a backstory of events leading up to the arrival of the Japanese in Taiwan, and the development of the railway, which ushered in an era of modernity, development, and economic opportunity. The railroad not only offered the people of Taiwan with a means of public transportation, but allowed for the transport of goods and services allowing for a level of connectivity that the residents of Taiwan had yet to experience. While there were obvious benefits for the residents of the island, the railroad also became an instrumental tool that helped to fuel the fledgling empire’s goal of extracting the island’s precious natural resources, and there are few places in Taiwan where that was more evident than in Chiayi.

The history of the railway in Taiwan dates back as early as 1891 (光緒17年), just a few short years prior to the Japanese take over of the island. The railway project turned out to be one of the most ambitious development projects undertaken by the Qing government, under the leadership of then governor, Liu Mingchuan (劉銘傳). The Qing-era railway stretched from the port city of Keelung (基隆) to Hsinchu (新竹), but even though the project was led by foreign engineers, the final result turned out to be rather rudimentary, and ultimately came at far too high of a cost for the Qing to continue financing. Given that the Qing never particularly cared very much about developing the island, the high cost of the construction of the railway, and the fact that they were also preoccupied with war (and revolution), the project wasn’t particularly a serious one.

The Qing Dynasty was established during a period when China’s previous rulers had become far too weak to contend with the constant rebellions and civil disorder that were erupting around the country. Then, a hundred years later, in what may seem like a case of history repeating itself, by the late 1800s, Qing rule had similarly become incompetent, and corruption was rife throughout the country. The corruption that was prevalent throughout China’s bureaucracy not only prevented the Qing from modernizing its military, but also resulted in some diplomatic missteps that ultimately led to war with Japan, which itself was going through its Meiji Revolution (明治維新), and was in the process of transforming itself into a major military power. That war, known today as the first ‘Sino-Japanese War’ (1894-1895), ended about as quickly as it began, resulting in considerable embarrassment for the Qing rulers, who were completely unprepared to wage war against a much better, modern equipped Japanese military.

The war ultimately shifted the balance of power in Asia from China to Japan, and ultimately became the catalyst for revolution in China, which would within a little over a decade bring imperial rule to an end. Unable to compete with might of the Japanese military, the Qing elected to negotiate for peace, just a little more than six months into the war, formally ending with the signing of the Treaty of Shimonoseki (下関条約). Most notably, the key stipulations of the treaty were that China would be forced to recognize the independence of Korea (which until that time had been a tributary state), and that Taiwan and the Penghu Islands would be ceded to Japan, in addition to paying reparations that amounted to 8,000,000 kilograms of silver.

Shortly thereafter, the Japanese set sail for Taiwan, landing in Keelung on May 29th, 1895. Upon arrival, Japanese forces were met with fierce resistance from the remnants of the Qing forces stationed on the island, local Hakka militias, as well as indigenous groups. Over the next five months, the Japanese made their way south fighting a guerrilla war that ‘officially’ came to an end with the fall of Tainan in October. That being said, even though the military had more or less taken control of Taiwan’s major towns, the insurgency against their rule lasted for quite a while longer, resulting in some brutal massacres against the people of Taiwan. Nevertheless, similar to the war with China, the superiority of the modern Japanese military easily dispatched the local armies. The campaign to take control of Taiwan, however, taught the Japanese a hard, yet valuable lesson, as figures show that over ninety-percent of the Japanese military deaths during those first few months were mostly due to complications related to Cholera, Dengue Fever, and Malaria.

Link: Disease and Mortality in the History of Taiwan (Ts'ui-jung Liu and Shi-yung Liu)

History has shown that for the majority of time that the Qing controlled Taiwan, they were mostly uninterested in the island referring to it as a "ball of mud beyond the sea" which added "nothing to the breadth of China" (海外泥丸,不足為中國加廣). The hostile environment on the island was likely one of the reasons why they were so ambivalent about doing much during their time here, but that probably wasn’t something they were actively reminding the Japanese about prior to their arrival. Learning this the hard way, the Japanese were intent on addressing these issues, which had plagued Taiwan for much of its modern history, especially since they were invested in extracting the island’s vast treasure trove of natural resources.

To accomplish that mission, they would first have to put in place the necessary infrastructure for combating these diseases.

In Actuality, it would take several years for the Japanese to fully take control of Taiwan, and their losses were quite heavy, however, it would be the people of Taiwan who suffered the most, especially with the heavy-handed tactics that the Japanese took to suppress dissent to their rule. That being said, when the dust of war settled and the island started to develop, living standards on the island in turn started to improve, and the frequency of rebellions decreased.

For the Chiayi area, one of the major turning points in the city’s history came in 1906 when the Meishan Earthquake (梅山地震), the third deadliest earthquake in Taiwan’s history reduced the town to rubble. In response, the government quickly dispatched military and medical personnel to the area to assist in recovery efforts. As a major economic center for agriculture, timber and sugar, and Taiwan’s fourth-most populated town at the time, the colonial government placed a considerable amount of attention on the urban development of the city, and the response of the Japanese authorities to the earthquake in regard to both their humanitarian efforts and the reconstruction of the town was something that brought people together in a way that after a decade of violence, many people would have imagined unlikely. The earthquake may have devastated the city, but despite all the suffering and destruction it caused, it also brought with it opportunity, as reconstruction allowed the government to alter the town’s urban planning structure and developed it at such a rapid pace, that it started to flourish as it never had before.

An elderly couple enjoying the famed railway bento while waiting for the train!

Note: Let me take a minute to explain the terms I’ll using here for the town, and the station, so that you don’t get too confused. The area we refer to today as “Chiayi” (嘉義) was originally known either as ‘Tsulosan’ or ‘Tirosen' (諸羅山) in the local indigenous language, and slowly started being settled by Hokkien immigrants from Fujian during the Qing Dynasty. As I referred to earlier, the Qing, though, weren’t all that interested in Taiwan, and in addition to the pejorative phrase used to describe Taiwan above, they also had another saying about Taiwan, that translated literally was "every three years an uprising; every five years a rebellion" (三年一反、五年一亂), referring to the constant civil strife in Taiwan with regard to their governance, or lack thereof.

One of the most well-known of those uprisings was the ‘Lin Shuangwen Rebellion’ (林爽文事件) in 1786, which ended up being one of the more successful attempts at ridding Taiwan of Qing influence. It was during this time that the residents of Tsulosan banded together and fought bravely to defend their town from Lin’s militia, and when the rebellion finally came to an end, Emperor Qianlong (乾隆皇帝) rewarded the people of the town by changing its name from the original indigenous name, to “Chiayi” (嘉義), which pronounced in Hokkien as “Kagi”, and is literally translated as “Commended Righteousness.”

When the Japanese arrived in Taiwan, the name of the town was one of the few that didn’t have to be changed, because the Hokkien pronunciation and the Japanese pronunciation were exactly the same. So, the area was more or less referred to as “Kagi” (嘉義 / かぎし) from 1787 to the late 1940s when it was officially changed to its Mandarin pronunciation of “Chiayi,” although most of the area’s residents are likely still to refer to it as Kagi.

One of the colonial government’s first major development projects got its start shortly after the first Japanese boots stepped foot in Keelung in 1895. The military had brought with them a group of western-educated military engineers, who were tasked with bringing the existing Qing-era railway back online, as well as coming up with proposals for the extension of the railway across the island. As the military made its way south, the engineers followed close behind surveying the land for the future railway. By 1902, the team came up with a proposal for the ‘Jukan Tetsudo Project’ (縱貫鐵道 / ゅうかんてつどう), otherwise known as the ‘Taiwan Trunk Railway Project,’ which would have a railway pass through each of Taiwan’s established settlements, including Kirin (基隆), Taihoku (臺北), Shinchiku (新竹), Taichu (臺中), Tainan (臺南) and Takao (高雄).

Link: Taiwan Railway Museum (臺灣總督府鐵道部)

Construction was divided into three phases with teams of engineers spread out between the ‘northern’, ‘central’ and ‘southern' regions of the island. Amazingly, in just four short years, from 1900 and 1904, the northern and southern portions of the railway were completed, but due to unforeseen complications, the central area met with delays and construction issues. Nevertheless, the more than four-hundred kilometer western railway was completed in 1908 (明治41), taking just under a decade to complete, a feat in its own right, given all of the obstacles that had to be overcome. To celebrate this massive accomplishment, the Colonial Government held an inauguration ceremony within the newly established Taichung Park (台中公園) with Prince Kanin Kotohito (閑院宮載仁親王) invited to take part in the ceremony.

The Japanese government at the time touted the completion of the railway as a major accomplishment that would usher in a new era of peace and stability in Taiwan, and one that would help to bring about a period of modernization, and economic stability to the people of the island, and for the most part, they were right about that.

As mentioned earlier, the northern and southern portions of the railway were completed the fastest, with the engineers having the most trouble with the central region, mostly in Taichung, due to the necessity for the construction of several bridges. The southern section, originally between Kaohsiung and Tainan opened for service in 1900, and just two years later, the railway was extended to Kagi, where the First Generation Kagi Station (第一代嘉義驛) officially opened on April 20th, 1902 (明治35年). The opening of the station would be instrumental in connecting one of southern Taiwan’s largest settlements, but also for the colonial government’s future plans to start extracting natural resources from the Alishan Mountain region.

First Generation Kagi Station (第一代嘉義驛)

Prior to the completion of the main line, construction on the Alishan Railway commenced in 1907, with a terminus for the branch line at Kagi Station. That being said, the construction of the railway, which is now considered to be one of the most beautiful rail lines in the world, met with considerable financial difficulties and delays. Nevertheless, the 86km branch railway was completed in 1913, and offered not only passenger service access to the Alishan region, but was instrumental in the extraction of the area’s prized cypress.

It should be noted, however, that what often gets overlooked in discussions about the history of Kagi Station is that the station wasn’t solely home to the Alishan Forest Branch Railway. There were also other branch railways that connected to Kagi Station, most of which traveled west toward the communities closer to the coast, in what we now refer to as Chiayi County. These branch railways offered passenger services, but were for the most part privately run enterprises belonging to the various sugar factories operating in the region, but made use of Kagi Station for purposes of transporting freight.

Photo from the skywalk to the rear of the First Generation Kagi Station.

After a few decades of use, the First Generation Kagi Station had become far too small for the community that had grown around it, as well as for the amount of freight passing through, so the expansion of the station and the railway became necessary. The station we know today, the Second Generation Kagi Station (第二代嘉義驛) was completed in 1933 (昭和8年), and was considerably larger than its single-story wooden predecessor. The new station, designed by architect Ujiki Takeo (宇敷 赳夫/うじき たけお) was constructed in a style that was considered to be quite contemporary for its time, and displayed just how much Taiwan had progressed in the few short decades since the Japanese took control of the island.

Japanese-era photo of the Second Generation Kagi Station

Just to give you a better indication of architect Ujiki Takeo’s contributions to Taiwan, he was also the mastermind responsible for Tainan Station (臺南驛), Taihoku Station (第三代台北驛), Tai’an Station (泰安驛), Kagi City Hall (嘉義郡役所), the Taipei Railway Workshop (臺北機廠), and the Shinchiku Prefectural Library (新竹州圖書館), among others.

When the new, much larger station was completed, it was part of an urban development plan that transformed the face of the downtown area of Kagi, with a number of beautifully designed civic buildings and industrial buildings nearby, making the station the literal beating heart of the ever-growing city. That being said, the importance of the station to the residents of Kagi is something that evokes both positive and negative memories.

To this point, I’ve only focused on the events that took place regarding its construction, but it has to be noted that when the Japanese surrendered control of Taiwan at the end of the Second World War, the regime that took over used the station’s importance to make a bit of a point to the people of the town about how much they were willing to put up with. By now, most people who have studied Taiwanese history have learned about the terrible events that took place during the February 28th Incident (二二八事件), something which is now commemorated as an annual national holiday in Taiwan.

However, some of the things that happened during this infamous moment in Taiwanese history aren’t very well-told, and the ‘Kagi Station Incident’ might only be one that lingers in the memories of the residents of the city. Essentially, what took place was that in 1947, the Chinese Nationalist Military found itself trapped within the Chiayi Airport, due to protests from local residents because of what was taking place in other parts of Taiwan.

One of the Kagi’s most influential citizens, famed painter and politician, Tan Teng-pho (陳澄波), partnered with a group of the city’s other well-known residents and formed the ‘February 28 Incident Committee’ (二二八事件處理委員會), and after much debate came to the conclusion that they would approach the military under the banner of peace in an attempt to mediate a solution to the conflict. Things didn’t go as planned, though, and instead, they were arrested, and once the military was able to make its way out of the airport, members of the committee were forced to march from the local police station to Kagi Station, where they were then executed in front of a crowd of people. The military and the police forbid family members from removing their corpses, and their bodies ended up being left rotting in the square in front of the station for three days as a warning to the residents of the city not to mess around.

Bloodstained Station Square (血染車站廣場) by Ouyang Wen (歐陽文)

In what has become a well-known work of art depicting what happened, artist Ouyang Wen (歐陽文), a resident of Chiayi, and an eventual political prisoner himself, depicted Tan Teng-pho and others being shot from the back of a truck by Nationalist soldiers. Sadly, this was just one example of the atrocities that the people of Taiwan had to endure during the long-period of martial law, known as the White Terror Period (白色恐怖) that followed.

Over the next half century, ‘Chiayi Station’, as its now known, has overseen considerable changes as the city has grown around it. Not only has the city grown and continued developing, but the railway has as well, with efforts constantly being made to modernize the network. That being said, the station has also overseen long periods of economic stagnation as both the timber and sugar industries that once made it an economic powerhouse have declined. The Alishan Forest Railway has been converted into a passenger-only service, and the massive network of sugar railways that once connected to the station have (for the most part) all been torn up.

With the decline of both of these industries, which were the rocket fuel of Chiayi’s urban and economic development through both the Japanese-era, and the early years of the post-war era, the necessity for freight service out of the city had also declined. While the original freight and military rails remained in place for several decades, they were finally officially put out of service in 2023 and in the time since, construction work has started to have those sections of the railway torn up, in order to prepare for the future elevation of the railway.

Link: Chiayi Urban District Elevated Railway Project (嘉義市區鐵路高架化計畫) (Wiki)

With plans to have the railway elevated off of the ground, and the eventual construction of an MRT system within the city, there will be a considerable amount of investment in the city’s public transportation over the next several decades, and in a situation similar to what happened with Taichung’s historic Japanese-era station, Chiayi Station as we know it today will be retired within the next few years. When that happens, the station will likely undergo a period of restoration, and then re-open to the public as a railway culture park of some sort.

However, since construction projects like this in Taiwan are notorious for their delays, it’s difficult to say when the historic station will see its last day of service, but as I mentioned in my introduction earlier, if you want to enjoy the station in its original glory, now is the time to visit. Try your best to get there as soon as you can so you can enjoy both the beautiful city, and its historic station!

Before I move on to detailing the architectural design of the station, I’ve put together a condensed timeline of events in the drop-down box below with regard to the station’s history for anyone who is interested:

    • 1895 (明治28年) - The Japanese take control of Taiwan as per the terms of China’s surrender in the Sino-Japanese War.

    • 1896 (明治29年) - The Colonial Government puts a team of engineers in place to plan for a railway network on the newly acquired territory.

    • 1900 (明治33年) - The first completed section of the Japanese-era railway opens for service in southern Taiwan between the port town of Kaohsiung and Tainan.

    • 1902 (明治35年) - After years of planning and surveying, the government formally approves the Jukan Tetsudo Project (縱貫鐵道 / ゅうかんてつどう), a plan that will connect the western and eastern coasts of the island by rail.

    • 1902 (明治35年4月20日) - The First Generation Kagi Station opens for service along the southern portion of the railway.

    • 1906 (明治39年) - On March 17th, the Great Kagi Earthquake (嘉義大地震), with an epicenter in Meishan (梅山) leveled much of what had been constructed in the area.

    • 1907 (明治40年) - Construction of the Alishan Railway (阿里山林鐵) commences.

    • 1908 (明治41年) - The 400 kilometer Taiwan Western Line (西部幹線) is completed with a ceremony held within Taichung Park (台中公園) on October 24th. For the first time, the major settlements along the western coast of the island are connected by rail from Kirin (Keelung 基隆) to Takao (Kaohsiung 高雄).

    • 1913 (大正2年) - The 86km Alishan Forest Railway (阿里山線) between Kagi Station and Shohei Station (沼平驛 / しょうへいえき) is completed and opens for service.

    • 1933 (昭和8年) - The Second Generation Kagi Station, designed by Ujiki Takeo (宇敷 赳夫/うじき たけお) opens for service.

    • March 2nd 1947 (民國36年3月2日) - Due to a violent conflict between the residents of Chiayi and the Chinese Nationalist military, which found itself trapped within the Chiayi Airport, several local residents, including famed painter and politician Tan Teng-pho (陳澄波) formed the ‘February 28 Incident Committee’ (二二八事件處理委員會) and approached the military in an attempt to mediate a peaceful solution to the conflict, but were instead arrested.

    • March 25th 1947 (民國36年3月25日) - Tied up with wire, the arrested members of the committee were forced to march from the local police station to the train station and were then publicly executed with members of their families forbidden from removing their corpses, which were left in the square in front of the station for three days as a warning to the residents of the city.

    • 1988 (民國77年) - A statue of Wu Feng (吳鳳), a historic figure who had attempted to ‘civilize the natives’, located near the entrance of the station, was beheaded by members of the local indigenous community as he had been propped up by the Chinese Nationalists as a national hero, but was a constant reminder of the historic racism and stereotypes that the indigenous people of Taiwan have been forced to endure.

    • 1998 (民國87年) - Chiayi Station is recognized as a Chiayi City Protected Heritage Property (市定古蹟) on October 15th.

    • 2007 (民國96年) - With the completion of the High Speed Railway, the Chiayi City government also establishes a bus network that connects the two stations.

    • 2017 (民國106年) - The area in front of the station is cleaned up and a station beautification process is undertaken.

    • 2023 (民國112年) - The non-passenger ‘platforms’ that were used for freight trains and military transport are phased out of service in order to make way for the planned elevation of the railway running through Chiayi City.

Architectural Design

As you saw in some of the historic photos provided above, for the first three decades of its existence, Kagi Station, like almost all of the ‘first-generation’ stations constructed across Taiwan, was a simple, traditionally designed wooden building. However, unlike the few Japanese-era stations that you’ll find remaining in operation today, this one was considerably larger.

If you’ve been reading my articles for any period of time, you’re likely to have noticed that I tend to focus on the more traditional-looking Japanese-style buildings, most of which were constructed with timber, and even though the Second Generation Kagi Station we know and love today is quite beautiful, the historic photos of its predecessor are the kind of thing that make you wish time travel were possible.

It would be amazing to be able to take photos of it in its original glory.

That being said, after three decades of earthquakes, typhoons, termites, and ultimately, changes in the demographics of the city, an upgrade became necessary. Coincidentally, by the time that planning started for the second generation Kagi Station, other major stations around the island were also receiving major upgrades, in most cases, due to the reasons mentioned above, but also for more practical reasons as well.

Far away from Taiwan, back on the Japanese mainland, the devastating Great Kanto Earthquake (関東大地震) in 1923, completely changed the Japanese mindset regarding construction. All of the work that had been done throughout the Meiji and Taisho eras, developing Japan into a modern nation had been reduced to rubble in a matter of minutes and due to the frequency of earthquakes, the Japanese government started to take building safety much more seriously. This was a period when ‘earthquake-proofing’ structures became paramount and as it happened, the colonial government had developed Taiwan to the point that the materials required for constructing buildings with reinforced concrete had become readily available, and considerably more affordable. Thus, many of the civic buildings and train stations that were constructed in the aftermath of the Kanto earthquake started to adapt to this method of construction as safety and longevity became paramount.

Note: Although the Second Generation Kagi Station was completed in 1933, earthquake-proofing in Taiwan didn’t actually became the law of the land until the Governor General’s official building-standard codes came into effect after the Shinchiku-Taichu Earthquake (新竹台中地震 / しんちくたいちゅうじしん) of 1935 (昭和10), which caused tremendous damage around the island.

Ujiki Takeo (宇敷 赳夫/うじき たけお), an architect, who, shortly after his graduation from Nagoya Higher Technical School (名古屋高等工業學校), was commissioned by the Taiwan Governor General’s Office to come to Taiwan to work with the colonial government’s design team. Coincidentally, his father, Ujiki Keiichi (宇敷敬一), came to Taiwan almost a decade earlier, working in various departments prior to the arrival of his son in 1916 (大正5年). During his time in Taiwan, Takeo was shifted around a few times between different departments, working closely with Shinchiku Prefecture (新竹州), Tainan Prefecture (臺南州), and then with the Railway Bureau (鐵道部) as an architect. As noted earlier, Ujiki became an incredibly accomplished architect here in Taiwan, designing some of the era’s most beautiful buildings, several of which remain standing today.

Ujiki’s work, especially the buildings he designed for the railway, differed from the original classic architectural designs reserved for train stations, and instead made use of the European Art Deco architectural style. While not entirely European in design, Ujiki often fused with elements of Japanese style of design, creating what the Taiwan Architectural Society (臺灣建築會誌) referred to at the time as “Modern Revival Style” (近世復興式).

What’s common among the major railway stations that were designed by Ujiki, which most notably include the Third Generation Taihoku Station (第三代臺北驛), Second Generation Tainan Station (第二代臺南驛), and Kagi Station (嘉義驛), the latter two of which remain in operation today, follow his ‘Modern Revival Style’ of design. By the 1930s, the Art Deco style of architectural design had become quite popular throughout Europe and North America, and was a style of design that likely showed up at the right time given the national scars that Japan had endured due to massive earthquakes on the mainland as well as in Taiwan. Buildings constructed in this style were constructed with steel-framed reinforced concrete and were characterized by their clean lines, rectangular forms, with little to no decoration on the facades, which was a stark contrast from the Art Nouveau and Baroque styles that were quite popular with Japanese architects in the early years of the Japanese-era.

In what would have been a stark contrast from what people were used to at the time, the Second Generation Kagi Station was constructed quite faithfully to Art Deco architectural design characteristics. It featured a large box-like main hall, with wings on both its eastern and western sides. The building’s walls were smooth, featured very little in terms of decorative design, and had mostly flat roofs, in what was meant to emphasize classical symmetrical design. While not entirely decorative in nature, the main hall of the station is characterized by its five large arched windows on the front as well as on the rear. Although they do add a decorative element to the building’s design, they’re also quite functional in that they allow for a considerable amount of natural light within the interior of the main hall. Directly above the largest window in the center of the building, you’ll find a clock, which has been part of the building’s design for more than ninety years, and unlike the clock tower that was removed from the historic Taichung Station, its not only still there, but it still works as well.

One of the things you’ll notice about both the entrance to the main hall, and the area where you go through the turnstiles to the platform is it's odd-shape, which is unlike any other railway station in Taiwan. The entrance is not only wide, but it’s also geometrically curved at the top. The border of the entrances features specially-molded curved bricks that were fired in Beitou (北投素燒面磚), which are noticeable, because they are also featured on the edges and borders of the building in the areas where the walls aren’t white washed stone. The combination of the two gives the building its iconic white and orange appearance, which is also quite unique among Taiwan’s railway stations. The clever thing about the shape of the door, with the assistance of the windows, is that during the right time of day, the light that comes in through both the entrance and the windows creates a path of light in the direction of the turnstiles, which if you know anything about the meticulous attention to detail of Japanese architecture, was entirely on purpose.

The interior space of the building is something that has changed considerably over the decades, but as I’ll mention a bit later, now that it has been cleaned up, it has more or less returned to its original interior design. The interior walls are painted with white stucco, which assist in making the space quite bright with the natural light coming in through the windows. The space was set up into different sections with only the Ticket Booth (出札室), a luggage room (赤帽室), and a canteen (賣店) located within the main hall. The western-wing was where you’d find a large Waiting Area (參等待合室), and the area where passengers would exit upon arrival.

The eastern wing, on the other hand, was a little more complicated as it also featured a Waiting Area (壹貳等待合室), but a VIP Waiting Room (特別待合室) that had a special side entrance (特別玄關), and its own special platform gate. It also featured a staff room (給仕室), and public restrooms (用便所與化粧室) for men and women.

Even though the interior design has recently been cleaned up, it’s important to note that there are still considerable differences from the original 1933 design, but that’s to be expected after so many years. The luggage room, for example, was at some point transformed into the ticket booth for the Alishan Forest Railway line, but they’ve since moved it elsewhere, and the area is currently unused. Similarly, the waiting rooms on both the eastern and western wings have been filled. Instead of providing an open space with seating for passengers, the western wing has tourist information booths, and the eastern wing currently has a Family Mart convenience store, which I’m assuming also makes use of the former VIP space as a rear entrance for deliveries.

Space within the Main Hall has remained relatively the same, but the canteen space has been removed, and was originally used for purchasing tickets from machines, but now that the railway allows passengers to swipe in and out using EasyCards, they have been removed and the space is completely open, which is quite nice.

Once you’ve passed through the turnstiles, you’ll have reached the space where I feel like the decorative elements of the station stand out the most. The platform area where you wait for the arrival of your train features an absolutely beautiful network of pillars and trusses that provide passengers with a roof-covered platform waiting area (月台構). What most people don’t actually realize is that this is one area of the station that never really changed in its design since the station first opened in 1933, as you can see compared in the photos below.

The network of pillars and trusses that hold up the canopy have been constructed using the very same rails that are used for the trains, and what’s important to note is that the the curved beams and trusses that hold up the roof were imported directly from Kyushu. Given the age of the station, and the amount of typhoons and earthquakes that have occurred in the decades since, it’s amazing that they have been been able to withstand the test of time the way that they have. If you find yourself at the station, take a minute or two to appreciate the design.

Ultimately, when the Japanese-era came to an end, Chiayi Station went through quite a few changes over the next half century, and I have to admit, on my first visit to the city, the station didn’t leave much of an impression on me. In what has become somewhat of an Internet meme in Taiwan, what happened to the station is similar to what happened to a lot of Taiwan’s other historically significant buildings in that it went through a ‘ROC-Beautification’ (華國美學) process. The jist of the joke is that a bunch of hideous things were added to more or less cover up the original design. If you do a Google search for the station and check out some of the images, you’ll likely be quite surprised at just how sad the station appeared for a few decades, mostly during the years when Chiayi’s economy was in decline.

Fortunately, the city government established the ‘Back to the Future’ program in 2021 prior to the city hosting the Taiwan Design Exhibition (台灣設計展).

Link: Back to the Future!嘉義火車站微改造2.0 重現1933全島第一摩登車站 (Taiwan Design Research Institute)

It was during this time that the decades of modifications were removed, and the ticketing hall was reorganized to restore the building to its original glory. The beautification process not only restored the interior of the station, and removed the hideous concrete that covered up the front of the station, but it also transformed the station front, which used to allow vehicles to drive up pretty close to the main entrance. Now, the square in front of the station has been completely cleaned up, and has also become a lot more pedestrian (and photographer)-friendly.

Getting There

 

Address: #528 Zhongshan Road, Chiayi City (嘉義市中山路528號)

GPS: 23.479436, 120.441055

Whenever I write about one of Taiwan’s historic train stations, obviously the best advice for getting there is to simply take the train. That being said, Chiayi is a pretty popular place, and there are a number of ways to reach the city, without taking the train. Obviously, though, if you want to spend some time checking out the interior space of the station, including the beautiful platform space, you’ll probably want to get on or off the train while in town.

Whether you’re traveling southbound, or northbound, as one of Taiwan’s major railway stations, Chiayi Station is accessible via each of the western trunk line’s express train services as well as the local commuter trains, so matter what train you get on, it’ll make a stop at the station.

High Speed Rail / Bus Rapid Transport

If you arrive in Chiayi via Taiwan’s High Speed Rail, you’ll probably notice that the station is located a fair distance away from the downtown core of the city. Taking the HSR to Chiayi saves a lot of travel time, especially if you’re traveling from Taipei, but once you’ve arrived, you’re going to have to either take a taxi or a bus into town. Fortunately, Chiayi Station is connected to the Chiayi High Speed Railway Station (嘉義高鐵站) through the Chiayi Bus Rapid Transit (嘉義公車捷運), an express bus service that connects the High Speed Rail station to the city.

If you arrive in the area via High Speed Rail, you can easily exit the station to the bus parking area and hop on either bus #7211 or #7212 to get yourself to the downtown core of the city.

Link: Bus #7211 and #7212 schedule (Chiayi City Bureau of Transport)

As one of only three remaining major railway stations from the Japanese-era in operation today, Chiayi Station has a long and storied history, with some pretty great things happening there, but also some pretty sad things as well. Even though the station is just a year years short of celebrating its centennial, the station as we know it today is about to undergo changes similar to what took place in Taichung, and eventually it’ll be retired.

The station is part of a dying breed of Taiwan’s historic public transportation hubs and as the city has developed around it over the past century, with its final breaths, it’ll see the downtown core of the city completely transform when the elevated railway officially starts running. Once that happens, Chiayi Station will be phased out of service, and its role will ultimately change from the city’s most important transportation hub to a place where the history of the city is celebrated for years to come, much like what happened with Taichung Station. So, if you’re interested in checking out this historic station while its still in operation, I highly recommend taking a trip to Chiayi as soon as you can. Obviously, you won’t be disappointed as the city is currently one of the hippest places in Taiwan to visit with a number of great restaurants and coffeeshops!

References

  1. Chiayi railway station | 嘉義車站 中文 | 嘉義駅 日文 (Wiki)

  2. Tainan Prefecture | 臺南州 中文台南州 日文 (Wiki)

  3. Chiayi | 嘉義市 (州轄市) (Wiki)

  4. 宇敷赳夫 中文 | 宇敷赳夫 日本 (Wiki)

  5. 嘉義火車站 (國家文化資產網)

  6. 嘉義火車站 (文化部)

  7. 嘉義車站 (臺灣驛站之旅)

  8. 嘉義車站 (鐵貓)

  9. 林業鐵路歷史介紹 (林業鐵道)

  10. 嘉義火車站 (Wilhelm Chang)

  11. 嘉義火車站空間微改造大變化,減法設計回歸歷史建築的原始美 (微笑台灣)

  12. 2021台灣設計展【02嘉義火車站】微改造!打開古蹟建築的原貌歡迎大家回嘉 (LaVie)

  13. Back to the Future!嘉義火車站微改造2.0 重現1933全島第一摩登車站 (臺灣設計研究院)

  14. 嘉義市市定古蹟嘉義火車站調查研究 (嘉義市文化局)

  15. 日治後期火車站、鐵道大多出自他之手──現代Art Deco風格設計者「宇敷赳夫」(Story Studio)


Taipei Guest House (臺北賓館)

When it comes to my personal time, it’s rare that I ever find myself with nothing to do. Over the years I’ve curated a long list of places to go, things to do, and restaurants and coffee shops to check out. So, no matter where I find myself in Taiwan, I’m never far from somewhere I want to visit.

Something I’ve had to learn the hard way however, is that it is important to confirm that the places I’d like to visit are actually open to the public prior to leaving home. On far too many occasions, I’ve shown up only to find a locked door resulting in disappointment. To solve that from happening, I’ve had to further organize my list based on various factors and variables that most people would likely consider far too obsessive.

At the top of my list, you’ll find some of the nation’s most elusive destinations, and are those that are essentially only open to the public on special occasions - Places such as the Presidential Palace and other historic Japanese-era buildings in Taipei for example, which are currently home to important government offices, are some of the most difficult to check out, and if and when they’re open to the public, advance notice is often required for a permit for my camera gear. That being said, even though it seems like a hassle, when I’m able to check one of these destinations off my list, I rarely ever find myself disappointed.

So, when the opportunity presented itself to make a long-awaited visit to the ‘Taipei Guest House’, I woke up bright and early, hopped on a bus to Taipei, and spent a half day enjoying the absolute beauty of one of Taiwan’s most important heritage sites. Having been at the top of my list for what seemed like years, it’s one of those buildings that is only ever open to the public on special occasions, and unfortunately for me, when it is open, I’m usually stuck at work. That being said, there are (arguably) very few historic buildings in Taiwan that are able to compare to the spectacular architectural beauty of the Guest House, so with the rare opportunity to visit, I made sure to make the most of my time and also made sure to get all of the photos that I needed as I wouldn’t be able to visit again for quite some time.

Given how difficult it is to visit, I probably shouldn’t have been all that surprised to discover that there are very few authoritative resources available regarding the building and it’s history. So when I started the research portion of writing this article, there wasn’t a whole lot to rely on, save for an unusually detailed Wikipedia entry, and the typical information provided by the Ministry of Culture, which maintains open-source documents on most of the nation’s heritage sites.

Most of my go-to resources for the research I do weren’t offering much assistance, so this one required a trip to Taipei to the National Archives for some additional research as well as a trip to the library of Chung Yuan University (中原大學) to check out the work of one of the university’s professors, who has written extensively on the subject. I’m not really complaining though, visiting the archives is one of my favorite things to do as it is a treasure trove of invaluable information.

The Taipei Guest House, which was originally the Governor General of Taiwan’s official mansion, has played an important role throughout history - hosting important dignitaries such as members of the Japanese royal family, in addition to hosting diplomatic receptions and ceremonies for foreign dignitaries. So, for a building of such historic significance, I’m going to attempt to do my best to tell its story, properly and I hope that the photos I took during my visit do it justice.

I’ll start out by detailing the history of the Governor General’s Mansion and it’s architectural design, then move onto it’s post-war role as the Taipei Guest House, and end by offering information about how you can visit as well. By the end, I hope that if didn’t die of boredom reading the article that you’ll be inspired as inspired as I was to visit, when the building is open!   

Taiwan Governor General’s Mansion (臺灣總督官邸)

By 1899 (明治29年), four years into Japan’s occupation of Taiwan, the colonial government had initiated a significant number of urban development projects around the island, hoping to be able to more efficiently bring the island under its control, as well as extracting its rich natural resources. The development projects included public works, a railway, civic buildings, and the reshaping of the towns and villages that would make up Taiwan’s future cities. In the capital, Taihoku, the government had been busy tearing down the Qing-era City Walls, and pretty much anything that stood in the way to make way for the ‘Chokushi Kaido’ (勅使街道 / ちょくしかいどう), otherwise known as the Imperial Road. That road, which is known as Zhongshan North Road (中山北路) today, essentially started in the location where the Governor General’s Mansion was planned to be constructed and went all the way to where the Taiwan Grand Shrine (臺灣神宮 / たいわんじんぐう) would be constructed, all for the purpose of allowing anyone visiting from the royal family to take a direct route from where they were staying to the shrine.

With the construction on the shrine and the mansion meant to start and completed at the same time, the thought was that these two symbols were meant to put Japan’s ‘power’ and ‘modernity’ on display, helping to convince the people of Taiwan that they were better off under the stewardship of the empire. The Governor at the time, General Kodama Gentaro (兒玉源太郎 / こだま げんたろう), who is remembered fondly for his eight year tenure contributing to the improvement of Taiwan’s infrastructure and the general living conditions, argued that the mansion was meant to symbolize the power of the emperor, and that no expense should be spared to ensure that it would be as imposing as it was beautiful.

Financed directly by the Japanese treasury, the high cost of constructing the mansion became a contentious issue back in Tokyo, especially given that some of the funds allocated for the Grand Shrine were being used for the mansion. Thus, Governor General Kodama’s right hand man, Gotō Shinpei (後藤新平 / ごとうしんぺい), who was the head of Taiwan’s Civil Affairs Office (台灣民政長官) at the time, was recalled back to Tokyo to explain personally to the Japanese government.

The mansion from the front gate, what is now the roundabout on Ketagalan Boulevard

While the grilling he received from the Imperial Diet probably wasn’t his idea of a good time, Goto reiterated that the mansion represented the authority of the emperor in Taiwan, and given that few Taiwanese understood Japan’s power and prosperity, the stateliness of the mansion would help to convince them that they were part of something much larger and prosperous than they could have imagined.

Designed by architects Togo Fukuda (福田東吾 / ふくだとうご) and Ichiro Nomura (野村一郎 / .のむら いちろう), who are also credited with quite a few other buildings in Taiwan, the Governor General’s Mansion was completed on Sept. 26, 1901 (明治31年), at a total cost of 217,000 Yen, which is about the equivalent of $2.2 million US dollars today.

Note: Calculating Meiji-era Japanese currency against today’s standards is somewhat of a difficult process given that most records only date back to the restructuring of the Japanese economy, and massive inflation during the post-war period. To calculate the number above, I used the following formula: In 1901, the corporate goods price index was 0.469 where it is currently 698.6, meaning that one yen then is worth 1490 yen now. (217,000 x 1490 = 323,330,000) 昔の「1円」は今のいくら?1円から見る貨幣価値‧今昔物語

Indigenous Taiwanese visiting the Governor-General’s Mansion

As mentioned above, the completion of the mansion was meant to coincide with the consecration of the Taiwan Grand Shrine, with the timing of the completion of both projects important given that ceremonies were planned to be held on the sixth anniversary of Prince Kitashirakawa Yoshihisa’s (北白川宮能久親王) death. Passing away during the conquest of Taiwan in 1895, the prince was enshrined within the Grand Shrine as “Kitashirakawa no Miya Yoshihisa-shinnō no Mikoto”, and his widow Tomiko (島津富子) traveled to Taiwan to take part in the ceremony, officially becoming the first member of the royal family to stay in the mansion.

Link: Taiwan Grand Shrine | 臺灣神宮 (Wiki)

The rear veranda.

Nevertheless, despite the amount of money that was used to construct the mansion, it was built at a time when the Japanese were yet to fully appreciate the awesome power of Taiwan’s termites, so after about a decade, the building had started to show signs of structural instability - This posed a considerable problem for the colonial government as it was not only used as the official residence of the Governor General, but also as his office. Similarly, it was thought that the mansion wasn’t actually designed to accommodate royal visitors, who often traveled with large entourages, which meant that a restoration and expansion project would have to take place to solve these issues.

In 1911 (明治44年), Governor General Sakuma Samata (佐久間左馬太 / さくま さまた), who is credited with introducing baseball to Taiwan a year prior, ordered the restoration and expansion of the mansion and enlisted a superstar architect, Moriyama Matsunosuke (森山松之助 / もりやま まつのすけ) to head up the project. With a budget of 150,000 Yen (approximately $1.5 million USD). The restoration process took two years to complete, and during that time, the Governor General and his family were moved to a temporary residence nearby.

Moriyama converted the exterior of the building from its original neo-renaissance style (新文藝復興樣式) design to a baroque design (新巴洛克形式), and converted the roof into a French-style Mansard design. Likewise, the interior space of the building expanded considerably and no expense was spared with regard to the mansion’s interior design; Imitating French palace design with Victorian floor tiles, fireplaces imported from Europe, rugs, sulk curtains, chandeliers, ornate stucco sculptures and decorations throughout the building.

In terms of the expansion, a total of 978㎡ (296坪) was added to the interior on the second and third floors, 333㎡ (101坪) for the balconies that surrounded the building, 36㎡ (11坪) for the porte-cochère (covered car port at the front of the building), and 19㎡ (6坪) for the dining room.

From 1901 until 1945, the Governor General’s Mansion housed sixteen of the nineteen Governor Generals who ruled over Taiwan during the Japanese-era. While no expense was spared in its renovations, a few short years after the project was completed, Moriyama Matsunosuke’s magnum opus, the iconic Government-General of Taiwan (臺灣總督府廳舍) building, known today as the Presidential Office (總統府), was completed and official government activities shifted from the residence to the massive new building a short distance away.

Link: Governor-General of Taiwan | 臺灣總督 (Wiki)

Nevertheless, the mansion continued to serve a dual-role as an official residence as well as receiving important guests and dignitaries, hosting members of the royal family, and was the ideal location for important government events - the most important of which came in 1923 (大正12年) when it hosted Crown Prince Hirohito (裕仁 / ひろひと) during his tour of Taiwan - just two years prior to ascending the throne as Emperor Showa (昭和天皇).

In 1945 (昭和20年), when the Second World War came to an end, the Japanese empire was forced to relinquish control of Taiwan as per the terms of their surrender. Leaving the island in a far better condition than they found it five decades earlier, the Republic of China took over and the Governor General’s Mansion became the official residence of the Provincial Governor of Taiwan (臺灣省主席). Then, in 1949 (民國38年), when the Chinese Nationalists were forced to retreat to Taiwan, after suffering devastating losses in the Chinese Civil War (國共內戰), they brought with them almost two million refugees, and the situation on the island changed completely.

Renamed the Taipei Guest House (臺北賓館) in 1950 (民國39年), the residence was put under the control of the Presidential Office, although it wasn’t used as one of the dozens of homes that President Chiang Kai-Shek (蔣介石) frequented during the remainder of his life in Taiwan. In 1952, in what could be interpreted as rubbing salt in their wounds, the Sino-Japanese Peace Treaty (中日和平條約), more commonly known as the Treaty of Taipei (台北和約) was signed at the Guest House, which was one of the iconic images of Japanese power in Taiwan, now under the control of the Chinese Nationalists. From then on, the Guest House has been used frequently for affairs of state, and has played host to foreign dignitaries and allies of the Republic of China, who are wined and dined in the historic building.

The building has been restored on two occasions in the post-war era, once in 1977 (民國66年) when the interior was refurbished and then again from 2002 to 2006 (民國90年-95年) after a powerful typhoon made landfall in Taiwan, causing considerable damage. Once the restoration of the building was completed, costing the government an astounding NT$400,000,000 ($13.5 million USD), the Guest House continued in its capacity serving as a venue for hosting state functions, but for the first time in more than a century, it was made available on select occasions for tours, allowing the general public to get a glimpse of the interior for the first time.

Governor General’s Mansion Timeline

  • 1895 - Control of Taiwan is ceded to the Japanese at the end of the First Sino-Japanese war (淸日戰爭).

  • 1895 (明治28年) - A temporary Governor General’s Office is set up within the Qing Dynasty’s Provincial Administration Hall (臺灣布政使司衙門), prior to moving to the ‘Western Learning Hall’ (西學堂), a school constructed by the Qing to study western civilization.

  • 1900 (明治30年) - The first major urban development plan of the Japanese-era is completed for Taipei, and plans are drawn up to simultaneously construct a stately Governor General’s Mansion and the Taiwan Grand Shrine (臺灣神宮 / たいわんじんぐう).

  • 1901 (明治31年) - Construction on the mansion is completed on Sept. 26, and the first person to stay inside was the widow of Prince Kitashirakawa Yoshihisa (北白川宮能久親王), who came to Taiwan to inaugurate the Grand Shrine on the sixth anniversary of her husband’s death.

  • 1911 (明治44年) - Having suffered an incredible amount of structural damage caused by termites, the mansion undergoes a period of expansion and restoration, with famed architect Matsunosuke Moriyama (森山松之助) overseeing the project and resulting in the design of the building that we can enjoy today.

  • 1913 (大正2年) - The restoration and expansion project on the mansion is completed.

  • 1920 (大正9年) - Governmental affairs shifts from offices in the official residence to the newly constructed Government-General of Taiwan (臺灣總督府廳舍 / たいわんそうとくふ), currently the Presidential Office Building (總統府).

  • 1923 (大正12年) - The mansion hosts Crown Prince Hirohito (裕仁 / ひろひと) during his tour of Taiwan, prior to his ascension to the throne as the Showa Emperor (昭和天皇) two years later.

  • 1945 (昭和20年) - The Second World War comes to a conclusion with the formal surrender of the Japanese Empire and control of Taiwan is ambiguously awarded to the Republic of China.

  • 1945 (民國34年) - The mansion becomes home to the Provincial Governor of Taiwan (臺灣省主席) for a short period of time.

  • 1949 (民國38年) - Facing defeat in the Chinese Civil War (國共內戰), a massive retreat is ordered by the Kuomintang, and millions of Chinese refugees are brought to Taiwan.

  • 1950 (民國39年) - The mansion is turned over to the Presidential Office (總統府) and is officially converted into the Taipei Guest House (臺北賓館).

  • 1952 (民國41年) - The Treaty of Taipei (台北和約) is signed by representatives of the post-war Japanese Government and the Republic of China, formally ending the hostilities of the Second World War.

  • 1963 (民國52年) - The Guest House is formally lent to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in order to facilitate the entertainment of foreign guests and dignitaries visiting Taiwan at state functions.

  • 1977 (民國66年) - The interior of the building is restored by the government.

  • 1998 - The Taipei Guest House is designated as a National Monument (國定古蹟), one of the highest levels of recognition awarded to heritage buildings under the current government system.

  • 2001 (民國90年) - A considerable amount of structural damage to the building, likely as a result of Typhoon Toraji (颱風桃芝), forces the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to shut the building down.

  • 2002 - 2006 (民國91年-95年) - The Taipei Guest House enters a four year long period of restoration that costs about NT$400,000,000 ($13.5 million USD).

  • 2006 (民國91年) - After more than a century, the Taipei Guest House is opened up for the enjoyment of the public, however, only on very select occasions as it continues to serve as the venue for hosting state functions.

Now that I’ve gone through the history of the building, I’m going to spend some time describing it’s architectural design, which is quite significant given the age and importance of the building.

First though, as a show of respect for one of my favorite local writers, Han Cheung’s article about the mansion in the Taipei Times is probably one of the best English-language articles about the building that you’ll find, so I recommend giving it a read at some point.

Link: Taiwan in Time: An extravagant colonial palace (Han Cheung / Taipei Times)

Architectural Design

The architectural design of the building is a tale that is told in two different chapters, namely the extravagant ‘first generation’ design, and the ostentatious ‘second generation’ design, which built upon what came before it. Touching on its designers earlier, it’s important to repeat that the mansion, completed in 1901, was the brainchild of Togo Fukuda and Ichiro Nomura, a pair of accomplished architects who designed a fair number of the earlier buildings constructed during the Japanese-era. Building upon his predecessors work, Moriyama Matsunosuke, a man who I personally consider one of Taiwanese history’s most prolific architects, swooped in and made the sweeping changes to the building’s design, which also helped to ensure its longevity, and is one of the reasons why we’re able to continue enjoying it today.

Note: I’m pretty sure that not everyone pays as much attention to these things as I do, but if we take a look at the work of Moriyama, many of the iconic buildings he designed are still standing and in operation today, including the Taichung Prefectural Hall (台中州廳), the Monopoly Bureau (専売局), the Taipei Prefectural Hall (台北州廳), Tainan Prefectural Hall (台南州廳), the Taipei Railway Bureau (台北鐵道部), the Taipei Aqueduct (臺北水道水源地) and the Presidential Office (總統府).

First Generation Governor-General’s Mansion (第一代總督官邸)

First-Generation Mansion from the front.

As previously mentioned, there are some very noticeable differences in the design of the first generation mansion, and what came later. In both cases however, the architects sought to mimic the architectural design that was popular in Europe at the time. The first generation mansion designed by Togo Fukuda and Ichiro Nomura adhered to the ‘Neo-Renaissance’ style of design popularized in France and inspired by Italian architects. The end result was a building characterized by its rectangular and circular decorative elements on the exterior of the building. Staying true to the revival-style design, the building featured a rectangular main-wing in the center with asymmetrical wings on both the left and right. It also adhered to what is known as ‘flat classicism’ in that the exterior walls feature very few decorative elements, placing greater importance on proportion, harmony, and linear symmetry.

One of the questionable aspects of the ‘asymmetry’ of the wings however. was that the original western wing was a flat square section that prominently featured a dome, one of the important aspects of European architectural design that made a comeback with the revival style. The eastern-wing meanwhile was concave in design, and instead of a dome, featured a roof-covered balcony, with an almost 360 degree view of the area surrounding the mansion.

The two-story residence was constructed using a mixture of brick and stone with wooden roof trusses in the ceiling, helping to keep the roof in place. Surrounded on all sides by covered verandas, the one area where you’d find curved arched spaces in the design.

The usage of the interior space was unlike what you’d expect from a traditional Japanese-style mansion in that only the east-wing of the second floor was reserved as the private residence of the Governor-General and his family, while the first floor was home to a reception lobby, administration office, meeting rooms, a banquet hall, and a game room.

Where much of the beauty of the original design came into focus was within the interior where there was beautifully laid parquet flooring and stucco columns located throughout the building that played both functional and decorative roles. Given that the mansion was meant to imitate that of a European palace, the interior also featured beautiful chandeliers, silk curtains, and many other imported decorative elements.

Finally, one of the lasting design elements of the building were the gardens that surrounded the building, featuring European-style gardens in the front and a Japanese-style garden to the rear.

Unfortunately, almost all of the remaining photos of the first generation mansion were taken of the exterior, so describing the beauty of the interior design is something that can only be done through the interpretation of historic records.

Second Generation Governor-General’s Mansion (第二代總督官邸)

In what one could assume was simply a natural progression from the Renaissance-Revival architectural style of the first generation version of the mansion, architect Moriyama Matsunosuke completely redesigned the mansion into a style more commonly associated with what is known as either Neo-Baroque, or Baroque-Revival, a style which would become quite prominent in both Taiwan and Japan in the early 20th century.

Possibly taking inspiration from Tokyo’s Akasaka Palace (迎賓館赤坂離宮 / げいひんかんあかさかりきゅう), one of the Japanese government’s two current official state guest houses, Moriyama’s alterations to the building were decorative in nature, but also practical in that his work ensured the longevity of the building’s structural health. The project got underway in 1911 when then Governor General Sakuma Samata ordered the restoration and expansion of the mansion, and during the two years that it took to complete, the Governor-General and his office vacated the residence.

Moriyama’s vision threw out all of the straight lines and the ‘flatness’ of the original and replaced them with curvaceousness and an array of rich surface treatments carved into the facade of the building. The most noticeable differences can be found in the center of the main wing of the building where Moriyama completely redesigned the roof, windows and the second-floor balcony. Most notably, within the triangular section between the upper part of the balcony and the third floor, the once empty section features some pretty important carvings. Displaying the official logo used during the Japanese-era to signify Taiwan, an important part of the stamp that signified the office of the Governor-General. Likewise, in all of the flat empty sections of space above and below the windows, decorative elements were added to show off the ‘flowing nature’ of baroque architectural design.

Given that Taiwan’s termites were having a wonderful time with the wood used to construct the building, having learned their lesson the hard way, Japanese architects came up with methods to solve these problems. In this case, Moriyama replaced the original wooden roof trusses in the building with steel trusses and converted the roof into a two-sloped Mansard-style design, a style common among the architecture of French palaces. In this case, the roof allowed for circular dormer windows (ox-eye 牛眼窗), a favorite of Japanese architects at the time, but more importantly, these changes allowed for the construction of a third floor, increase in the interior space of the building.

Link: Mansard Roof (Wiki)

With 978㎡ (296坪) of floor space added to the mansion during the expansion, design of the interior space likewise required a considerable amount of attention, and with a budget that was nearly half of the original cost of construction, no expense was spared. When the project was completed, the mansion would have appeared similar to what you’d expect from a typical French palace. Featuring stucco sculptures, columns, stained glass windows and beautiful white walls mixed featuring golden mosaics and carvings throughout the interior.

I’m not exaggerating when I say that my experience walking through the mansion was similar to walking through parts of the Vatican. I felt like I was transported back to my travels through Europe, which isn’t a feeling you often get while visiting historic buildings in Taiwan. I suppose that shouldn’t be particularly surprising though, given that these decorative elements are all indicative of Baroque design. Exploring the second floor, especially, it should be quite easy to see why with all of the flowing golden arches and the network of pillars that you’ll see in each of the rooms open for the tour.

Another important aspect of the restoration project that should be mentioned was to add a bit of modern technology was added to the building, included retrofitting for modern lighting and central heating systems. I’m not particularly sure why a heating system was necessary given Taiwan’s climate, but in addition to central heating, seventeen fireplaces were imported from Europe along with rugs, silk curtains, chandeliers and Victorian floor tiles to complete the redesign.   

Having experienced and enjoyed Moriyama’s work in a few of Taiwan’s other historic Japanese-era buildings, it’s easy to see why he was chosen to be the designer of so many of the colonial government’s most important construction projects. The legacy that he’s left here in Taiwan is one that we’re fortunately able to continue enjoying more than a century after he hopped on a boat and headed back to Japan.

Link: The helmsman who shaped the style of Taipei City (Shelley Shan / Taipei Times)

Interestingly, despite his love of European Baroque revivalist design, when Moriyama returned to Japan in 1921, he took on an assignment designing the ‘Imperial Pavilion’ at Shinjuku Gyo-en National Garden (新宿御苑 / しんじゅくぎょえん), dedicated to the Showa Emperor. The pavilion, which is now regarded as the “Taiwan Pavilion” was constructed using Taiwanese cypress and traditional red clay bricks, took inspiration from traditional Taiwanese architectural design, an obvious nod to his years here.

Visiting the Taipei Guest House (臺北賓館)

After more than a century, tours of the Taipei Guest House opened to the public in 2006, just after the building had finished being restored. Having entered an era of democratic openness and transparency, I imagine it’s only understandable that the government couldn’t very well justify spending so much money restoring a building that so few of the nation’s taxpayers would ever be able to enjoy.

Starting from June 4th, 2006, the Guest House was set to be open to the public on the first Sunday of even months, essentially making it available to the public six days a year. However, over the decade since tours started, the number of days that the building is available has slightly increased, but the availability of these tours depends on the annual schedule of events taking place within the building.

So, even though it is supposed to be open on certain weekends, depending on whether or not any state functions are taking place, you might end up being a little disappointed if you try to visit without checking beforehand.

Suffice to say, with Taiwan closing its borders during the COVID-19 pandemic, the building was open for tours more often than in previous years, but there is no indication as to whether or not this will become the norm in years to come as the world opens back up for tourism. Additionally, given the number of international policy makers finding their way to Taiwan as of late, it’s only understandable that the number of official events taking place at the mansion will increase, which means that the number of public tours will decline.

If you would like to visit the Guest House, it’s important that you pay close attention to the yearly calendar of openings on the Ministry of Foreign Affairs official website, which is linked below:

Link: Open House Schedule | 假日開放參觀

I caution you however that Taiwanese Government Websites are notorious for randomly disappearing, so if either of the links provided above aren’t working, I recommend heading over to Google and typing “Taipei Guest House” or “台北賓館” where you’ll likely find whatever new website they’ve started using in addition to the schedule of open houses for the year.

A tip that you may find helpful is that whenever the Guest House is officially open for public tours, the Presidential Office is as well, so if you’re feeling ambitious, you might be able to enjoy a tour of both buildings on the same day, although for someone like me, I’d find it far too difficult.

While touring the building, you’ll be able to walk around the open areas freely, but there are quite a few sections of the building, and the gardens, which are off-limits to guests. You’ll notice that there are volunteers watching at all times to make sure you don’t stray off into an area where you’re not welcome. Similarly, if you’re carrying a lot of photo gear, it’s important to remember that flash photography is prohibited within the building, and you’re also not permitted to use a tripod.

Interestingly, if you break any of the guidelines set for visits, it’s likely that you’ll be asked to leave immediately, which will also result in a two year ban - So try to be on your best behavior!

Getting There

 

Address: (臺北市中正區凱達格蘭大道1號)

GPS: 25.039810, 121.515870

Located within the heart of the governing district of the capital, the Taipei Guest House is situated a short distance from the Presidential Office (總統府), the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall (中正紀念堂), the East Gate (景福門) and the 228 Peace Memorial Park (二二八和平公園). Similarly, it is within walking distance of several of Taipei’s MRT stations, so getting there should be relatively straight forward.

While the Guest House is located closest to the NTU Hospital MRT Station (台大醫院捷運站), you could also elect to walk a short distance from either Taipei Main Station (台北車站), Ximen Station (西門捷運站) or Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall Station (中正紀念堂捷運站). For most people however, the chance to visit the Guest House is one of those things where you won’t want to waste too much time on a walking tour of the capital, so your best option is to make your way directly to the NTU Hospital station and take either Exit 1 or Exit 2 where you’ll walk a short distance along Gongyuan Road (公園路) to the front gate on the corner of Gongyuan and Ketagalen Boulevard (凱達格蘭大道).

Bus

As far as I’m concerned, the MRT is probably your best method of getting to the Guest House, but there are quite a few people who swear by Taipei’s excellent public bus system, so if you’re one of them, you’re in luck as you are afforded a number of options in this respect given that it is located next to one of the city’s most important hospitals. You’ll find that there are a number of bus stops within walking distance, but I’m only going to provide the bus routes for the closest bus stop to save both myself and yourself some time.

NTU Hospital MRT Station Bus Stop (捷運台大醫院站): 2, 5, 18, 20, 37, 222, 241, 243, 245, 249, 251, 295, 513, 604, 621, 640, 644, 648, 651, 656670, 706, 835, 938  East 0, 信義幹線, 仁愛幹線

Click on any of the links above for the route map and real-time information for each of the buses. If you haven’t already, I recommend using the Taipei eBus website or downloading the “台北等公車” app to your phone, which will help you map out your trip.

Link: Bus Tracker (臺北等公車) - Apple | Android

Youbike

If you’ve decided to ride one of the city’s popular Youbike’s to the Guest House, you’re in luck as there are Youbike docking stations located near the NTU Hospital MRT Station exit, where you can dock your bike and then walk over to the Guest House. You can also find additional docking stations on either side of the East Gate as well as along the entrance to Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall.

If you haven’t already, I highly recommend downloading the Youbike App to your phone so that you’ll have a better idea of the location where you’ll be able to find the closest docking station.

Links: Youbike - Apple / Android

The Taipei Guest House has hosted princes and princesses to presidents, prime ministers, etc. - As one of Taipei’s most important destinations for state functions, the stately mansion has played host to countless events over the past one hundred and twenty years, and will continue to serve an important role for marketing Taiwan to the rest of the world.

Now that we, the little people, are able to enjoy a taste of the Guest House, it’s become a pretty popular tourist destination, especially for domestic tourists. If you’re in Taiwan and you have the chance to visit, you should probably take the opportunity to enjoy a tour. It’s highly recommend however that anyone wanting to visit pay close attention to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs website (linked above), which provides the list of dates on the annual visitation schedule, so that you don’t miss out.

References

  1. Taipei Guest House | 台北賓館 (Wiki)

  2. Taipei Guest House | 台北賓館 (Ministry of Foreign Affairs / 外交部)

  3. Taipei Guest House (Digital Taiwan)

  4. 臺北賓館 (國家文化資產網)

  5. 台北賓館:不曾被遺忘的華麗建築 (公共電視台 異人的足跡)

  6. 國定古蹟台北賓館調查研究/原台灣總督官邸 (黃俊銘)

  7. Taiwan in Time: An extravagant colonial palace (Han Cheung / Taipei Times)

  8. Lafayette East Asia Image Collection (Historic Photos)