“Family Travel Is The Art Of Turning Ordinary Streets Into Extraordinary Memories.”
In March, the four of us will embark on a journey to Taiwan, carrying with us the lightness of spring and the shared joy of discovery. This adventure promises not only leisurely days but also tables filled with flavors that linger in memory—each meal a celebration, each pause a chance to savor.
Our nights will unfold between Beitou and Taipei, two destinations with distinct rhythms yet equally rich in charm. Beitou, with its soothing hot springs and quiet allure, invites us to slow down and breathe deeply. Taipei, vibrant and ever-awake, offers the pulse of city life—streets alive with food stalls, laughter, and endless wanderings.
Together, these moments will weave a tapestry of treasured experiences: the laughter of companionship, the comfort of rest, and the thrill of exploration. It will be a journey not just across places, but into memories we’ll carry long after spring has passed.
Beitou
Beitou, nestled at the foot of Yangmingshan, is Taipei’s famed hot spring district and a place where history, nature, and culture intertwine. Its name comes from the indigenous Ketagalan word Kipatauw, meaning “witch,” inspired by the geothermal steam rising from the valley. During the Japanese colonial era in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Beitou was transformed into a hot spring resort, with bathhouses, inns, and cultural institutions that still shape its identity today. Officially incorporated as a district of Taipei in 1968, Beitou is now over half a century old in its modern form, yet its heritage stretches back much further. Today, it remains the home of hot springs, with everything from public baths to luxury resorts, alongside temples, markets, and family‑run eateries. The district’s charm lies in this blend—soaking in sulphur‑rich waters, wandering past Japanese‑era architecture, and savoring street food—all under the shadow of Yangmingshan’s green slopes. It is both a retreat and a neighborhood, timeless yet alive with everyday life.
JBG Hot Spring Resort Hotel (嘉賓閣溫泉會館)
This is one of Beitou’s long‑established hot‑spring accommodations, blending decades of history with the convenience of being just a short walk from Xinbeitou MRT Station.
It originally began as one of the early hot‑spring inns in the area and has evolved over more than 70 years into a modern, comfortable resort while still retaining the atmosphere of Beitou’s classic spa culture.
Rooms
Superior Rooms are generally larger than the standard doubles, offering more breathing room for luggage, relaxation, and movement.
The rooms have been updated over the years - clean lines, warm lighting, and a comfortable, uncluttered atmosphere.
Every room comes with its own private hot‑spring tub, and that simple luxury is exactly why we chose Beitou as our base for the first part of the trip. It gives us a quiet, restorative place to return to each day — a chance to soak, unwind, and ease into the rhythm of Taiwan before continuing our journey.
White Sulphur Soak – Healing in Private
One of the most memorable luxuries of our stay was the private in‑room hot spring tub, filled with the famed white sulphur waters of Beitou. Unlike ordinary baths, this mineral‑rich water carries a soft milky hue and a faint, earthy fragrance that instantly signals its natural origins.
Sliding into the warmth, you feel the water embrace you—not just as comfort, but as therapy. For him, recovering from a toe fracture, the soak was more than relaxation; it was a gentle balm, easing stiffness and encouraging circulation. For me, with hives that flare on and off, the mineral touch felt soothing, calming the skin and quieting irritation. It’s not a cure, but it is a reprieve, a reminder of how nature can restore balance in subtle ways.
The beauty of having this tub in our own room is the freedom it gives. No crowds, no schedules—just the two of us, lingering as long as we wish. Morning dips awaken the body, while evening soaks dissolve the day’s fatigue. The steam rises, the water cradles, and the silence becomes part of the therapy.
POV 1: White sulphur and yellow sulphur hot springs differ mainly in appearance and intensity. White sulphur springs, like those in Beitou, are milky and gentle, with a softer scent and a soothing feel on the skin—ideal for relaxation, easing muscle tension, and calming irritation. Yellow sulphur springs take on a yellowish tint when sulphur levels are higher or mixed with minerals like iron; they smell stronger and feel more stimulating, often linked to hotter geothermal activity. In short, white sulphur is the gentler, restorative soak, while yellow sulphur signals a more potent, invigorating bath.
POV 2
My Pandora bracelet changed because the white sulphur hot spring water reacted with the metal. Sulphur is highly reactive, especially with silver and plated alloys, and when combined with heat it speeds up oxidation. That’s why the bracelet now shows those iridescent shades of bronze, purple, and blue—it’s essentially a patina formed by sulphur compounds bonding to the surface. But it is not damaged actually, and I managed to polish back to original colour after the trip.
Breakfast
The dining room at JBG Hot Spring Resort is designed as a single, welcoming space that serves as the heart of the hotel’s culinary experience.
There is only one restaurant here, but it fulfills multiple roles with elegance and warmth.
Each morning, guests gather for a daily breakfast, where the layout is simple yet practical: tables arranged to encourage both privacy and casual conversation, with natural light filtering in to create a relaxed start to the day. In the afternoon, the same space transforms into a venue for complimentary high tea, offered to all guests as part of the resort’s hospitality.
The crew are consistently polite and attentive, moving gracefully between tables and ensuring that every guest feels cared for. The atmosphere is intimate rather than grand, emphasizing comfort and friendliness over formality, which makes the dining room feel like an extension of the resort’s hot spring retreat.
The morning spread offers a thoughtful balance of Taiwanese comfort and light Western touches—warm porridge with savory side dishes, fluffy steamed buns, eggs, crisp vegetables, noodles, and a few simple pastries or breads.
Guests often remark that the food feels fresh and uncomplicated, the kind of breakfast that gently eases you into the day rather than overwhelming you.
Tea, coffee, and juices are always on hand, and the dining area carries a calm, unhurried atmosphere that pairs beautifully with a morning soak.
The selection isn’t vast, but it is sufficient—after all, this is Taiwan, and one must always leave room for more food adventures later in the day.
It’s exactly the kind of breakfast that Mr. and Mrs. Lee delighted in. For us Hokkiens, it felt familiar yet refreshing, a morning ritual that spoke both to heritage and to the joy of travel.
Soya milk with youtiao is often considered one of Taiwan’s most soulful breakfasts, but at JBG the rendition falls short. If you’re truly enthusiastic about this classic pairing, it’s worth doing a little homework and seeking out a local eatery beyond the hotel for a more authentic experience.
Our second breakfast here serves us fried bee hoon which is a common breakfast choice in Singapore. The taste of this bee hoon is bolder and much flavoured... a little much salty actually...
When we are here for our third breakfast, we noticed that Mrs Lee looks great today after a good soak of sulphur last night.
The third breakfast here serves us fried rice and fried eggs with tomatoes. The fried rice is rather nice and fried eggs with tomatoes is pretty a good match.
Finally, we came to the last day here, our last breakfast in Beitou as we are heading to stay in the town. It's bee hoon again today and the taste is not as heavy as the day before.
Afternoon Tea
One of the unexpected delights of our stay was the hotel’s complimentary daily high tea. Each guest is served a charming set: a slice of cake, a refreshing mango jelly dessert, and a piece of pineapple biscuit—a trio that feels both indulgent and distinctly Taiwanese.
Overall, the environment feels like a gentle retreat tucked inside the city, offering both convenience and a sense of escape — exactly what most travelers seek when choosing Beitou as their base.
Beyond the set, a mini buffet awaits, inviting everyone to help themselves freely. The spread isn’t grand, but it is wonderfully comforting: chips for a casual crunch, steaming soup and porridge for warmth, soft buns, ice‑cream for a sweet chill, and even a DIY waffle station where you can press and pour to your heart’s content.
The high tea session on our next day turned out to be a simple yet charming affair, focused entirely on the cake set. Though modest in offering, it carried a quiet elegance—small slices of cake presented with care, inviting us to slow down and savor the sweetness after a day of wandering through Beitou.
What made it special was not extravagance but the atmosphere: the dining room’s calm, the polite attentiveness of the crew, and the sense of pause it provided.
After exploring the town earlier, this high tea became a gentle interlude, a place to sit back, refresh, and let the day’s impressions settle.
It was less about indulgence and more about creating a moment of relaxation, perfectly in tune with the resort’s spirit of retreat.
It was still the cake set that we sought after for our last high tea in Beitou, and though simple, it carried a quiet charm that made the experience memorable.
The presentation was neat and inviting—small slices of cake with a delicate sweetness, the kind that encourages you to slow down and savor each bite.
Hotel's Environment
The hotel sits directly across from Beitou Park, with the iconic Beitou Library just steps away. Surrounded by tall pine trees, the setting feels calm and green, while the ever‑present scent of sulphur reminds you that this is hot spring country—rising not only from the baths but even from vapors escaping the ground and sewage channels. Convenience is close at hand too: a cluster of eateries, cafés, massage shops, supermarkets, and a 7‑Eleven line the nearby streets, making daily needs easy to reach. Best of all, Xinbeitou Station is less than a five‑minute walk away, connecting you effortlessly to the rest of Taipei.
24 Eatery
We found ourselves at AKA 24小吃店, a humble 24‑hour eatery that serves everything from breakfast to late‑night suppers.
Officially, this was our very first meal in Taiwan, and with the drizzle outside, we couldn’t have chosen a better spot for dinner.
Just a short six‑minute walk from our hotel, the shop offers a straightforward menu of local favorites—nothing fancy, just honest Taiwanese comfort food.
Each of us ordered a bowl of 肉焿饭, a rice soup served piping hot, rich with umami, and deeply satisfying. The warmth of the broth seemed to travel straight to our stomachs, bringing comfort against the cool, damp evening.
To accompany it, we picked a few side dishes: braised pig skin, braised intestines, and other small plates that rounded out the meal with texture and flavor.
It wasn’t extravagant, but it was exactly what we needed—simple, hearty, and full of local character. More than just food, it was a happy meal shared together, marking the start of our Taiwan journey with warmth and contentment.
After indulging in a hearty meal that left our stomachs content, the gateway to Beitou unfolded just ahead of us. The pace here immediately felt different—gentler, less hurried than the bustling heart of Taipei.
The streets were lined with low-rise shophouses, their modest façades carrying a quiet charm. Neon signs flickered to life as dusk settled, casting a colorful glow across the narrow lanes.
Though reminiscent of the city’s vibrant lights, Beitou’s version felt more intimate, less overwhelming, as if the district whispered rather than shouted.
The air carried a subtle calm, inviting us to slow down and take in the blend of tradition and modernity that defined this corner of Taipei.
Guandu Temple(關渡宮)
One of Taipei’s oldest and most venerated sanctuaries, first built in 1712 and dedicated to Mazu, the goddess of the sea. Stepping into its courtyard is like crossing into more than three centuries of living history.
The temple’s carved dragon pillars, painted beams, and incense‑filled halls carry the weight of countless prayers offered by locals and pilgrims alike. When we visited, the atmosphere felt timeless—faith and tradition woven into every stone and sculpture, reminding us that this riverside temple has long been a place where people pause to honor Mazu and seek her protection.
The opera stage dazzles with color and detail—dragons curling across the roof, bright patterns of gold, red, and green, and a painted backdrop of mountains and water. Red lanterns and bold inscriptions add to the festive atmosphere, making the stage feel alive with tradition and performance.
The temple building is a striking showcase of traditional Chinese artistry. Its entrance is framed by gray stone walls carved with intricate patterns and animal motifs, each detail etched with precision.
Above, the roofline bursts with color—ceramic dragons, phoenixes, and mythological figures perched along the green‑tiled eaves, their forms alive with movement. Golden inscriptions gleam on the pillars, catching the sunlight and adding a sense of reverence.
The craftsmanship is elaborate yet harmonious, blending stone, wood, and ceramic into a vivid tapestry of faith and culture.
Standing before it, you feel the weight of centuries of devotion, as if every carving and painted tile carries the prayers of generations.
Together, these elements create not just a temple, but a living gallery of faith, where artistry and spirituality intertwine to honor Mazu and the countless pilgrims who have passed through its gates.
The large incense burner is a centerpiece of traditional temple architecture, both functional and symbolic. Rising like a pagoda, it’s built in tiers with brightly colored roofs edged by dragons and mythological motifs. The base is carved with swirling clouds and fierce dragon reliefs, while golden inscriptions gleam across its panels, marking it as a sacred vessel. When incense is lit, smoke drifts upward through the ornate tiers, carrying prayers skyward
The temple roof is a vivid spiral of color and craft—red, gold, blue, and green beams carved with floral and geometric motifs, gilded figures circling the light above. A teal plaque with golden calligraphy hangs below, framed in red and gold, completing the sense of grandeur.
The corridor is lined with vivid reliefs of figures and animals, stone panels etched with deities, and a ceiling painted with dragons and floral motifs. Polished stone floors and wooden benches add calm to the richly decorated passage.
The Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea (八仙過海)—a beloved Taoist legend. Each immortal is shown with their distinctive attributes: gourds, fans, scrolls, or staffs, symbols of their unique powers. Together they ride the waves, not with boats but with their own magical abilities, embodying the idea that every path to transcendence is different. The cranes soaring above and the swirling clouds add grace to the scene, making the panel feel alive with myth and movement.
Overhead, beams and rafters' glow with richly painted motifs—floral scrolls, celestial patterns, and auspicious symbols—layered in colors that have endured centuries of incense and prayer.
A pretty resting spot—a tiered pagoda with red pillars, gold accents, and lanterns swaying beneath its ornate eaves. Amid the urban setting, it offers shade and calm, a graceful pause in the city’s rhythm.
Koi glide through the water in flashes of orange and gold, while a moss‑covered sculpture of a dragon entwined around a turtle rises at the center. The turtle symbolizes longevity, the dragon power, and together they embody harmony. Around the pond, stone borders and temple steps frame the scene, making it feel like a living tableau of nature and myth—peaceful, symbolic, and quietly beautiful.
This is a wishing well, a place where visitors pause to pray and cradle a coin in their hands as they whisper a hope or desire. With a gentle motion, the coin is cast toward the “pocket” marked by the red sun. Should it land inside, tradition says the wish will be granted. If it misses, the belief is simple yet encouraging—we must strive harder, keep faith, and try again.
This modest sub-shrine serves as a threshold, guiding us into a dimly lit tunnel steeped in layers of Buddhist and Taoist devotion. Along its passage, altars glow softly with offerings, incense curling upward in quiet reverence. The tunnel eventually descends into a basement chamber, where several other deities are enshrined, each corner carrying its own aura of solemnity and faith. It feels less like a simple walkway and more like a spiritual journey, leading us deeper into the heart of belief.
The sign is reminding visitors to keep the shrine quiet and to refrain from practices like spiritual writing practices inside the temple.
矮仔財滷肉飯
There is no English name for this humble eatery so I call it "Shorty Cai Braised Pork Rice" is a legendary stall in Beitou Market, with a history stretching back more than four decades.
Its name, “矮仔財” (literally “Shorty Cai”), comes from the founder’s nickname, and over time the stall has become synonymous with one of Taipei’s most iconic comfort foods—滷肉飯, braised pork rice.
The continuity of the brand crossed through three generations is what makes it truly special. Each bowl of braised pork rice and each serving of pork trotter carries not only the depth of long‑simmered sauces but also the weight of family heritage.
When we finally reached the front, the sight of glistening braised meats and bubbling pots heightened our anticipation. We ordered four bowls of braised pork rice and a set of pork trotter, then were swiftly shown to a table. The food arrived quickly, and payment was settled immediately, leaving us free to savor the meal.
It’s more than just food preparation; it’s a symphony of motion and aroma. The chef orchestrates the flames, ladles, and sizzling pans with practiced precision, transforming raw ingredients into dishes that radiate comfort and indulgence. The large pots of broth, the glossy sauces, and the trays of braised meats all speak of patience and skill, each recipe carrying layers of tradition.
A tray of richly braised pork hocks, glossy and caramelized from slow cooking. The deep brown sheen suggests hours of patient simmering in a savory sauce, with the meat tender enough to fall apart. Placed on a wooden board in a kitchen setting, the dish embodies traditional comfort food, hearty and indulgent, ready to be served to hungry diners.
The pork trotter was equally impressive—soft, gelatinous, and deeply infused with the stew, every mouthful offering a mix of tender meat and silky collagen. Together, the dishes embodied the essence of Taiwanese braised cuisine: hearty, aromatic, and irresistibly satisfying.
The braised pork rice was superb: the sauce, often called “black gold,” clung to each grain of rice, rich and savory yet balanced, with a gentle sweetness that rounded out the flavor.
The pork itself was tender, melting into the rice with each bite, creating a harmony of texture and taste.
POV: It opens from 0700 - 1300hrs only, and it is close on Monday and Thursday.
Stall B184
While queuing for braised pork rice, Mr. Lee struck up a conversation with some locals who tipped us off about a humble stall further inside the market. Identified only by its number, B184, the stall specializes in handmade traditional Chinese cakes, with a small window dedicated to freshly prepared mochi.
Mrs. Lee chose a taro mochi, while I opted for coconut, each priced at just NTD 20. Her taro was wrapped in a delicate skin that yielded softly to the bite, revealing a fragrant, generously filled center that carried the natural sweetness of the root. Mine was equally delightful—the mochi’s exterior was dusted with fine coconut shreds, giving it a gentle texture and aroma even before tasting. Inside, the filling was abundant, moist, and aromatic, with a subtle richness that paired beautifully with the tender chew of the glutinous rice skin.
These simple handmade treats, served from such an unassuming stall, felt like hidden gems of Beitou Market—humble in appearance yet brimming with flavor and authenticity, the kind of discovery that makes wandering through local markets so rewarding.
POV: The mochi's shelf life is until the end of the day.
Beitou Market(北投中繼市場)
The current Beitou Market is the temporary home of Beitou’s traditional market, established in late 2022 after the old building was deemed unsafe and slated for reconstruction.
Located along 磺港路, directly opposite the original site, the interim market offers a cleaner, brighter, and more organized environment while still preserving the lively atmosphere of a neighborhood hub.
Inside, the market is divided into zones: fresh produce, seafood, household goods, and a bustling food stalls.
The air is filled with the mingling scents of braised dishes, handmade snacks, and freshly brewed drinks, while vendors—many of whom have been here for decades—carry on their craft with the same dedication as before.
Though temporary, the market embodies continuity and resilience, ensuring that Beitou’s culinary and cultural traditions remain accessible until the new permanent market is completed in the coming years.
陳季炸雞 北投店
Another highlight of Beitou’s food scene is the legendary fried chicken stall, a decades‑old neighborhood favorite that began in the local markets before expanding.
Known for its crispy chicken wings and the long queues that form daily, it has earned a loyal following thanks to its affordable prices and freshly fried snacks.
The atmosphere is unmistakably street‑food in spirit—casual, bustling, and filled with the irresistible aroma of frying chicken, with crowds gathering to grab quick bites often paired with tea from nearby shops.
Later, when we ordered, the flavors spoke for themselves: the deep‑fried squid balls, the chicken nuggets and the sweet potato friesThe chicken nuggets are all about comfort and ease. Lightly battered for a gentle crunch, they stay juicy inside, making each bite satisfying without being heavy. Perfect for those who prefer boneless bites, they’re simple, flavorful, and ideal for snacking while wandering Beitou’s lively streets.
The deep‑fried squid balls at are one of those snacks that perfectly balance texture and flavor. Their crisp, golden shell gives a satisfying crunch the moment you bite in, then yields to a tender, almost bouncy center that carries the savory essence of squid.
The sweet potato fries (地瓜薯條) are a star attraction. They come out of the fryer golden and crisp, the surface crackling lightly before giving way to a soft, naturally sweet interior. Sometimes they’re sprinkled with plum powder, a tangy lift that dances against the sweetness and makes each bite playful and addictive.
It’s the kind of snack that doesn’t just satisfy—it sparks joy. Mrs Lee’s reaction captures that perfectly: going “crazy” over them, insisting on a photo, wanting to preserve the moment as much as the flavor. That mix of crunch, sweetness, and tart plum dusting isn’t just food—it’s memory-making, the kind of treat that turns a casual stop into a highlight of the day.
蔡家紅茶館
Another favorite in Beitou, a welcoming spot that has earned a loyal following for its old‑style red tea and refreshing fruit drinks, making it the perfect neighbor to the fried chicken stall when you’re craving something to balance out the richness of street snacks. While not as ancient as some century‑old tea houses, it carries the charm of an old‑brand style shop thanks to its dedication to traditional flavors and oversized servings at wallet‑friendly prices. The atmosphere is casual and friendly, often with the young owner herself behind the counter, serving drinks with a smile.
Xinbeitou Historic Station
The pavilion is actually a public the Hand Onsen (手湯), a charming spot located right in front of Xinbeitou Historic Station. Instead of a full hot spring bath, it’s designed for visitors to dip their hands into the warm mineral water, offering a quick taste of Beitou’s famous onsen culture. The wooden structure shelters a stone basin where the spring water flows, and people gather to wash, relax, or simply enjoy the soothing warmth. Its placement right by the historic station makes it both symbolic and practical—a welcoming gesture that connects Beitou’s railway heritage with its hot spring tradition, inviting travelers to pause and experience a moment of calm before exploring further.
This is a beautifully restored wooden train station built in 1916 during the Japanese colonial era to serve visitors heading to Beitou’s famous hot springs. Once part of the Tamsui railway line, it is the only surviving station from that route and now functions as a heritage site and museum.
We are just in time for the cherry blossom season, when the trees are dressed in soft pink petals that cluster along their branches like clouds of spring.
Standing beneath them, you feel the air shift—gentle breezes carry blossoms that drift like snow, reminding you how fleeting yet beautiful this moment is.
Its traditional architecture, with wooden beams and nostalgic design, has been carefully preserved, and inside you’ll find exhibits of railway memorabilia, photographs, and even a retired train carriage that visitors can explore.
The station symbolizes Beitou’s transformation into a hot spring resort town, blending transport history with leisure culture, and today it serves as both a cultural landmark and a gateway to nearby attractions like Thermal Valley, the Beitou Hot Springs Museum, and the eco‑friendly Beitou Public Library.
The old train displayed at Xinbeitou Historic Station is a preserved carriage from the former Tamsui railway line, carefully maintained as part of the museum to let visitors step inside and relive the feel of early 20th‑century rail travel.
More than just an exhibit, it stands as a nostalgic centerpiece that ties Beitou’s hot spring tourism story to Taiwan’s broader railway heritage, offering a tangible link between leisure culture and transport history.
The interior of a vintage train car has been preserved with long green cushioned benches on both sides, decorated with pillows. Overhead hand straps and metal bars recall its commuter past.
Vintage fans and fluorescent lights hang from the ceiling, and a mural at the far end adds context. It blends the train’s original design with an educational exhibit.
Capturing him seated casually or standing in the middle of the carriage makes the photos feel alive, as if the past and present are meeting through your lens.
The entrance of the current Xinbeitou Metro Station is strikingly beautiful, designed to resemble a ceremonial gateway. Its façade rises in three ascending tiers of red-tiled roofs, each layer gracefully stacked above the other. These sweeping roofs rest on sturdy gray pillars, evoking the grandeur of temple architecture while being thoughtfully adapted to serve as a modern transit hub.
Relaxing in the park beside Xinbeitou Station didn’t stop them from asking for a quick snap—capturing both the pause and the gateway’s striking presence in one moment.
The EasyCard is Taiwan’s most widely used reloadable smart card for public transport and small purchases. It works seamlessly across Taipei Metro, buses, trains, and even convenience stores, making it an essential tool for both locals and visitors.
That photo really does make it clear — Mrs. Lee has been to Beitou.
記憶的溫度
To my translation, it means "The temperature of memory", sound so romantic.
This is a small, highly rated Japanese-style restaurant near Xinbeitou Station. It’s known for its nostalgic décor and homely set meals, making it a hidden gem for Beitou visitors.
That entrance really captures the spirit of restaurant — the vintage blue door, nostalgic posters, playful figurines, and warm lighting all combine to make it feel inviting and memorable. It’s a doorway that already tells the story of the cozy, retro atmosphere waiting inside.
Stepping inside, the mood immediately feels intimate and steeped in nostalgia. The weathered blue wood carries the patina of time, while the soft glow of yellow light wraps the room in warmth. Vintage toys, posters, and music fill the space with a sense of memory, as though each corner holds a fragment of the past.
With only a handful of tables scattered across the cozy interior, dining here feels less like visiting a restaurant and more like being welcomed into someone’s home. That homely scale explains the queues that often form outside; it’s a place people are willing to wait for.
To avoid the long lines, many regulars arrive right at opening, and we followed their lead. At 5:30 pm, we were fortunate enough to be seated in the second batch of diners, slipping into a snug corner that felt immediately inviting.
Our attention drifted first to the decorations—the playful figurines, the retro posters, the glow of light against the blue door—before we even thought to open the menu. The atmosphere is a seamless blend: Japanese home-style cooking presented within a distinctly Taiwanese nostalgic setting, where food and memory intertwine.
The menu,written in Traditional Chinese characters (繁體字), offers five variations of 定食 (teishoku) set meals, each distinguished only by the main dish. Every set comes with rice, soup, and small sides like tofu, seaweed, and an onsen egg. It’s clear, straightforward, and refreshingly without frills.
I ordered 香菇鸡腿煲 which is Braised Chicken Drumstick with Mushrooms in a Claypot: The chicken is simmered with shiitake mushrooms, soy sauce, ginger, and sometimes rice wine, creating a rich, savory broth.
The claypot keeps the dish bubbling hot when served, so the aroma of mushrooms and chicken fills the table. It’s hearty, comforting, and very popular in Taiwanese home-style and set meal restaurants.
He ordered 味噌滷豚肉 which is Miso-braised pork: The pork is gently braised in a miso-based sauce, often with soy, ginger, and rice wine.
The miso adds depth and umami, while the slow braising makes the meat tender enough to melt in your mouth.
Lady Zhou's Memorial
Lady Zhou’s Memorial Gate (周氏節孝坊) in Beitou is a Qing dynasty archway erected in 1861 to commemorate Lady Zhou, celebrated for her filial devotion and steadfastness after being widowed at a young age. Born in 1788, she married into the Chen family and, after losing her husband at 27, chose not to remarry, instead dedicating herself to raising her children and honoring her parents‑in‑law.
Her virtues were so esteemed that in 1850 Governor‑General Liu of Zhejiang and Fujian petitioned for a memorial in her name, leading to the construction of the gate. Though later damaged by earthquakes and reduced in size, it was restored in 1993 and remains one of only three surviving Qing memorial archways in Taipei.
Today, it stands as a municipal monument, a cultural landmark that embodies Confucian ideals of loyalty, chastity, and filial piety, while offering visitors a glimpse into Beitou’s layered historical and social heritage.
Daitianfu Temple (北投代天府)
Next to the memorial gate, there is a petite and pretty temple, after checking, it is Daitianfu temple that honors Taoist deities, particularly those associated with protection, justice, and heavenly authority.
Mr Lee asked for another photo with simple residential street view of the daily urban life.
豆咖啡 BEANCAFE(豆二)
This is a beloved specialty roaster, cherished by both locals and travelers. Just a short stroll from Beitou MRT Station and tucked around the corner from Lady Zhou’s Memorial Gate, it offers hand‑brewed pour‑over coffee, drip bags, and carefully curated beans from across the globe. The café is distinctive for its relaxed, open‑air seating beneath the train tracks, where guests can linger in shaded comfort, sipping coffee while watching the rhythm of daily life unfold—a gentle blend of urban bustle and natural calm.
. On the palate, it was exceptionally well‑balanced: a gentle brightness at the start, followed by a mellow sweetness and a velvety body that lingered without bitterness.
Subtle notes of nuts and dark chocolate intertwined with a whisper of floral fragrance, making each sip feel refined and elegant.
This was the remnant of our Blue Mountain coffee, a quiet testament to the ritual we had just enjoyed. After we placed our order, the staff carefully ground the beans on the spot, releasing a burst of fragrance that filled the air. The freshly ground coffee was then measured into a filter bag, its crumpled edges holding the dark powder like a pouch of treasure. Hot water was poured slowly over, blooming the grounds and coaxing out their layered flavors.
On the day of our visit, the crew welcomed us warmly, and what seemed to be the owner sat nearby, soon striking up a conversation.
As Hokkiens, we were delighted when he spoke to us in the local dialect, a gesture that immediately resonated with Mr. and Mrs. Lee. Their faces lit up as they conversed with him, savoring the familiarity of language and the friendliness of the exchange.
That simple chat transformed the experience, making them feel not just like visitors but part of the neighborhood—woven into the local fabric through coffee, conversation, and shared culture.
The staff roasted the beans right before us, filling the café with waves of rich, nutty fragrance. The crackle of the roasting drum and the rising aroma made the whole space feel alive, and we found ourselves soaking in the scent, completely immersed in the craft. It was a simple yet unforgettable moment—watching the beans transform while breathing in their warmth and sweetness.
The crew surprised me with a thoughtful gesture—they invited me to taste the raw Blue Mountain coffee beans directly, chewing them before they were brewed. At first bite, the beans carried a firm crunch, releasing a concentrated bitterness that was sharp yet intriguing. As I chewed, the flavor shifted, unveiling earthy undertones with a faint nuttiness and a whisper of fruit. It was an entirely different experience from the smooth, balanced cup we later enjoyed; raw beans are bold, unrefined, and almost primal, offering a glimpse into the coffee’s essence before roasting transforms it into something elegant.
That moment felt special, almost like being let in on a secret of the craft—an intimate way to connect with the bean itself, to understand its journey from seed to cup.
Beitou Station (北投站) is a key stop on Taipei’s MRT Red Line, serving as the transfer point to the Xinbeitou Branch Line that takes visitors directly into the hot spring district.
Macdonalds
Taking a break at McDonald’s always feels like a safe bet, and this time the four of us decided to share two meals together.
Mr. and Mrs. Lee went for the legendary Fillet‑O‑Fish, its soft bun and tender fish patty reminding us why it’s such a classic.
Beitou Park
Beitou Park welcomed us with a mix of fresh pine and sulfur in the morning air.
Tall pine trees lined the paths, their resinous scent drifting softly through the cool spring breeze, blending unexpectedly with the mineral tang rising from the hot spring stream.
The water flowed steadily under stone bridges, sending wisps of steam into the greenery, while shaded benches offered quiet pauses along the way.
The park felt alive yet serene, a place where nature’s freshness and geothermal energy mingled, guiding us gently toward the dramatic spectacle of Thermal Valley.
Taipei Public Library Beitou Branch
Walking through Beitou Park with MR, we came upon the Taipei Public Library Beitou Branch, its wooden frame rising like a treehouse among the greenery.
Designed as one of the world’s first eco‑friendly libraries, it seemed to breathe with the landscape—large windows opening to sunlight, solar panels glinting on the roof, and the scent of pine mingling with the faint sulfur of the hot spring stream nearby.
Just beside it, a lotus pond shimmered quietly, its blossoms reflecting in the water and softening the air with a gentle fragrance. The scene felt balanced and serene, a blend of architecture, nature, and geothermal energy, making our stroll both calming and memorable before continuing toward Thermal Valley.
Beitou Hotspring Museum
Once a grand public bathhouse—now stands quietly as a cultural landmark, preserving the memory of Beitou’s Japanese colonial past.
As we strolled past the Beitou Hot Spring Museum, its elegant red‑brick façade and wooden beams stood quietly as a reminder of the area’s rich past. Once the largest public bathhouse in East Asia during the Japanese colonial era, it has since been restored as a cultural landmark, preserving stories of Beitou’s hot spring heritage. We chose not to enter this time, saving our energy for the walk ahead to Thermal Valley, but even from the outside, the museum lent a sense of history to the journey—an echo of the generations who once gathered here to soak in the geothermal waters.
Built in 1913 under Japanese colonial rule, modeled after the Mount Izu bathhouse in Japan. Originally called the Hokutō Public Bathhouse, it was the largest bathhouse in East Asia at the time. Abandoned after WWII, rediscovered by local students in 1994, and declared a municipal historic site in 1997. Reopened as a museum in 1998, preserving Beitou’s hot spring culture and architecture.
As we passed by, we noticed a small amphitheater used for community performances and cultural events. Its semi‑circular seating and stone stage may resemble a gladiator arena, but it’s meant for concerts, plays, and gatherings, not combat.Tengu-an Historic Site Park
Locally known as 天狗庵史蹟公園, this modest garden in Beitou carries deep historical weight as the site of Taiwan’s very first private Japanese hot spring hotel.
Passing by, I felt as though I had stepped into a quiet pocket of Beitou’s past. Today, the grounds rest as a small Japanese-style garden, with stone paths and greenery preserving the memory of how the district’s hot spring culture first began.
Though humble in scale, the park radiates heritage, a gentle reminder that Beitou’s bustling hot spring scene traces its roots back to this very spot.
While admiring Tengu‑an, I noticed a narrow staircase squeezed between two apartment blocks, climbing steeply through the slope. The close‑packed buildings, stone wall, and greenery gave the place a layered texture, and the stairway itself felt cinematic—like a fleeting frame from a Japanese anime, where everyday life unfolds against an urban hillside backdrop.
春乃家洋食馆
This restaurant, located near JBG Onsen Hotel in Beitou, has the feel of a long‑standing neighborhood eatery. It has been around for decades, quietly serving locals and travelers who come to the hot spring area. The crew is small and family‑run, often with the owners themselves greeting guests warmly and preparing meals with a homestyle touch.
Stepping inside, you’re greeted by a warm, nostalgic atmosphere that blends Japanese and Taiwanese aesthetics.
The entrance is adorned with rustic stone walls, bamboo baskets, ceramic pots, and lanterns, giving it the feel of a traditional countryside inn.
Artificial cherry blossoms add a soft, elegant touch, while quirky details—like statues of animals or vintage ornaments—bring a playful charm.
Inside, the dining area carries a retro diner vibe with wooden frames, glass panels, and cozy lighting, sometimes even chandeliers that contrast with the rustic elements.
Decorative displays feature cultural artifacts such as stone lanterns, woven baskets, and ornamental cranes, creating a sense of stepping into a curated Japanese‑style home.
The overall effect is both homely and theatrical: a mix of natural textures, cultural symbols, and whimsical touches that make the restaurant feel like more than just a place to eat
The food we ordered was a delightful spread of Japanese‑style Western comfort dishes, each presented with care and a touch of homely charm.
Deep‑fried fish fillet set: Mrs Lee & I had the same taste: Two golden, breaded fillets served on a wire rack to keep them crisp, accompanied by shredded cabbage, parsley, and even a purple orchid for garnish.
The set came with fluffy white rice sprinkled with sesame seeds, a bowl of miso soup, edamame, a dollop of mayonnaise, and silky chawanmushi topped with carrot.
Grilled whole fish set: A beautifully charred fish served with lime and parsley, again accented with an orchid flower. This tray also included rice, soup, edamame, and custard, making it hearty yet balanced. It is obvious to see Mr Lee's anticipation on his face.
Stir‑fried cabbage: Simple but flavorful, lightly cooked with oil to retain crunch and freshness, offering a clean contrast to the richer fried and grilled dishes.
Unagi don (grilled eel rice box): A lacquered box filled with rice topped with glazed eel, its sweet‑savory sauce shimmering under sesame seeds. Served with miso soup and edamame, this dish carried the depth and indulgence of traditional Japanese dining.
As we were leaving the restaurant, Mrs. Lee was still very much in the mood for photos, her energy undimmed even after the meal. She lingered by the decorative displays, smiling and posing against the backdrop of cherry blossoms, lanterns, and rustic ornaments, as if wanting to capture every detail of the charming setting before stepping out.
Her enthusiasm added a lighthearted touch to our departure—while the rest of us were ready to head off, she was savoring the moment, ensuring that the warmth of the place and the joy of our gathering would live on in her snapshots
Bella Thai Royal Traditional Massage
Tucked right beside JBG Onsen, Bella Thai Royal Traditional Massage offers a convenient escape for weary travelers.
We booked the two‑hour Thai oil massage at NTD 1,900, and from the start it felt like a thoughtful, well‑paced experience.
Our therapists—both originally from Thailand and seasoned with many years of practice in Taiwan—welcomed us warmly.
The service began with a foot bath ritual, where our sore feet were soaked and gently washed, easing away the fatigue from long walks. This simple act set the tone, grounding us before the massage itself.
We were then guided into a couple’s room, a cozy space where we changed and settled in for the treatment.
Over the next two hours, the therapists worked with steady rhythm and attentive care, blending oil massage with Thai techniques that stretched and kneaded away tension. The flow was unhurried, allowing us to fully sink into relaxation.
When the massage concluded, we were served refreshments, a small but welcome gesture that rounded off the session. While Bella Thai is not a luxury spa with lavish décor, the service felt genuine, professional, and deeply restorative. At this price point, the experience struck us as excellent value for money—a practical indulgence that complemented our Beitou hot spring retreat perfectly.
7-11
Right beside our hotel stood a 7‑Eleven, a convenience that made life so much easier for us. After the massage, hunger crept in, and we found ourselves wandering into the store for a little food hunt.
I’ve always had a soft spot for Man Han Da Can instant noodles, so naturally I grabbed one for immediate enjoyment.
To pair with it, I picked up a bottle of guava juice — tangy, fragrant, and just exotic enough to feel refreshing after the evening’s indulgence.
As we explored the shelves, my eyes landed on a delightful surprise tucked in the corner: the popular Mofusand cat tumbler, a collaboration with Lays chips. Priced at NT$299 (about S$12), it felt like a steal.
My Mr. helped me choose from the three available pieces, and with a bit of luck, I ended up with the one I had secretly hoped for — the pink tumbler. A small victory, but one that made the night feel even sweeter.
The Stream of Hotspring
Stepping into Beitou Park, the journey begins with a gentle soundtrack of flowing water and rustling leaves. The hot spring stream winds its way through the greenery, carrying with it a faint sulfur scent that hints at the volcanic heart beneath the earth.
Wisps of steam rise from the surface, curling into the air like whispers of the valley ahead.
As you follow the path, bridges arch gracefully over the stream, and shaded walkways invite you to pause. Locals lingered along the stream to enjoy the warmth of the geothermal flow.
Along the way, sulfur‑stained rocks and mineral deposits catch the eye, small but striking signs of the geothermal forces at work. The walk feels like a gradual unveiling—each step closer intensifies the warmth in the air and the scent of minerals.
The long flight of stairs stretches upward, guiding visitors toward the public pool at the top. Though the pool is currently closed, the climb itself feels like a small journey — each step framed by the quiet surroundings and the anticipation of what lies beyond.
The experience is both tranquil and dramatic: a calm stroll through parkland that crescendos into the raw spectacle of geothermal power.
It’s a walk that engages every sense—sight, smell, sound, and touch—culminating in one of Beitou’s most unforgettable landmarks.
The harmony between the natural flow of water and the quiet human design made the place feel serene—like a hidden corner where Beitou’s hillside softened into calm.
The stream’s water moved with a quiet clarity, tinted green by moss and algae clinging to the stones beneath. Sunlight caught its surface, turning ripples into shifting patterns of jade and silver. It wasn’t a rushing torrent but a gentle flow, steady enough to carry the scent of freshness through the air
At the entrance of Thermal Valley, we stumbled upon what I fondly call an “Onsen kitty.” She was lounging near the path, as if she belonged to the hot spring itself. When I called out to her, she lifted her head and greeted me back with a soft meow, her presence adding a touch of warmth and charm to the already mystical atmosphere of the valley
Thermal Valley
Thermal Valley (地熱谷), also called “Hell Valley,” is one of Beitou’s most iconic geothermal sites, formed thousands of years ago by volcanic activity from Yangmingshan. It resembles a giant cauldron of boiling jade‑green water, constantly bubbling and steaming, with temperatures reaching up to 90 °C.
The spring water is highly acidic (pH 1.4–1.6) and contains minerals such as sulfur, radium, alunite, and realgar. This unique composition gives the water its jade‑green color and strong sulfur smell
The valley itself is ancient, dating back thousands of years, though it became famous during the Japanese colonial period (1895–1945) when Beitou was developed as a hot spring resort.
The valley is almost always veiled in thick mist, a natural cloak created by the intense heat meeting the cool, humid air. This constant shroud lends Thermal Valley a mystical, almost otherworldly atmosphere—like stepping into a living painting of steam and stone.
In the midst of this surreal setting, my Mr found himself practicing kungfu, his movements cutting through the drifting fog with deliberate grace. Each stance and strike seemed amplified by the valley’s energy, as if the geothermal breath of the earth itself was harmonizing with his rhythm. The rising steam wrapped around him like a stage curtain, turning the practice into a performance framed by nature. I just simply rolled my eyes each time...
The jade‑green waters bubble and hiss, the “eyes” of the earth opening and closing as gases escape from deep underground.
Visitors often notice the small circular spots where bubbles rise to the surface—these are geothermal vents, natural openings that channel heat, steam, and gases from deep underground. Each “eye” of the valley pulses with energy, releasing bursts of boiling water and sulfuric vapors that ripple across the jade‑green surface. The effect is mesmerizing: dozens of tiny craters constantly breathing, as if the earth itself were alive beneath the pool. Combined with the thick fog that drifts across the valley, these bubbling vents create an atmosphere both eerie and enchanting, reminding you that Beitou sits atop a restless volcanic landscape shaped over thousands of years.
At the midpoint of the valley, we chanced upon "Witch Rock Waterfall" which is a modest but atmospheric cascade shaped by the ancient volcanic terrain of the Datun Mountain Range, which began forming hundreds of thousands of years ago.
Its waters are not geothermal like Thermal Valley’s jade‑green springs, but instead come from fresh mountain streams fed by rainfall and underground seepage, flowing down through Linquan Village before tumbling past the jagged rock formation nicknamed “Witch’s Rock.”
The waterfall’s age is tied to the volcanic geology of northern Taiwan, while its seasonal flow reflects Beitou’s humid subtropical climate—stronger during rainy months, gentler in dry periods.
Today, it remains a quiet natural landmark, offering a tranquil counterpoint to Beitou’s steaming hot spring basins and a glimpse into the district’s layered volcanic past.
As we continued our stroll along the circumference of the valley, the path grew noticeably shadier, with trees and overhanging foliage softening the harsh brightness of the steaming waters.
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| He is practicing Kungfu again. |
The shifting mist drifted across our view, sometimes obscuring the jade‑green surface, sometimes parting to reveal the bubbling “eyes” of the valley. Each angle offered a new perspective—sometimes the water looked like a vast cauldron, sometimes like a hidden lake breathing beneath its veil.
We paused often to snap photos, capturing the interplay of light, fog, and movement, and found ourselves admiring how the valley transformed with every step.
The shaded walk gave the impression of entering a secret world, where nature’s raw volcanic energy met a quiet, contemplative beauty.
When Mr. Lee asked for a shot, he settled naturally beside the statue, and the moment felt effortless. The playful spirit of the Laughing Buddha and the greenery around him gave the photo a warm, memorable charm.
Brae Cafe (山边咖啡)
Tucked along the hillside of Beitou, Brae Café is a small yet inviting spot that immediately charms with its mountain views and relaxed atmosphere.
From its windows and outdoor seating, you can gaze toward Yangmingshan, where shifting clouds and greenery create a serene backdrop for a leisurely afternoon.
Brae Café may be modest in size, but its combination of scenic outlook, heartfelt service, and simple yet well‑crafted menu makes it a memorable stop in Beitou.
It’s the kind of place where you linger longer than planned, sipping coffee while the mountain air drifts in, savoring both the food and the atmosphere.
The owner welcomed us with genuine politeness and warmth, showing the kind of hospitality that makes a café visit feel personal rather than transactional. His attentiveness set the tone for our meal, and it was clear that this place is run with care.
Alongside the various coffees we ordered—each brewed with precision and served thoughtfully—we indulged in a slice of cheese Basque cake, lovingly prepared by the owner’s wife.
The first latte in the white mug, with its tulip design, feels warm and precise, like a gentle brushstroke.
The striped cup carries a homely charm, its leaf pattern cozy against the rustic coaster.
The third cup, with its osmanthus latte, is the most delicate — the floral notes and golden flakes make it feel celebratory and refined.
The iced glass swirls with milk and espresso, refreshing and striking, like liquid art.
The cake was light yet flavorful, fluffy in texture, and perfectly balanced in taste, a homemade touch that elevated the experience.
Qing Cai Yuan (青菜園)
This is a rustic countryside restaurant tucked into the slopes of Yangmingshan, beloved for its hearty Taiwanese dishes and warm, unpretentious atmosphere. Despite its simple setting, it has become a favorite stop for hikers and families who want to enjoy a meal surrounded by greenery.
The queue itself becomes part of the experience. Guests line up along the open roadside, exposed to the sun and breeze, while keeping an eye on passing cars that occasionally weave through the narrow lane.
The wait feels communal—families, hikers, and curious visitors all gathered in anticipation of the famous roast chicken and rustic dishes inside. Umbrellas pop open for shade, conversations drift across the line, and the sight of the countryside around you softens the inconvenience of waiting.
The restaurant’s name, meaning “Vegetable Garden,” reflects its emphasis on fresh, seasonal produce, often sourced locally and cooked in a homestyle manner that is currently run by third generations.
Though it may seem chaotic at first, there’s a rhythm to it: staff managing arrivals, diners finishing up, and the steady flow of people moving forward. The roadside queue captures the essence of Qingcaiyuan—unpretentious, lively, and deeply tied to its rural setting, where patience is rewarded with hearty food and the charm of a mountain retreat.
I caught a glimpse of the interior — tables packed shoulder to shoulder, not a single empty spot in sight. The air was thick with chatter, clinking dishes, and the lively hum of diners enjoying themselves.
The energy was over spilling out, a noisy, bustling scene that spoke of the restaurant’s popularity and the promise of hearty, satisfying food within.
After a good 20 minutes wait, finally it is our turn and upon stepping into restaurant, the atmosphere immediately envelops you in a lively, almost chaotic energy.
For us, it was a nostalgic return to a dining style we hadn’t experienced in ages, where the vibrancy of the crowd becomes part of the meal itself.
We placed an order for stir fried potatoes leaves, roast chicken and sweet & sour fish. I wanted to place for one more dish and I was stopped by the staff who told me three dishes is enough for us. I really appreciate this gesture that the staff reminded us not to over order to prevent wastage or giving chance to other diners to place their order.
A bottle of an old school sour plum juice that is perfect for such atmosphere.
The place hums with noise—diners chatting animatedly, staff calling out orders in booming voices, and the clatter of dishes echoing through the hall. It feels less like a polished restaurant and more like a bustling marketplace, yet everything runs with surprising efficiency and order.
The stir‑fried potato leaves at 青菜園 are a quintessential countryside dish—simple, vibrant, and full of flavor. Served steaming hot, the greens arrive glistening in a light garlic‑infused sauce, their tender leaves retaining a bright green color that speaks to freshness. The texture is soft yet slightly crisp at the stems, offering a pleasant contrast in each bite. What makes the dish memorable is its balance: the natural sweetness of the potato leaves enhanced by the savory aroma of garlic and the subtle seasoning that doesn’t overpower the vegetable’s character.
The sauce is studded with bell peppers in red, yellow, and green, along with onions and scallions, adding both crunch and freshness to each bite. The contrast is what makes the dish memorable: the crackle of the crispy fish skin against the sticky, tangy glaze, and the interplay of savory, sweet, and sour flavors that dance across the palate. It’s hearty yet lively, a dish that feels celebratory and perfectly suited to the bustling, communal atmosphere of Qingcaiyuan’s countryside kitchen.
We finished everything happily, cleared the table for the next turnaround!
興福記永和豆漿大王
A well‑known breakfast and late‑night spot in Beitou, Taipei, famous for its traditional soy milk, egg pancakes, rice rolls, and other Taiwanese comfort foods.
It operates unusual hours—open daily from 5 p.m. until 11 a.m.—making it both a supper and breakfast destination.
The salted soy milk I ordered is warm, savory, and comforting. The soy base is gently curdled, giving it a soft, custard‑like texture, while pieces of fried dough soak up the broth, adding both crunch and chew. Pickled vegetables and seasonings bring a tangy, umami depth, and a sprinkle of scallions lifts the flavor with freshness.
Each spoonful balances creaminess, texture, and aroma, making it a simple yet deeply satisfying dish.
Pan fried carrot cake is made from grated radish mixed with rice flour and steamed into a firm block before being sliced and pan‑fried. On the plate, each piece has a crisp, golden crust from the pan, while the inside remains soft and delicate, with a subtle radish aroma and a gentle chew.
Ham and cheese pancake is a popular variation of the Taiwanese egg pancake. The flatbread is thin and lightly browned, folded around layers of savory ham and melted cheese. The filling adds a rich, salty creaminess that pairs beautifully with the chewy, slightly crisp pancake skin.
Beitou District Night Market (北投夜市)
This night market is modest yet charming night market tucked within Taipei’s Beitou area, offering a more local and intimate experience compared to the city’s larger, tourist‑heavy markets.
It is a favorite among neighborhood residents, with stalls that have often been family‑run for generations, serving traditional Taiwanese street foods like stinky tofu, oyster omelets, grilled skewers, and braised snacks.
The atmosphere is cozy and nostalgic, with vendors calling out cheerfully and the aroma of sizzling dishes filling the narrow lanes.
Unlike the sprawling night markets of Shilin or Raohe, Beitou’s version is smaller in scale, but that is precisely its appeal—it feels authentic, unhurried, and rooted in community life. Prices are affordable, usually just a few dozen NT dollars per item, and most stalls operate on a cash‑only basis.
Conveniently located near Beitou’s hot springs and MRT station, it’s an easy stop after a day of sightseeing, offering visitors a chance to enjoy genuine Taiwanese flavors in a warm, neighborhood setting.
Two Peck Cripsy Chicken (派克脆皮雞排 新北投店)
Two Peck Crispy Chicken is one of Taiwan’s most recognizable fried chicken chains, and the Xinbeitou branch brings its signature oversized crispy cutlets to the heart of Beitou. Founded more than 16 years ago on Siping Street in Taipei, the brand has since grown into Taiwan’s largest crispy chicken steak chain, with outlets across Asia and even overseas.
The result is a cutlet with a shatteringly crisp exterior and juicy, flavorful meat inside. At the Xinbeitou stall, you’ll find locals and visitors alike lining up for their signature chicken steak, boneless nuggets, cheese balls, and seasonal specials, all at affordable street‑food prices.
He got his favourite chicken butt which is another specialty, offering a different kind of indulgence. These little nuggets of cartilage and skin are fried until crisp on the outside, yet retain a chewy, flavorful core. They’re rich, slightly smoky, and prized for their unique texture—crispy edges giving way to a soft, fatty bite that pairs beautifully with a sprinkle of salt or spice.
I ordered the deep‑fried chicken bites are a crowd‑pleaser—small, boneless morsels coated in a golden, crunchy batter that shatters lightly with each bite.
The meat stays juicy and tender, carrying the savory marinade that gives Two Peck its signature flavor.
Starbucks
Pausing for a moment at Starbucks is always a comforting choice, and this time we settled in with a simple spread of drinks.
Two steaming cups of Americano brought that bold, straightforward kick of coffee, while the cappuccino offered a softer balance with its frothy milk and gentle bitterness. To round things off, the caramel macchiato added a touch of indulgence, its sweetness layered over espresso for a smooth finish. Sitting together with these four cups felt less about the caffeine and more about the company—the quiet joy of sharing familiar flavors, unwinding in the warm café atmosphere, and savoring the pause before the day carried us onward.
Moving to the town
After five leisurely days in Beitou, we set off with an itinerary designed in a relaxed rhythm, leaving space for long soaks in the onsen. Now the journey carries us toward Ximending, where the energy shifts — hip, vibrant, and full of youthful buzz. Yet even as the pace quickens, the spirit of the trip remains unhurried, blending calm indulgence with lively exploration.
And just like that, we’ve arrived at the final stop on this blog journey—thank you so much for walking alongside me through every story, snapshot, and sensory moment. If you’d like to continue exploring, I’ve gathered links to my other posts from this trip for Taiwan below. Each one offers a different glimpse into the places, flavors, and feelings that made this adventure unforgettable:
As Taiwan is one of the common destination for me, below are the links of my footprints that we had scattered around Taiwan throughout the years.
POV: Actually, I had made more than above trips to Taiwan, I have been to the west, east and south too, I am just lazy to share those aging blogs.
In the meantime, I’d love to share a few reflections from our earlier journeys through China. Below you’ll find links to blog posts from past trips—each one capturing a different slice of the country’s charm, from quiet lanes to bustling streets.
It would mean so much if you had a moment to dive into a few more of the unforgettable adventures we've shared. Each one holds its own story, waiting to be rediscovered.
Thank you for dropping by....
Cheers
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