Let the Adventure Begin [Part 2]

Matsu, Taiwan, has only been reconnected for travel to the mainland for a dozen years. Even though there have been family connections from its beginning, political events forced a whole generation to endure strict separation across the Straits. As the Cold War thawed and Hong Kong was returned to mainland control, a semblance of “normal” has returned to the citizens of this rock fortress. The military presence, however, is as hard to ignore as a Great Dane in the back seat of a Volkswagen.

As we eat our microwave lunch of noodles at the 7-Eleven, young soldiers drift in and out to the post office next door. We watch a few smaller ferries bob at dockside while they carefully time the unloading of passengers one-by-one. They quickly turn around to make a short trip to one of several nearby island ports. We have a couple of hours before the 2 o’clock ferry to Mawei, so I suggest we try the ATM at the post office to procure a few Taiwanese dollars to replenish our supply of snacks. Despite the VISA symbol on the machine, the ATM refuses to communicate with my American bank. Alas, we are destined to roam the snack aisles at the 7-Eleven with no spendable currency.

We make our way back to the port authority, skirting the puddles in the concrete street and pointing the umbrella directly into the wind to prevent a re-enactment of Mary Poppins. It is much quieter than usual for this time of day; but we attribute this to the inclement weather and to fewer people wishing to make the journey under these conditions. As 2 o’clock approached, however, I began to be concerned that there may be more to it than that. Just at that moment, an employee walked over and made it clear that the ferry was not going that afternoon. Come back tomorrow for more information.

I was regretting that when we had made our phone call yesterday to ask if the ferry were running to Matsu, we had failed to ask if it were returning. Of course there was nothing to be done at this point except to button our jackets against the wind- thankfully the rain had stopped- and to head to the other side of the harbor to the Holiday Hotel. I had met the owner’s daughter, Charlene, a year ago on a previous visit. She was a university student studying hotel management. Back then, she had shown me a room on the fifth floor with a view of the harbor. [It is really the fourth floor, but the Ch. word “four” sounds like the word for “death”, so hotels routinely rename them: much like the absence of the 13th floor in many western hotels.] So I knew I could secure a clean, simply furnished room with a hot shower and a view.

Charlene had now graduated and was back home to help with the family business. That made the registration process easier, since neither of her parents spoke any English. They accepted my PRC currency as payment [the pinkish RMB that resembled their own but featuring different benefactors], and even exchanged a small amount of what I had left so that we could expect to eat for one day. We had brought just enough cash to meet our needs for the one-day trip, living by the principle that what we didn’t carry we couldn’t spend.

After checking in, we returned to the desk to ask for directions to a bank. If this adventure took another unexpected turn, we really needed to find a source for additional cash. Charlene drew a circle around a spot on a Matsu tourism bureau map, and we headed off to find a taxi to drive us to the spot. After negotiating the price with a driver, we climbed into the back seat and the taxi climbed the hill to the other side of the island. We stopped on a hill just below the Bank of Taiwan, now closed for the day, but equipped with a brightly lit ATM. Though it was emblazoned with the same UnionPay symbol as my Bank of China card, there was no union and the machine would not pay. Ditto my American card.

We managed to communicate our need for a place to eat, and the taxi went up and over another hill, stopping next to a narrow alley lined with small shops and restaurants. We understood that the dinner hour would begin at 5 PM, which was still a few minutes away, so we walked the length of the alley to scout out our choices, settling on a place with knotty pine walls and several tables. As we settled into our seats, a young girl brought us a menu written in English in trade for the Chinese menus already on the table. The cook emerged from the kitchen to help us with our choices. When we asked for the fish ball soup, she suggested a noodle dish that would make a good complement. Enough food for an entire family, as it turned out.

As we prepared to pay, Nanette pulled out a picture of our Hidden Treasures children to show to the grandmother who was nearby. From out of nowhere a grandson was by her side, in his early 20’s, and with very good English. He explained to the grandmother what we did, and we explained to him that we were planning to catch the ferry back to Mawei the next day. His response took the wind out of our sails: the internet had already announced that there would be no ferry on Tuesday. Wanting to make the most of having the ear of an English speaker, we explained to him that we had money enough for only one day, that we had been unsuccessful with 2 ATM’s, and wondered what our options might be to resolve our predicament. He said he would speak to his father- we thought perhaps about alternative, cheaper lodging- and he returned to say that his father had agreed to pay for the hotel room for another night. Moreover we were invited to take our meals on Tuesday with them as their guests. Extraordinary favor.

We extended our thanks and headed back on foot in the direction of our hotel. The threat of rain was still on hold, but the biting cold of the wind tore through our clothing. We gratefully crawled beneath the warm quilts, watched a movie in English on the TV, and turned in early. By this time, we have made friends with the Chinese bed, which gives a whole different slant to the phrase “room and board.” We drift off to sleep knowing that our Travel Guide has everything covered.