Yesterday was the kind of Saturday we like to have here in Taipei. We looked out the window and saw the dark green of the mountains of Yangminshan outlined against a blue sky. There are days when the mountains are totally obscured by gray, so this was a winner - a Saturday, no plans, and a gorgeous sky.

We did our best to get our rear ends out of the house in a timely manner - always a challenge for us. Throwing a few things into a backpack - camera, a book or two, some Boursin cheese, and a pair of pocket hammocks we had purchased but never field-tested - we got ourselves out the door and onto my red Vespa.

First stop was Backerai, our local German bakery for some onion bread to pair with our cheese, 7-Eleven for some film, grabbed Megan's camera from school, and we were soon climbing what is known as Gallery Road, making the steep ascent up into Yangminshan.

On the way up to Cultural College we rounded a bend and saw a man and woman along the side of the road selling oranges underneath a worn umbrella. The oranges, most with a dark green leaf or two still attached, were divided by size. We inquired about where they were grown. The woman pointed behind her to a rickety wooden ladder against a steep wall, and said "Go look" (in Chinese, of course). Up the ladder we climbed, through a wooden doorway in a tall fence, and found ourselves standing in a hillside orange grove. The couple's three kids were tumbling in the dirt beneath the trees, laughing and suddenly noticing our presence. They ran down the hill to check in with mom.

We took a few pictures, made our way back down the ladder, and purchased a bag of oranges to complement our picnic. We said thanks, hooked the bag to the front of the seat, and continued the ascent. The oranges in the bag felt cool against my ankles as they jostled about.

We stopped at the "lookout", a stretch in front of Cultural College that offers a great view of Tien Mu and into downtown. Taipei 101, the tallest building in the world, stood tall against the mist. It is virtually alone in the skyline.

After a look at the map, we headed up even higher, not stopping until we made it to a mountain pass known as The Saddle (most of these names Westerners have made up - I have no idea what the Chinese names are). There is a battlement left over from, I think, Japanese Occupation. The view is limited by two encroaching mountains, but there is a definite feeling of altitude. We figured we would take a short hike up the path to look down at the fumarole, a vent in the earth from which hot steam escapes. We decided to leave the backpack with our provisions on the back of the scooter.

The stone path wound through thick brush on both sides. It was clear a team of workers or a machine had recently cut back the flora. Up and on we went, until finally we came to a series of wooden lookouts that gave a great view into the steaming rocky crevasse. After a few pictures we headed down to get a closer look.

There was a visitors center with a small snack bar. We had popsicles of some unknown and difficult-to-pin-down flavor (mine seemed to have nuts in it - Megan, some sort of berry something). We did not try the tomato-flavored one we saw on a poster. The Chinese truly treat the tomato as a fruit. You find it alongside slices of apple and papaya after your meal in restaurants, and candied on a stick from streetside vendors.

Closer to the vent we wandered, meeting a group of college (?) kids that were rather tickled to meet two Westerners. They insisted we have our picture taken with them. They happened to be near a burbling puddle of mud - heated from the earth below. Sulphur fumes rose up in clouds of steam from small vents here and there. I should point out there were no warning signs or fences keeping you from these incredibly hot vents. Only the giant fumarole was fenced off.

One of the group somehow produced a dozen eggs (actually, ten - they come in ten-packs here); where she had it I don't know. They cleared the pit of stones with a pair of chopsticks, and plopped a few eggs into the bubbling gray mud. This was highly entertaining and curious to legions of folks passing by, but we were certainly not the first. Eggshells were on the ground near the pit, residue from previous attempts.

You can have a look at the videos at the end of this post to see the cooking process. It's rather interesting. We received one hot gray/black egg as a parting gift. I later made the alarming discovery it was undercooked.

Back onto the Vespa (no one stole our backpack), and down the far side of the mountain we went. Traffic was fairly busy because of the cherry blossom season occurring for the next couple of weeks. Down, down, until we finally stopped at a roadside park with some covered decks. It was time for a rather late lunch.

We decided to try our pocket hammocks (there was actually a lady there using one already!). I managed to tie one up, a little low, but Megan and I both managed to sit in it, our butts touching the floor of the deck. Still, we were able to lean back comfortably. The entire process was witnessed by a large group of Chinese who were thoroughly entertained by our hammock installation, particularly the children. We fielded a few questions, and mostly spoke to the kids who probably couldn't understand our bad Chinese anyway.

It quieted down after we ate, and I tied up the second hammock. We both got out our books, lay in our hammocks facing now the other side of the mountains bathed in late afternoon light. Swinging gently, I immediately and without delay fell asleep. Megan soon followed. She awoke to the sound of chanting, coming from perhaps a temple somewhere in the valley. She caught the sun descending behind the peaks.

I woke, neck stiff, and a bit amazed realizing how deeply I had slept. We gathered our things, gave a little water to some stray puppies who discovered us, and made our way back home. We stopped only to buy some cala lillies from an old woman along the road. They sit upon our tea table in the other room.

These are the kind of relaxing Saturdays that make it all worthwhile. Have a look at some pictures. Here's a shot of the guy cooking eggs, and another of him testing the water.

So, time ticks by. I walk down the street and think of things to blog. How much do I actually record here? Relatively little. Actually a fraction.

I wanted to write about Chinese New Year. The biggest holiday of the year - schools close for a whole month. Kids still aren't back yet. Our school, being an American School, only got a week off. Most businesses close for that week. Tien Mu was a dark and lonely place. I went to one (quasi) supermarket that was open and the fresh produce case was completely empty, except for the saddest of cabbages.

And then it ended. One night, the stores reopened! It felt like a carnival walking home, lights in every shop. Still not a whole lot of people on the street, but enough to make it look somewhat normal. People passing you, sharing new year's greetings - a really nice time of year around here.

Interestingly, the Chinese seem to be big proponents of "Out with the old, In with the new!". There are actually official trash days just before CNY where people toss out all sorts of stuff. Entire street corners are filled with broken chairs, fish tanks, old appliances, and some darn interesting stuff as well! I just missed scavenging two large beautiful wooden chairs with inlaid stone backs and intricate carving - some lady already had dragged them onto a cart. Gotta be quick around here.

So, I'm actually writing to post a few pictures of the arrival of our tea table. When you say tea table, most people think of a dainty table next to perhaps a delicate seat. This tea table weighs 350 kilos, about 770 lbs. It's carved from a solid slice of a boulder, and sits atop two massive tree trunks, surrounded by six stools, also tree trunks. The wood is a type from Mainland China, with a beautifully gnarled surface. The wood is incredibly dense, and each stool weighs about eighty pounds. Typing away at my calculator here, the entire set adds up to about 1500 lbs, almost 700 kilos. Anyone want to help us move?

So, the concept here is that you sit at this tea table to prepare and serve your tea. The Chinese do a great deal of warming cups, rinsing tea leaves, etc., that involves a generous amount of water. Most of this water spills over cups and out of spouts, or is simply discarded. A tea table is an incredibly ornate repository for all this water and tea. At their simplest, a tea table is a simple bamboo slotted platform for your teapot, to, well, a stone tea table. We opted for the stone table.

Ours has water buffalo carved into it, lolling about in the cool mud of a river bed. The river bed is where the tea water flows into, and the water buffalo look happiest when swimming in a river of tea. A little valve at one end of the table allows you to drain the water into a special bucket on the floor. The more you use the table, the darker the stone becomes with the tea giving a patina to the surface. It starts out looking relatively plain, and becomes darker and more beautiful with age. You are supposed to "nurse" the table with tea. It is amazingly relaxing to sit there and sip tea, painting away with Chinese brushes the buffalo in the river, the tree stump, the broken cart, and the muddy banks of the river. I dare say it's exactly what I need after a hectic day at work.

So, perhaps you'd like to see just how an 800 pound slab of stone is delivered to the 4th floor of an apartment building. You can click here to see the pictures. And I'm not sure if you can see or not, but some of these guys were barefoot.