From the bus stop, it’s a steep 2km trek up the same road the cars take. I get to the top around 3pm, slightly later than I wanted to in order to get a read on the sunset and pick a spot for picture purposes, but yet at a perfect time because it’s the pre-sunset stage where you can feel a yellowy-orange presence arising, and the world seems to be in high-contrast mode. The first thing I see when getting to the top is this:
A bunch of couples are hanging out in the shadows of Wangyou Valley below. I continue on to the coast, and even though we’ve only been apart one day, I greet it like we haven’t seen each other in years. The view is so pretty while walking up and down different sets of stairs, trying to enjoy the warm breeze but also find a good spot to set up the camera. It’s overwhelmingly large – there are plenty of good spots at tops of hills, at valleys, looking at ridges, looking at ports. There are also lots of people since it’s the weekend.
There are so many options for picture-taking. I’m not a scientist or a light expert, and I have no idea how the coast will be affected by the light. I just take what the sky, mountains, and water give me, which can vary widely. I think this spot will be good:
There are hundreds of mosquitoes, and I’m wearing my salmon shorts sitting next to some high grass. I can still smell the citronella on my skin, but they don’t seem to care.
I watch the boats millimetering forward, entering and leaving the port. Fishermen and women stand on the edge of the rock structures below, and couples take pictures behind me. Some people come up and talk to me. They’re very nice here.
Where am I supposed to look? What am I supposed to see? I don’t know.
Here comes the sunset.
The spot I chose is alright, but I look left just a bit. This is what I was looking for.
For just a few moments, there is but one definite place to focus my eyes. I get up. The hill we strange little creatures are standing on is no longer attached to the earth, and we’re collectively part of something much bigger. The surreal skies overwhelm us as we look up in awe. The people standing next to me have a discussion about school.
I keep moving the camera left, west, following the color. Even though it’s unexpected and there are people in the picture (which I almost always avoid), I get some nice shots and enjoy it. Maybe I’m too obsessed with sunsets over coasts.
Meanwhile, back at my spot…
The event in the sky only lasts a minute or two, and people start to leave. But I’m staying. Even though I’m without phone service on top of a hill far from transportation, I’m determined to conquer the night, if the mosquitoes don’t eat every square inch of my arms and legs first…
The darkness welcomes me. Some boats turn on their bright lights, and I mess around with some more pictures.
I stay another hour, until I can no longer see my hand and nearly everyone is gone. I stand in the middle of the black valley, stopping again for a few minutes, looking at the ships and the stars, wishing I could stay here all night.
I want more of this. I hope to discover as much of Taiwan’s natural beauty as I can, because exploring makes me happy.