Day 09

8km before Jichi Beachj on Highway 11 to Dafangao.

Finally, after nine days on the road, the stars or gods that define the collisions of time and place came together to reveal Jichi Beach where one can swim and stare out to sea, a lone ship passing slowly by. Since Fulong, the coastal scenery has been fantastic, but on the whole it is not viable for swimming as the beaches drop rapidly and deeply into the sea where strong currents can take hold. We are overjoyed to take a dip in the ocean and cool down, crashing pleasantly about by the waves and practicing our American accents. Some of the pastimes we have developed today include Kevin talking in an American accent, one he has almost mastered with my teaching (I do this accent expertly), Neil must provide a mime to accompany the things he says, and I must sing my words instead of speak them. Other things we like to do are suffix words with ‘-age’: “My head’s hot, I need some hattage”, “I’m looking forward to some beerage”, “There’ll be some serious kochage”, to rearrange long vowel sounds (actually Kevin’s game) so that words are pronounced Can-Dice, Ay-Lice, Slee-Pie and so forth, and re-using words over and over again, like fatigue and rigour. We also now know what rigour fatigue is.

Neil set off around three, having allowed his leg to rest, and a knee support and a painkiller are the order of the day. At Jichi, Candice and I take a look at the ‘resort’. For 50NT we are allowed to enter at the southern end of the same beach we just swam from, for free, 500 metres to the north. We pay anyway, and the café, restaurant and beach shop we expected to find there are there for sure, but completely desolate as if no-one has frequented the place since 1965. Of course, we are off-season and but for the group of Taiwanese who paddle in the sea we are the only ones today. The signs boast volleyball, parasols, deckchairs and watersports. In the Summer I imagine the place would be worth the entry fee. Later, at a 7eleven in a small village, Neil is recognised by the locals who gather around and give him a countdown and a cheer as he continues on the last part of his run.

We meet with Neil again and it’s fair to say that we are shocked by his mood. After yesterday’s painful
run, the left leg causing him agony for much of the day, he has run the last 4km at a fantastic pace and barely notices us as he storms past. On seeing us, he is hyperactive and full of energy and unable to stop talking about the high he is feeling. He has a feeling of euphoria that is all the more poignant in that is simply brought on by this most ancient, fundamental human action. He has often talked about the highs and lows he experiences when running and the way that sometimes his body will feel like it’s deteriorating and sometimes it will feel like that of an omnipotent Greek god (my words, not Neil’s!). The challenges and rewards make this sport appealing to someone like him who likes to “earn” his koch. But today he says this part of the marathon was the most thrilling, the most like flying, the most single-mindedly pure running high he has ever experienced. Considering that willpower alone got him through the pain and to the finish line yesterday, this particular reward was surely deserved.

We notice on the map a hot springs is level with us on Highway 9 which runs parallel to our 11. Conveniently, or so we thought, a connecting road will lead us from Neil’s finish line to Rueishei where we call and book a room and ensure the springs will be open upon our late arrival.

We decide to make the journey, presuming it to take twenty minutes or so. The ride is as hairy as any I’ve seen in Taiwan. Completely unlit, the single lane narrow road winds in S-bends up and round the mountains. At several points the construction work leaves half the road impassable. At points we pass sprinklings of large rocks which have fallen from the mountains above down onto the road. But we all arrive in one piece. We hurry excitedly to the hot springs and agree immediately that the drive was well worth the reward. This is one of the very few carbonated hot springs in the world, and the sign assures that though we may recognise the taste of rust (from liking rain-worn bicycles in the past?), the iron in the water serves as a powerful antidote to aches and pains.