Got some good shots.

Relived the trip by browsing the pictures. Taoist temples make my day, man. Will post later. Maybe. There’s the small matter of my harddrive’s dwindling megabytes. The last photo was of mudskippers in a drained harbor down the street from Fort San Domingo. Mudskippers! Makes an anticlimactic ending to the slide show, but the fort was boring and you’re not allowed to take pictures in the Palace Museum, which is how we ended out today. In all shots, I have a fat face.

The airport staff we encountered in Taipei and Jeju-si kept assuming we’d transfer on to Shanghai. We were just glad to be back where we can read and express such complex thoughts as “goodbye” in the native tongue. Where bitchy Taiwanese-American girls with SoCal drawls who were brought up in bilingual families don’t give us dirty looks for ordering our coffee in English.

What happened to me? I used to be the girl who wouldn’t be caught dead in a Starbucks. Yet I feel I must defend my right to travel even if I have more lattes than native dishes and can’t even say “One iced Americano, please” in Chinese.

In my defense, I did eat stinky tofu, and I think it takes a certain kind of courage to eat something brown that smells like rot out of the near equivalent of a carnival booth.  What I ate very much resembled that top picture in the Wikipedia article.  Which, uh, also says it might be made with goose blood.  That I didn’t know at the time.

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