Taipei has this big electronics market we went to. It’s all in one building, with lots of vendors crammed into small spaces. Upstairs are computers and related gadgetry, downstairs are manga and porn. In short, everything your basic computer geek could want—and all for cheap. Granted, lots of the software was counterfeit or illegal to sell. But it was all cheap. There were places where you could buy blank CDs in bulk, in a dizzying array of colors and patterns—and places where you could get 10-disc duplicators for all your “backup” needs.

We were looking for a SmartMedia card (known to the locals as an SM Card) for Camille, among other things. I didn’t speak any Mandarin but still I went up to a bunch of clerks, made a little card with my fingers, and said “SM card?”. I got lots of blank stares till Tim translated: “SM caa”. I don’t see how the two are that different; back at Best Buy I used to get far more mangled requests that even I could decipher. But when I asked for an “SM caa” I got even more blank looks. I swear it’s the gaijin thing—just trying to make the foreigners sweat.

The next Wednesday we went to Wulai, a beautiful area up in the mountains. It was pouring rain but that only made the waterfalls even more amazing. I cursed myself for forgetting to charge my camera battery but trust me, it was incredible. Tim’s aunt went with us and kept marching on ahead while we lagged behind, hampered by Christine’s shoes and Camille’s newfound desire to take pictures of everything, having just gotten a big SM card a few days earlier. But I can’t complain, given the time it gave me to enjoy the views…and the fact that I got copies of her photos anyway.

When we got back to the bus stop to wait for the bus to take us down the mountain it was nowhere to be seen. We were with this group of little old Taiwanese ladies who eventually noticed that the bus was in fact parked right next to the stop. So a mob of them went to go investigate and found the driver asleep inside the bus. Picture these ladies growing increasingly militant, banging on the doors, demanding to let us get on the bus. I wouldn’t mess with a mob like that.

Thursday we left Taiwan, with one car taking us and one taking just our luggage. I’ve been on enough group trips to become a firm believer in the idea that if you can’t carry it yourself—nee, even lift the bag, you shouldn’t have packed it. Needless to say, Tim and I ended up as pack mules for Christine, who somehow managed to pack what I like to call a body bag so big she easily could have fit inside. She somehow also managed to go over the JAL weight limit of 70 kg per bag. That’s more than she weighs…

There were amazingly few masks worn in the airport that day—but we all wore ours. JAL pampered us for a few more hours, till we got to Tokyo.