Day 18

We headed off to Danshui, to see my grandma’s school. We had originally planned on going a while back, but because of rain, we canceled. Today had clear sunny skies, so it seemed like a good day to do it. Plus the fact that I was leaving in a few days.

Anyways, we took the metro to the Guandu stop, where we planned on renting bikes. My cousin, being a fearless navigator, bet me a cold beverage she could get us to the rental agency within 15 minutes. We got there in 10.

Unfortunately, if you rented from this place, you had to return the bikes to this place. We had planned on renting, riding, and returning in Danshui, so we nixed and decided to hoof it to the next metro station, where we then took a train and met up with my cousin’s friend (the same guy who got his face threaded.)

Together, we headed off to see my grandma’s school, using my aunt’s newly purchased GPS as a map. Cute story: to protect the screen, she wrapped it with Saran wrap instead of buying one of those overpriced screen protectors.

We stopped for a lunch of Ahgay. Yeah. Ahgay. Despite its name, it was fdelicious (it’s like a sort of tofu-wrapped meatball covered in sauce.) It’s one of the few things Danshui is known for.

We got to the school, wandered around, and took a few pictures. It wasn’t really that exciting, though it was very spread out and the facilities were pretty nice, for a junior high school. Wish my town had that kind of funding.

Having exhausted all photo-taking opportunities at the school, we headed back to the Danshui metro station and wandered off into the nearby downtown, which was pretty much a nightmarket. Again, delicious foods, games, 1000cc drinks...glorious. Fuckin’ A.

We decided to catch a boat to Bali, and finding that it was pretty much the same thing as downtown Danshui, went for the long-awaited bike ride. We ended up riding one of those two-person bicycles and a mountain bike.

Let me tell you: those two-person bikes are fucking impossible to ride, and I seriously don’t understand how people do it. You’re pulling two people’s weight, and all those small unconscious corrective maneuvers you make normally are huuuugely amplified into ginormous wobbles that make the you look like you have kid Parkinsons combined with cocaine withdrawal. I gave up and made my cousin and her friend ride the demon steed, and stuck with the mountain bike. The view was pretty spectacular, and since it had rained a little bit, there was even a rainbow.

But then it got late and we had to rush back to get to my uncle’s Father’s Day dinner. We were still late, and I felt pretty bad..but he seemed pretty happy with the present my cousin and I had picked out, so it turned out okay.

Sidebar: Apparently people don’t wear swim trunks in this country. The shorts we got for my uncle are actually swim trunks (they have the netting inside), and they’ve never heard of swim trunks/boardshorts before. If you want to get into a pool, you have to wear a racing suit.

Goddamn. People who don’t race shouldn’t have to wear skintight crotchbulging jammers/speedos. It doesn’t keep the pool any cleaner (yes, that’s right. Wearing boardshorts/trunks is ‘dirty’ and Americans obviously dislike hygiene. Has anyone in this country looked outside their window? This country is the Earth’s asshole in terms of cleanliness.), and hurts everyone’s eyes when we have Fatty McFat with his fucking man tits hanging out tries to rock something Hasselhoff might have worn on Baywatch.