December 12, 2021
December 12th
in search of novelty
The other day I listened to a neuroscientist from Stanford talk about time. He said that as children, we lay down more memory because many of the things we experience are new and there's more to draw on - making time seem longer. In contrast, older people don't have so many new experiences and therefore time appears to go fast. I can attest to that. He concluded that if older people have more novel experiences, time appears to go slower. I need more novelty.
Instead of the usual ride into town, I do a quick search on Google Maps, wondering if there are any side streets nearby that we haven't cycled down before. It turns out there are a few on the way to the small river, ones which we've cycled past a few times, but which looked to be just a couple of short dead-ends. However, about a dozen small blocks are in a grid and the Street View shows older properties there. They'll be new to us.
We don jackets and head for a coffee well after 10 o'clock, with my small camera bag slung over my shoulder. As forecast, it's cooler this morning, with clouds covering the sky and dropping a not too subtle hint that it may rain before the day's out. While it's more like winter, it still feels relatively mild for this time of year.
We cross over the main junction - with the 112 - a few minutes from home and soon make a right down the first side street we get to. It's only seconds later that we ride past a house I noticed on Street View, one with old wooden sliding doors painted a turquoise green that's nicely faded.
The street kinks a little and brings us to a T where we make a right to head back towards the main road. That's when I spot a wooden trestle against a rendered wall. It's hard to say when the thing was last used. It looks pretty wonky and it's the sorry state it's in that makes it photogenic.
Closer to the junction someone has got territorial and possessive about parking spaces. White paint has been daubed in a rough rectangle on the wall, probably quite a few years ago now, and a couple of red arrows indicate the boundaries of this self-proclaimed spot. What's a bit weird and self-defeating is the edge of has an assortment of stuff cluttering it -plant pots and traffic cones. Who knows what went on between neighbors.
We go down the 112 for less than a minute, then make a right onto a side street because the homes appear to have been built around the same time. It's hard to say when that was, but probably in the 1960s, or even later. You'd be forgiven for thinking they are older. This whole area has quite a lot.
Zhongli District, where we live, is written 中壢區 in Chinese and that first character - 中 - is a common one and as you may guess when you look at the rectangle with a vertical line through it, it means middle or central. No doubt you've heard China referred to as the Middle Kingdom and if you see a Chinese-made map, the vast country is drawn in the middle, while Western ones show England there. China is written 中国 (middle country).
Anyway, Zhongli got its name because it's half way between two more important places: Taipei and Hsinchu, which is to the south. Originally Zhongli was just a stopover for travellers going between the two places and was just a rural place. It grew when manufacturing took off and the country had it's own mini Industrial Revolution. The houses we're looking at were built around then.
We follow a lane and pass a small area where homes have never been built - it's a patch of allotments - and see an older house that is detached and would have been a farm. It's a single-storey home, as they all were, and likely dates back to the early 20th century.
The walls on the house have been decorated and a shop window display in trompe l'oeil adorns one spot near the front door. It goes in my growing wall photo collection.
We've both had a bit of novelty this morning.
Breakfast was a mantou each. It's doubtful you get them where you live - they're basically steamed buns - and while I find most to be pretty bland, some have grains or raisins mixed in the dough. Debbie spots a place on the ring road she sometimes buys them from and we stop and she gets four.
We head down a nearby side street and veer past more houses that look to be 60-odd years old. Most have been renovated and have lost their character, now covered in off-white tiles and have metal doors that have replaced the original mosaics and carpentry.
The majority of windows, even on higher floors, have metal grills over them, making them look like prisons, and the grime that collects on insect screens gets washed off during showers and leaves streaks down the walls below. Protruding windowsills with a capillary groove would solve the problem .
We make left and right turns and come out near the back of the train station and call in at a second-hand shop, but don't find anything and make our way under the tracks to get to the Louisa we usually go to. Debbie says it's a bit too cool to sit outside, so in we go. There's a table free next to the window.
My class starts at 2:00 and it's gone noon already.
When I go up to the top floor to wash may hands, all the tables are full with teenage students doing homework assignments or revising. They will likely be here all day and buy just one drink, while on the adjacent table to us there are books spread out. Two young women come back and have drinks which they've bought elsewhere. Only in Taiwan.
Today's ride: 7 km (4 miles)
Total: 992 km (616 miles)
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