rolling stock   2004-07-31

nothing screams "SUMMER!" like an outdoor music festival ... and nothing screams "CRAZY!" like a 120,000 people packed on a beach on a staggeringly hot day.


put the two together and you have either a "!?!CRAZY SUMMER!?!" asian t-shirt ... or the two crucial ingredients for rock & roll.


well ... throw the t-shirt back on the pile of dirty laundry. welcome to fulong beach and the "hohaiyan rock festival 2004" ... rock & roll mayhem.


fulong is about an hour east of taipei by train. it's a fairly small town, but it has one of the best beaches in taiwan so it's a fairly popular destination for weekenders looking for some fresh air. i've heard the road to fulong is long, winding, and subject to interminably lengthy traffic delays. fun, fun, fun. but ... who doesn't like to jump into a car ... roll down the top ... and head for the coast on a one lane highway? kerouac dug it and so do millions of taiwanese. they hit the gas and pass on the grass.


the easiest way to get anywhere in taiwan is by train. the trains in taiwan aren't quite the moving cities they are in india. sure, there's the same number of people per train ... but remove half the cars and throw in sporatic air conditioning and you have a classic, taiwanese, horizontal elevator. crowded. hot. awkward.


if you're one of the chosen few you can buy a secured seat on a train. it's first come, first served and the seats always sell out so you have to be on the ball. phrase-book mandarin immediately reduces your chances of ever securing an assigned seat. the churning queue is always on the lookout for the lame antelopes in the herd ... like the two whitey's mumbling something about cheese, desks, and fire. something lost in the accent. when the queue spots a soft spot at the ticket window it surges forward and the assigned seats quickly disappear into hungry wallets and pockets.


no assigned seats for marlene and i.


our trip to fulong started at the taipei main train station. apparently the hohaiyan rock festival is popular. we had no idea how big it was going to be ... but the crowds waiting to board the eastbound trains gave us pause for concern. the trains were packed when they rolled into the station and by the time they left they were even more packed.


now ... when i say "packed" ... i don't mean "full" ... and i don't mean "pretty full" ... and i don't mean "wow, i can't believe how many people can fit on a train." packed ... like when those wacky engineers pack 22 people into a volkswagon beetle. i mean PACKED! dangerous packed. breaking safety regulations packed. stupid packed.


the trains to fulong were running about once every two hours so boarding the first available train was a must. take no prisoners. sucker punch if you have to. i hate to leave my western sensibilities behind when i'm abroad ... but if you want to get ahead ... sometimes you have to do as the taiwanese do.


so ... we didn't board the first train. the crowds were just too intense. we were walking into the fray with only a couple months of practice under our collective belt. the old woman with the fiery eyes carrying the buckets and miscellaneous sticks wiped the floor with our hesitation. she knew the routine. keep low. jab at the ribs. don't look up. keep your focus. every person for themselves.


you have to position yourself just right. if possible you have to align yourself directly in front of where the door will open. which we thought we had. however, there's no accounting for the occassional wheeze and puff of a train lurching it forward a few precious feet. you've suddenly dropped from pole position to second string jockey at the back of the pack. 50 people are now primed to mount an assault on your door.


we were reduced to jumping vainly up and down on the fringe of the crowd. kind of pathetic really. then ... like a swarm of starlings ... the crowd suddenly swirled away from the car and flew down the platform towards the end of the train. no choice but to follow.


no luck boarding at the rear of the train either. the doors were absolutely chockers. the real kicker was ... as the train started to pull out of the station it was clear that a further four or five people could have squeezed onto the train. there was much gnashing of teeth and yelling at the departing train. there was no noticeable difference in the number of people crowding on the platform.


after a few minutes of bemused frustration another train pulled into the station on an opposite platform. again the crowd wheeled and rushed for the train. we didn't hesitate. we flew towards the doors and jammed ourselves in. we had no idea if the train was headed towards fulong or not. given the number of people making the rush, however, it seemed like a pretty safe bet.


fortunately the chips landed the right side up and lady luck was in a good mood.


stage one underway.


the trip to fulong was all i could hope for and more. i had mr. "sweaty" pressed up against me on one side ... his grey, t-shirt melting into a pale and sickly film. ms. "fainting" collapsed against my back ... her perfume barely masking her b.o. mr. "bad teeth" talking very loudly no his cell phone for an hour and a half. "yeeeah ... ease up on the yelling, guy." three crazy old ladies with chips on their shoulders. "hey ... if you hate me ... just tell me. no need to take turns elbowing me in the kidneys for 90 straight minutes." and a whole cast of other characters including mr. "punk rock" with the electric blue hair and black eyeliner. rock and roll ... asian style.


i lost all feeling in my fingers and hands from holding onto an overhead bar for 90 minutes. when we finally reached fulong and tumbled off the train i thought i was one step closer to stephen hawkings. a bit of an awkward show giving my ticket to the station agent with cucumber arms.


stepping off the train it was immediately clear that we'd arrived in the land of good times. it made us realize taipei is one busy city. to walk down a street in fulong without masses of people crowding around was instant relief. mental note: must get out of taipei more often. we stopped at a street vendor and picked up two delicious little desserts we'd tried at other night markets. a very thin, slightly warm crepe wrapped around shaved peanut brittle, cilantro, and mango ice-cream. whoa. what a deadly little combo. whoever thought that one up obviously didn't pass on the grass.


a general swell of people were heading towards the unmistakable sound of muffled, throbbing summertime ... the 2-4 backbeat of rock and roll. we joined the slipstream.


first ... the people. everywhere. there's a big beach at fulong and by the time we crested the hill for our first good look at the promised white sand, blue sky, and blue water all we could see was a sea of black hair and dripping wet clothes ... i refer you to the previous entry.


second ... the food. excellent. a looooong queue of tents set up along the beach selling everything under the sun ... well ... everything except fresh vegetables ... lets not go crazy. we spent a while walking down one side of the line and up the other checking out the food. lots of vendors with tiny habachi's grilling up a storm. clouds of grilled squid, chicken, sausage, beef, innards, and whatever else wafting over the beach. yum yum. loads of juice sellers squeezing fresh orange and kumquat juice by the glass. dumpling madness with the bamboo steamer crowd. of course ... the beer tents. there's nothing like a cold brew on a hot day on a beach in asia to wipe the stress away.


i discovered that taiwanese rock isn't my bag, baby. however, there were some non-taiwanese standout moments. most notably the moment the 5-6-7-8's took the stage. for anyone who's seen "kill bill" the "5-6-7-8's" are the japanese band playing in the restaurant before the blood gates open. a three-piece from japan playing 1950's surf music.


it was a special moment. the sun well past the hottest part of the day. tangerine clouds crashing together in the sky. feeling a little sticky and salty from swimming in the ocean earlier in the day ... sans jeans. my stomach full of grilled meat and sudsy beer. feeling tired ... feeling happy ... feeling life sure is one long, crazy, winding road. sitting on the sand at the edge of lush, tropically carpeted hills thinking, "here i am half way around the world from home on a beach in asia listening to three women with beehive hairdo's wearing amazing silver, sequin dresses playing 1950's surf music." wha' happened?


the fist-pumping crowd was thrown for a loop whe "the dirty three" took the stage. a noisy trio from australia featuring drums, guitar, and violin. all instruments cranked up to 11. all band members playing a different song at the same time ... all looking tortured and pissed off. the fists faltered. the lighters were slowly lowered. quizzical glances among audience members. many people deciding it was a good time to sit down and catch up on some socializing. a few caucs ... high ... doing some interpretive dance. i never get tired of watching the saltspring shuffle.


the "hohaiyan rock festival 2004." we came. we swam. we ate. we listened.


the only thing left for us to do was make our way back to the train station with 120,000 tired, salty people and leave.


we left. and this time it was on the first available train.


keep low. jab at the ribs. don't look up. keep your focus. every person for themselves.

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