Final Day in Taiwan

The last day of any vacation often carries a peculiar heaviness, as though the air itself conspires in the knowledge of your departure. Here in Taiwan, that weight feels even more palpable.

I will miss this place deeply: its rhythm, its texture, its unexpected moments of beauty. Wandering through Kaohsiung felt like being immersed in a city engaged in constant dialogue with art, a city reaching toward something expansive and enduring through its relentless investment in creativity. The cold air brushed past me, seeping through the seams of my puffy jacket, while I clutched my camera tightly, steadying my hands to frame yet another fleeting moment: a street corner bathed in golden light, a man crossing the road, his shadow stretching long behind him. Every moment seemed worthy of keeping, of protecting.

And the food. There’s a quiet poetry in the way it reveals itself—each bite unfolding layers of tradition, craftsmanship, and history. Every flavour invited pause, its depth urging you to savour not just the taste but the story it carrues. There is a creative pulse here, a fierce pride among designers, artists, and entrepreneurs who are unapologetically themselves. They craft, they create, they take risks. And they do so with a confidence that is quite simply infectious.

I can already sense the stark contrast that awaits me back in Singapore. The gap is undeniable. We are climbing, yes, but there are still many flights of stairs to ascend. Singapore thrives on its precision, its efficiency, its relentless pursuit of productivity. Admirable traits, surely. But they come at a cost. Where is the room for the unexpected? For imagination and play? For dignifying creativity as an economic pursuit, a productive value in itself?

Here, creativity too often feels cloaked in class, tucked away in corners accessible only to those who can afford the luxury of leisure. It’s a sobering truth, one that deepens my appreciation for the vivid, unapologetic culture I’ve just experienced in Taiwan.

I suppose the return to reality is inevitable. Emails, schedules, obligations, they will arrive and demand my attention. But perhaps that’s the clearest sign of a holiday well spent. Taiwan has left its mark on me, a quiet but insistent imprint. I suspect that mark will linger, quietly shaping me, until the day I find my way back here again. I hope the energy stays and lingers for as long as it can.