Thebesttravelbargainsoftheweek. 16yearsago. F6 ...

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F sunday , april 10, 2011 EZ IMPULSIVE TRAVELER More than OK The Sooner State’s capital city goes far beyond the infamous event that marked its identity 16 years ago. F6 Going Our Way A couple heads to the Pacific Northwest pre-baby. F2 Coming and Going An industry reconciliation, airline ratings and more. F3 What’s the Deal? The best travel bargains of the week. F3 CHAT We answer your questions Monday at noon at wapo.st/travelchat. BED CHECK Living history The past pervades every nook and cranny of this Pennsylvania inn. F3 ABCDE Travel Atlantic City likes reshuffling its image. But the beachfront remains its trump card. BY ANDREA SACHS T he fist-size roll from the For- mica Bros. Bakery has seen more than most clumps of dough. The Italian-style bread, which first appeared on Atlantic City tables in 1919, has witnessed the hey- day of the boardwalk, World War II training exercises, mobster shenanigans, the roller-coaster ride of the casinos and now the uncertain future of this once charmed Jersey Shore destination. If you’re not careful, you could choke on all the history baked into this simple ball. But take small bites, and it will all go down smoothly. Before I met Temple University professor Bryant Simon, the humble foodstuff would have meant about as much to me as the piece of toast I’d eaten on Wednesday. But accompanied on a tour by the author of the acclaimed history “Boardwalk of Dreams: Atlantic City and the Fate of Urban America” (Oxford University Press, 2004), I learned that by biting into it, I was tasting the American Dream — and Nightmare. ASSOCIATED PRESS Humanity at high tide on the Atlantic City boardwalk in 1935. PHOTOS BY HELAYNE SEIDMAN FOR THE WASHINGTON POST Ships and subs: The fishing fleet at Gardner’s Basin, above, and the White House Sub Shop, left, are among the attractions in Atlantic City. And then there’s Formica Bros.’ monkey bread. “It’s hard to imagine a place this small that generates so many stories,” said the 49-year-old director of American studies, who moved to Jersey at age 12. “Atlantic City is America on steroids, its best and worst features bloated and exaggerated.” Known for its casinos, its beaches and its 24-hour bars, Atlantic City occupies a perma- nent spot in our collective consciousness. In fact, with 35 million annual visitors and 3.3 million viewers of the HBO series “Boardwalk Empire,” you could even say that it’s been a little overexposed. Our mental memory cards hold such iconic images: the wooden boardwalk lined with benches; the sandy strand dotted with colorful umbrellas; the dazzling casinos; the deserted lots and disheveled houses. But these fragments don’t add up to a whole Atlantic City. Nor do they tell the complete story of a city that splits its personality between being “America’s Playground” and being “Always Turned On.” For the unabridged version, I had to follow Bryant into areas where the present had atlantic city continued on F 4 Betting on the Boardwalk

Transcript of Thebesttravelbargainsoftheweek. 16yearsago. F6 ...

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sunday, april 10, 2011 EZ

IMPULSIVE TRAVELER

More than OKThe Sooner State’s capitalcity goes far beyondthe infamous event thatmarked its identity16 years ago. F6

Going Our Way A couple heads to the Pacific Northwest pre-baby. F2

Coming and Going An industry reconciliation, airline ratings and more. F3

What’s the Deal? The best travel bargains of the week. F3

CHAT We answer your questions Monday at noon at wapo.st/travelchat.

BED CHECK

Living historyThe past pervadesevery nook andcranny of thisPennsylvania inn. F3

ABCDE

Travel

Taipei’s handcrafted welcome matDesigner boutiques andartisans are right up the

Taiwanese capital’s alleys

BY ERIN MEISTERSpecial to The Washington Post

At Taiwan’s Taoyuan International Air-port, a customs agent takes my passportand eyes it suspiciously. He looks up atme, one eyebrow raised. “Why have youcome to Taiwan?” he demands.

“I heard it was a beautiful place,” Ireply nervously, and the official’s gazesuddenly softens. He clutches his handsto his heart and grins widely.

“We are so happy to have you here,” hesays. “I hope you find it beautiful, and tell

everyone where you are from how friend-ly we are.”

Then he stamps my documents andwaves me in, beaming long after I passthrough the airport doors.

Although it has something of an inter-national reputation as “China lite,” Tai-wan possesses a vibrant national identityand pride of its own. Despite (or perhapsbecause of) lingering Chinese, Japaneseand Dutch colonial influences, the sweet-potato-shaped island has fought to ex-press its cultural, economic and politicalindependence, and a strong youth cul-ture combined with the marks of morethan a dozen aboriginal tribes lend ittoday a dynamic air of self-rediscovery.

My delight in exploring the country’scapital city, Taipei, comes after I shed anylingering dreams of pagodas and rollingrice paddies; instead, I quickly learn to

love slipping through dark, dusty door-ways into shops, restaurants and seem-ingly secret cubbyholes where cool urbannatives and hip travelers go to find thereal Taiwan.

That’s what I’m after on this trip:Local color in every shape and form.

Thanks to the country’s rekindledpride, “Made in Taiwan” no longer im-plies the cheap production of plasticnovelty items. Instead, it signifies a new-found emphasis on the local designer, theunmistakably Taiwanese artisan.

Finding them, however, can be diffi-cult. Some of Taipei’s most adventure-some and innovative producers aretucked into the city’s claustrophobic back

taiwan continued on F4

ERIN MEISTER FOR THE WASHINGTON POST

Buzzing with tourists and worshipers, Longshan Temple, built in 1738 and rebuiltseveral times since, is the heart of Taipei’s historic Wanhua district.

Atlantic City likes reshuffling its image. But the beachfront remains its trump card.BY ANDREA SACHS

The fist-size roll from the For-mica Bros. Bakery has seenmore than most clumps ofdough. The Italian-stylebread, which first appearedon Atlantic City tables in1919, has witnessed the hey-day of the boardwalk, WorldWar II training exercises,

mobster shenanigans, the roller-coaster ride ofthe casinos and now the uncertain future of thisonce charmed Jersey Shore destination.

If you’re not careful, you could choke on allthe history baked into this simple ball. But takesmall bites, and it will all go down smoothly.

Before I met Temple University professorBryant Simon, the humble foodstuff would havemeant about as much to me as the piece of toastI’d eaten on Wednesday. But accompanied on atour by the author of the acclaimed history“Boardwalk of Dreams: Atlantic City and theFate of Urban America” (Oxford UniversityPress, 2004), I learned that by biting into it, I wastasting the American Dream — and Nightmare.

ASSOCIATED PRESS

Humanity at high tideon the Atlantic Cityboardwalk in 1935.

PHOTOS BY HELAYNE SEIDMAN FOR THE WASHINGTON POST

Ships and subs:The fishing fleet atGardner’s Basin,above, and theWhite House SubShop, left, areamong theattractions inAtlantic City. Andthen there’sFormica Bros.’monkey bread.

“It’s hard to imagine a place this small thatgenerates so many stories,” said the 49-year-olddirector of American studies, who moved toJersey at age 12. “Atlantic City is America onsteroids, its best and worst features bloated andexaggerated.”

Known for its casinos, its beaches and its24-hour bars, Atlantic City occupies a perma-nent spot in our collective consciousness. Infact, with 35 million annual visitors and 3.3million viewers of the HBO series “BoardwalkEmpire,” you could even say that it’s been a littleoverexposed. Our mental memory cards holdsuch iconic images: the wooden boardwalklined with benches; the sandy strand dottedwith colorful umbrellas; the dazzling casinos;the deserted lots and disheveled houses.

But these fragments don’t add up to a wholeAtlantic City. Nor do they tell the complete storyof a city that splits its personality between being“America’s Playground” and being “AlwaysTurned On.”

For the unabridged version, I had to followBryant into areas where the present had

atlantic city continued on F4

Betting on the Boardwalk

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F4 EZ EE KLMNO SUNDAY, APRIL 10, 2011

After all these years, the old AC is still coolabandoned the past, and the futurelooked backward.

But first, I needed to finish my roll.

Trim and stylish in casual black,Bryant looked more like a World Seriesof Poker player than a scholar. Instead ofsensible shoes and wire-rim glasses, hewore dirt-stomping boots and modframes. He walked with purpose andwas drawn to both the light and thedark. He was the perfect Atlantic Citytour guide, or Texas Hold ’Em coach.

“I got interested in AC riding my bikeon the boardwalk,” said the marriedfather of two, who has lived and workedin the area on and off for 25 years,“trying to make sense of how to connectthe dots between the wonderful photo-graphs of the crowds, hotels and piers ofthe past and the strange and unevenlandscape of the casino town.”

Most people start their visit in one ofthree places: the boardwalk, the Walkoutlets, or Borgata, the glittery casino-hotel that helped lift AC’s reputationwhen it opened eight years ago. We,however, began in the grumbling belly ofthe city.

Leaving Formica’s, we crossed thestreet to the White House Sub Shop, acorner restaurant proud of its age andthe famous mouths it has fed. Outside, aman dressed in kitchen whites waslocking a shopping cart to a streetlight.The cart was filled with loaves of

atlantic city from F1 Formica bread that would soon bestuffed with Genoa salami, meatballs,Provolone cheese, chicken parm andother fillings.

The sub shop — don’t dare say it sellsheroes or grinders — opened in 1946,when Italian Americans reigned overDucktown, the neighborhood namedafter the fowl raised in cages alongAbsecon Bay. Some of the restaurant’searliest customers were World War IIsoldiers who trained on Atlantic City’sbeach, a stand-in for Japan, and spenttheir downtime eating Italian subs.Diners recognizable by last name or hair— Sinatra, Monroe, DiMaggio, the Beat-les — also lined up at the counter. Theirmugs now peer down from crammedwalls. Famous or not, everyone gets thesame treatment, a giant meal and a wadof napkins.

“That’s a big sandwich,” cooed a manto his friend, who was gripping his lunchlike a baseball bat. “It’s not a sub, it’s amarine.”

Ba-da-bum.

Atlantic City, actually a 48-block-longbarrier island, is arranged in a grid, withocean-named streets running east-westand state streets north-south. (For arefresher course, dust off your oldMonopoly board.) Before the votersapproved gambling in 1976 and the firstcasino-hotel opened two years later,Atlantic City resembled a mini-globe,with ethnic neighborhoods (Irish, Ital-ian, Jewish) evoking the motherlands

themselves.Residents occupied brick and clap-

board rowhouses, living on the upperfloors and running shops and restau-rants on the ground level. A few rem-nants of this era still exist — walk theside streets for a fading snapshot. Butmany of the houses were demolished for

AC’s next generation.“Atlantic City’s history has been bull-

dozed,” said Bryant. “If you really wantto see the history, you have to go to themuseums and the restaurants and lookat the pictures on the walls.”

One of those museums is the AtlanticCity Historical Museum, co-founded byVicki Gold Levi, daughter of the city’sfirst official photographer, (Al Gold,

from 1939-1964), and a consultant forthe HBO show. Another is, unofficially,the hallway of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel.

Only members of the Ritz condoassociation (or interested buyers) canenter the gilded lobby, but you don’tneed to drop any names to walk throughthe long marble entryway. Black-and-white photos decorate the walls, and thepictures are so large, I felt as if I couldcrawl into the frame and go back acentury.

If that were possible, I would havebeen able to join the dolled-up womenand jaunty men as they peacocked upand down the boardwalk. I could havelined up to see such carny spectacles asthe boxing cats, the 65-foot-long whaleand the diving horse that plunged 40feet into the water. If it were Bryant’sdecision, I would have escaped into theimage showing a gaggle of grinningbeachgoers, all white except for one darkface. While there, I would have tactfullyinquired about the mixing of races,shocking for those times.

“I would love to know the story aboutthat one,” Bryant said. Before full inte-gration in the 1960s, he explained,African Americans were largely restrict-ed to the blacks-only Chicken BoneBeach.

Unfortunately, the photos are meantto amuse the eye, not educate the mind.

The house of Vera Coking, a widowwho battled a modern-day Goliathnamed Trump, is also lacking historicalsignage. You can probably figure out thestory using visual clues, though: a white

town house standing alone in the shad-ows of the Trump Plaza, a tiny mousesurrounded by hulking elephants.

In 1993, Donald Trump wanted toevict Coking so that he could add a limoparking structure to his casino-hotel.Coking refused to take the six-figurebait, and a bitter eminent-domain caseensued. The longtime resident pre-vailed, only to lose the house to the cityover property taxes. The house nowstands empty, except of significance.

While I cheered Coking’s fortitude,Bryant explained that some folks con-tested her heroism, claiming that shewas motivated by something other thanthe spirit of David.

No one, however, would venerate Paul“Skinny” D’Amato — except AtlanticCity.

Across the street from Jay Z’s night-club, a bronze plaque honors the 500Club owner, who was allegedly linked tothe mob. “Mr. Atlantic City” ran anillegal gambling den in the back of theclub on Missouri Avenue. (It burneddown in 1973.) The friend of mobsters —and Sinatra — hired such crooners andcutups as Dean Martin and Jerry Lewisto draw crowds. The sign recognizesD’Amato’s legacy as a club impresario;neither Martin nor Lewis earned suchcommemoration.

(Just so you don’t think that AC iscompletely delusional, the city does notexalt the legacy of Enoch “Nucky” John-son, the corrupt Prohibition-era politi-

atlantic city continued on F5

For local color, you’vegot it made in Taiwanalleys. You have to brave the many mo-peds whizzing recklessly by to reachthem. But the peril’s worth it.

I discover an undeniable diamond inthe rough in Figure 21, a don’t-blinksliver of a leather-goods boutique hiddenin one of the East District’s many unas-suming corridors. Each piece here —deliberately cockeyed change purses andmeticulously hand-stitched saddlebags— has a personality of its own. Thebuttery-warm smell of leather hangs inthe air of the studio-like boutique, whererough-and-ready briefcases rest casuallyalongside oddball knickknacks and vin-tage books, as though absent-mindedlyleft behind on a living-room shelf.

Venturing northeast, near the Zhong-shan MRT Station, I pop into anotherpair of local-focused shops for a quicklook around — and end up losing much ofan afternoon. At the quirky, minimalistBooday, I score an armload of unique,hipstery goodies, giddily browsingthrough stacks of chopsticks in hand-sewn pouches, off-kilter canvas bags andplayfully rough-hewn jewelry. Foundedby a group of friends as a design label in2003, Booday not only produces its ownline of screen-printed notebooks that sellfor about $6-$10, carry-alls ($50-$76)and T-shirts ($15-$30), it also stocks andpromotes local art and artists and pub-lishes its own quarterly magazine. In thehomey upstairs cafe, I can’t decidewhether to munch a house-made sand-wich or get lost among the stacks of CDsby Taiwanese musicians. So naturally Ifind time for both.

Next door to Booday is Lovely Taiwan,a not-for-profit shop focusing on aborigi-nal handicrafts and art from outlyingvillages — from intricately detailed ani-mal statuettes (about $26) to hand-wo-

taiwan from F1 ven fabrics adorned with native patterns(about $40). At first drawn to more banalgoodies such as soaps peppered withdried local herbs, I soon find myselfpuzzling over a set of beautiful bottles ofhoney- and plum-infused drinking vine-gar for about $12. A sweet-and-sourfavorite throughout East Asia, sippingvinegar is often served in small cupsbetween meal courses, purportedly to aiddigestion and balance your pH. Dozens ofmass-produced varieties are sold in theisland’s labyrinthine grocery stores, but Iwas pleased to find small-batch flasks touse as an unusual cocktail mixer backhome.

From mid-May, when the humidityskyrockets, sunbrella-toting locals forgothe charm of the shopping alleys to duckfrom one mammoth air-conditioned de-partment store to the next. While West-ern designers are well represented here,most of the better malls feature localproducers as well; I happily skip pastracks of Calvin Klein jeans for hometownhoodies by T-shirt designer ’0416.

At the Xinyi District’s not-just-booksflagship Eslite Bookstore, you can mean-der through seven floors stocked withgorgeous tea sets, funky pillows, hi-techgadgets and unique stationery from Tai-pei-based craftspeople. Of course, thebooks are notable, too: The stunningphotographs in such regional tour booksas “Taiwan Tribes Travel” by the localpublisher Guide make them great souve-nirs even if you don’t read Mandarin.

Department store food courts, mean-while, offer some of Taipei’s most deli-cious and inexpensive bites: crave-wor-thy shaved ice topped with fresh fruit(tsua bing), sizzling bibimbap (rice withvegetables), made-to-order sushi, friedrice, barbecue and even the odd twist on

Western food (cone-shaped pizza, sub-marine sandwiches stuffed with slicedfruit). Staking out a table can be stressful,but no one seems to mind my hungryhovering as I wait to pounce on a seat.

Some malls boast fantastic sit-downeateries as well. The famous xiao long bao(steamed soup dumplings) at venerableShanghai-style chow house Din Tai Fungare worth the long wait for a table on thebasement level of the Fuxing District’sPacific SOGO department store. Hugeglass windows separate hungry patronsfrom the dumplingistas in the kitchen, so

you can watch them hand-rolling eachperfect little pouch.

Classic pork dumplings arrive scream-ing hot, and waiting for the morsels tocool enough before sucking out the brothis a challenge. Despite the warnings onevery table about proper soup-dumplingtechnique, my tongue wags painfullyafter the first bite. Once they’re coolenough, though, the soft, salty snacksdisappear quickly.

Probably no comestible is as quintes-sentially Taiwanese as the xiaochi, or“little eats,” found at Taipei City’s night

markets. Some of these nocturnal hauntsare meandering collections of stalls andfood carts on streets lined with clothingand record shops (such as the TimesSquare-like Ximending marketplace).Others are more formal structures. Theoldest of these is the covered food courtat Shilin, where diners have sampled thewares of more than 500 peddlers since1910. Year-round, a crush of students,midnight noshers and hipsters fills thepleasingly run-down enclosure lined

taiwan continued on F5

PHOTOS BY HELAYNE SEIDMAN FOR THE WASHINGTON POST

ERIN MEISTER FOR THE WASHINGTON POST

Taipei’s Shilin Night Market is a popular place for a midnight snack. Stinky tofu, anyone?

“ This is themoment tochallenge the casinomodel. We need toemphasize what isgreat about AtlanticCity, and that is itsboardwalk.”— Bryant Simon,author of “Boardwalk of Dreams”

Sea and be seen: The Atlantic City boardwalk, left,unlike its HBO doppelganger, has benches facinginland for people- rather than wave-watching.Formica Bros. Bakery, above, has kept turning outItalian-style bread as the beach town has gonethrough one transformation after another.

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cian/racketeer whom “Boardwalk Em-pire” celebrates.)

Atlantic City never gained the samenotoriety or criminal lineup as Philly,Chicago and New York. “This was adumping ground for the mob,” saidBryant, referring to the town’s second-ary status in the mobster world. It did,however, exercise some control over thecement mixing and trash removal indus-tries and provided, well, protection tothe gay clubs that flourished in the1960s and early 1970s.

New York Avenue was the place tothrow a boa around your Adam’s appleand slip your man paws into a pair ofstilettos. Gay and drag clubs abounded,including one venue decorated in velveterotic art and Val’s, which was em-broiled in a legal case that predatedStonewall. When officials shuttered thebar, Val’s fought back — and won. Anearly victory for gay rights.

“This became a gay resort destinationafter they clamped down on Cape May’sgay scene,” said Bryant, as we stood nearthe Babes! sign of a strip club on NewYork Avenue. “But it was blown out bygambling.”

Casinos, now numbering a dozen,performed dramatic plastic surgery onAtlantic City. The behemoths, unnatu-rally blinged-out with neon, created animpenetrable wall between the board-walk and, well, everything else. Thehotels’ elevated walkways — fresh air isso overrated — further divided and

atlantic city from F4 darkened the city. Walking under thebridges at high noon feels like midnight.

“Atlantic City became as themed asanything at Disney,” said Bryant. “Youhave a Moorish castle and a Frenchchateau. They’re ripping Vegas off.”

Inside Trump Taj Mahal, I followedBryant as he speed-walked throughSpice Road, the hotel’s new restaurantrow built to compete with Borgata. Wewhizzed past Starbucks, Sbarro and Mrs.Fields Cookies, chains more representa-tive of a mall food court than an exotictrading post.

“Where are we?” Bryant asked withthe same tremor in his voice as a visitorlost in a Delhi market. “This can’t be theway forward, can it?”

To paraphrase Burt Lancaster inLouis Malle’s classic film “Atlantic City”:“You shoulda seen Atlantic City in thosedays.”

The city’s original incarnation in 1840was as a health resort catering tourbanites desperate for ocean breezes tocleanse their lungs. Ads promoted thedestination as a place to come “breathethe ozone.” The first boardwalk tookshape in 1870, with planks leading overthe sand to the ocean. The version wesee today — running parallel to thewater — appeared in 1896 and attracteda new breed of visitor: fancy folk whowould saunter up and down the prome-nade as if they were on the Champs-Ely-sees. Furs, hats and cashmere came outof the closets, a fashion moment even in

the summer heat. Now, the stores liningthe boardwalk sell clothing best suitedfor strumpets, but in the 1900s, theshops bartered in high-society goodsand services, despite the middle-classpedigree of most guests.

“It was an urban fantasy of how therich acted,” said Bryant. “It was theiraccess to the American Dream.”

To help me understand the red carpetscene, Bryant pointed to the benches,which face the boardwalk, not theocean. Of the two views, the peopleparade was more coveted. (For thosewho thrill on Hollywood inaccuracies,check out the benches in “BoardwalkEmpire”; they face the Atlantic.)

The city suffered two declines: thefirst from 1955 to 1978, the second in therecent economic downturn.

“Atlantic City needs to look back to itspast,” said Bryant, referring to thepre-gaming period. “This is the momentto challenge the casino model. We needto emphasize what is great about Atlan-tic City, and that is its boardwalk.”

In response to falling gamblingprofits, declining visitor numbers andsubstantial casino layoffs, New JerseyGov. Chris Christie took unprecedentedaction in February to gain state controlof the casino district. One part of hismulti-pronged plan is to resuscitate the$2.5 billion Revel hotel-casino project,which has been been stalled for months.

After Bryant and I strutted our stuff toan oblivious audience, we ventured overto Revel, the easternmost developmenton the Boardwalk. We parked in a

perpetual construction zone of emptylots and sagging buildings, one with ajunkyard for a front lawn. Interestingly,the down-at-the-heels surroundingswere not reflected in the hotel’s mir-rored facade. I saw only clouds driftingacross Revel.

Slated to open in summer 2012, the1,100-room resort breaks from casinotradition: It’s not campy, unless urbanglass office building counts as a theme. Ared crane stretched its long neck to thetop floors. Yet even though it was aweekday afternoon, the machinery wasidle.

Bryant said that the resort’s designincorporates a wave shape, but wecouldn’t make out the tidal swoop fromour position on the sidelines. We at-tempted to view the structure from thefront but had to abort the plan because alarge chunk of boardwalk was missing.Bryant climbed a dirt hill terraced withwooden boards for a higher perch. Itried to guess what might materialize onthat spot, running my idea by Bryant.

“Yeah, that’s just what Atlantic Cityneeds,” he said wryly, “a public infinitypool.”

For a wider perspective, we drove overto Gardner’s Basin, the tip of land onClam Creek. After grabbing a beer and abite at Back Bay Ale House, we stood inthe parking lot and looked toward thechanging skyline of the boardwalk.From this vantage, I could finally see theRevel’s wave.

[email protected]

with stalls hawking deep-fried milk, oys-ter omelets and da chang bao xiao chang(literally “big sausage wraps small sau-sage” — the little sausage is pork, stuffedinside a casing made from compressedglutinous rice).

I brace myself for another culinary riteof passage: trying chou doufu (“stinkytofu”), fermented blocks of spongy beancurd often served deep-fried and toppedwith pickled vegetables and a gooey,bittersweet sauce. The snack’s stenchvaries from vendor to vendor, but its barkcan mercifully be worse than the firstbite. Pleasantly chewy, it has a slightlysour flavor with a pungent, mustardlikekick.

In daylight, Taipei has a run-downquality that no one would blame you fordescribing as dingy. Summer’s extremehumidity leaves tracks of mold on manyfacades. The modern, glass-frontedbuildings surrounding the massive sky-scraper Taipei 101 in the Xinyi Districtsuggest a shift toward cleaner, starkerdevelopment, but a trip to older parts ofthe city reveals hidden corners un-touched by modernity.

The oldest section, Wanhua, with itswinding corridors and quiet decay, offersa glimpse of the city’s bygone days. At itsbustling heart is the busy LongshanTemple. I bump past a flurry of tourists,worshipers and monks selling prayerbeads outside the gates to reach thecontrolled chaos within, where hundredsof faithful light incense and presentofferings at myriad shrines to Buddhaand other deities.

Students in starched uniforms are acommon sight here, coming to plead forhigh marks on exams and good news atthe end of the school term. Other visitorsleave gifts of remembrance or tokensmeant to assist the unlucky in love.

In the temple’s shadow is the claustro-phobic artery known as Herb Alley, a hubfor Chinese-medicine vendors. Pushingpast loosely bundled dried roots anddried shark fins dangling from hooks, Iperuse open bags of exotic dried mush-

taiwan from F4

rooms, fragrant rose petals and pungenttangles of ginger and ginseng.

A short walk from Herb Alley is thecity’s wholesale fabric district. At itsnucleus stands a crumbling two-storybuilding crammed with textile mer-chants advertising silks, satins and varia-tions on the most popular local pattern: avibrantly colored background splayedwith peonies or other bright flowers,often referred to simply as “floral cloth.”After bargaining with a vendor sellingthe stuff sewn into pillowcases, I snatch itup elsewhere by the yard to use aseye-catching gift wrap.

Interested in more time travel, I take aleisurely day trip to the lush tea-growingregion of Maokong, which involves abreathtaking if vertigo-inducing sky-gondola ride. The mountain’s formerfame as an oolong-producing region hasfaded, but the gondola’s slow, 25-minuteclimb gives you an incredible bird’s-eyeview of tiny backyard vegetable gardensand temples snuggled in the dense foli-

age below.Once in hilly Maokong, I have some

serious hiking to do before reaching thestrip of Zhinan, the main road flanked byteahouses. I settle on a teahouse highatop a ledge for the fabled tea ceremony:a way of systematically brewing andre-brewing the leaves to draw out theirflavor.

There’s often a little wistful localmysticism offered while the oolong un-furls in its clay pot. “I grew up here, andmoved to the city as a young man,” the teamerchant says quietly as he pours bittergreen liquid into my cup. “It gets so darkhere at night, some people are afraid. ButI missed this place, and I came back. I’mnot afraid of the mountain. It is my home;I am from here.”

Just like the steaming cup of tea beforeme, he is very proudly made in Taiwan.

[email protected]

Meister is a New York-based writer, coffeeprofessional and author of the blog the

Nervous Cook (www.thenervouscook.com).

DETAILS

GETTING THEREAtlantic City is about 190 miles fromWashington. Take I-95 north to Route 42south to the Atlantic City Expressway.

WHERE TO STAYResorts Casino Hotel1133 Boardwalk800-334-6378www.resortsac.comThe property is dated, as it should be: Itopened in 1978 as the city’s first legalcasino. Rates from $64.

Borgata Hotel, Casino and Spa1 Borgata Way866-692-6742www.theborgata.comAC’s newest hotel (opened in 2003 in themarina area) attracts a scenester crowdand recognizable entertainers (e.g., KathyGriffin, April 16). From $139.

WHERE TO EATFormica Bros. Bakery2310 Arctic Ave.609-344-2732formicabrosbakery.comA local tradition since 1919. Breads andpastries from 40 cents.

White House Sub Shop2301 Arctic Ave.609-345-8599Order a whole or a half stuffed withmeatballs, cheese steak, Italian sausage,etc. From $5.50.

Back Bay Ale House800 N. New Hampshire Ave.609-449-0006www.backbayalehouse.comGardner’s Basin restaurant specializing inseafood (from $10) and cocktails served in32-oz. mason jars ($12.50).

WHAT TO DOAtlantic City Historical MuseumGarden Pier, 204 S. Vermont Ave.609-347-5839www.acmuseum.orgFind Sinatra, Miss Americas, Mr. Peanutand other local icons under one roof. Opendaily 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Free.

Ritz Condo Association2715 Boardwalk at IowaThe condo’s entryway features a gallery ofold photos.

Great American Trolley Co.800-487-6559www.gatrolley.comZip around by trolley; the Splash of AtlanticCity Tour runs June-September. $20.

INFORMATIONwww.atlanticcitynj.com

— A.S.

DETAILS

GETTING THEREUnited and Continental offer one-stop flightsfrom Washington Dulles to Taiwan’sTaoyuan International Airport, with faresstarting at $1,174 round-trip.

WHERE TO STAYHotel EclatNo. 370, Sec. 1, Dunhua S. Rd.011-886-02-2784-8888www.eclathotels.com/taipeiFunky modern boutique hotel. Rooms fromabout $170 .

Ambassador Hotel TaipeiNo. 63, Sec. 2, Chung Shan N. Rd.011-886-02-2551-1111www.ambassadorhotel.com.twA 416-room hotel with a European designinfluence. Rooms from $230.

WHERE TO EATDin Tai FungNo. 300, Zhongxiao E. Rd.B2F floor, Pacific SOGO department store011-886-02-8772-0528www.dintaifung.com.twFill up on delicious little bites, including xiaolong bao (steamed soup dumplings), pickledcabbage and shrimp shao-mai. Entrees startat $6.

Shilin Night MarketBetween Wenlin Road and Jihe RoadSomething for everybody in a hustle-bustleenvironment. Small bites $1 to $10.

North American Tea HouseNo. 19, Lane 38, Zhinan Rd., WenshanDistrict011-886-02-2938-6277All-wooden furniture and a scenic overlookadd to the serene quality of the oolongservice. Tea starts at $5.

WHAT TO DOFigure 21No. 1-6, Alley 29, Lane 205, Zhongxiao E.Rd., Da-an District011-886-02-8771-4498www.wretch.cc/blog/figure21Exquisite one-of-a-kind leather goods.

BoodayNo. 18-1, Lane 25, Nanjing W. Rd., DatongDistrict011-886-02-2552-5552www.booday.comLocal independent designers on the firstfloor; upstairs, sip coffee, discover newTaiwanese music and browse back issuesof the in-house magazine.

Lovely TaiwanNo. 18-2, Lane 25, Nanjing W. Rd.011-886-02-2558-2616Handicrafts made by Taiwan’s large nativepopulation.

Eslite BookstoreNo. 11 Songgao Rd., Xinyi District011-20-8789-3388www.eslite.comLocal art, housewares and gourmet foodcoexist with handcrafted stationery, hordesof magazines and books.

Maokong GondolaNo. 30, Sec. 2, Xinguang Rd., WenshanDistrict886-02-2536-3001gondola.trtc.com.twGondola ride $2 one way.

INFORMATIONeng.taiwan.net.tw

— E.M.

The bar is full at the Back Bay Ale House at Gardner's Basin.Left, the Vera Coking house, now empty, is dwarfed by TrumpPlaza. The widow refused to sell her home to the millionaire.

ERIN MEISTER FOR THE WASHINGTON POST

Folkloric puppetry has been a significant part of Taiwanese culture for centuries.At the Lin Liu-Hsin Puppet Theatre Museum, hand-carved faces express as much ofthe island's story when they’re still as when being manipulated by their masters.

Summer’s coming: The Steel Pier, farright, looms off the boardwalk asbeachcombers roam the shoreline.

Biting into an Italian sub at the WhiteHouse Sub Shop.