Dig a little deeper for the charms of Taipei: The Hedonist

What to see and where to be seen

Made in Taiwan: Shilin Night Market (Getty)

My entire body aches as I dip a toe into the soothingly hot water.

I’ve only been in Taipei for two days, but I’ve sustained at least two weeks’ worth of damage.

I need this soak, so it’s a good thing I reserved a private pool at Villa 32 (32 Zhongshan Road, Beitou; 00 886 6611 8888; villa32.com), a hot spring spa tucked away in the lush mountains above the city. Letting the mineral warmth wash over me, I try to recall exactly how I ended up in this condition.

It was dark when I touched down at Taoyuan International Airport 48 hours ago. I’d spent several hours knocking back Chang beers during a layover in Bangkok airport, meaning that my arrival in Taipei was somewhat hazy. A black sedan whizzed me down a near-empty motorway and the city came into view – a mist of apartment towers strung together by Chinese characters lit up in blinking neon. First impressions? Taipei is not a beautiful city.

It was raining when my driver dropped me at the door of Palais de Chine (3 Section 1, Chengde Road; 00 886 2 2181 9999; palaisdechinehotel.com), but the concierge ushered me in under a huge red umbrella and, after checking in, I investigated my 11th-floor room. The huge flat-screen television wasn’t going to get much use, but the oval bathtub looked promising. It would have to wait, though, because the hotel’s Le Bar terrace was calling. A bottle of Taiwan Beer and a steaming bowl of beef noodle soup was just the pick-me-up I needed.

Palais de Chine Hotel, Taipei (press image from hotel)

After a long sleep, I met up with an expatriate friend for the ultimate jetlag cure: gourmet dumplings at Michelin-starred Din Tai Fung (194 Section 2, Xinyi Road; 00 886 2 2321 8928; dintaifung.com.tw). We binged on signature xiaolongbao (soup broth dumplings) and vegetable buns, washing it all down with more of the local lager.

From there, we hopped on the shiny metro to explore Ximending, whose alleyways are designated graffiti streets full of street art. They combine Western and Japanese aesthetics (a nod to Taiwan’s colonial past) and reinforce the city’s democratic outlook.

There are plenty of options for a stuffy dinner in Taipei, but that night my friend decided to take me to her local favourite: James Kitchen (65 Yongkang Street; 00 886 2 2343 2275). A few of her Taiwanese friends tagged along and soon six of us were munching on fried oysters, pumpkin noodles and a grilled whole threadfin fish.

Next up was Jolly (29 Qingcheng Street; 00 886 2 8712 9098; jollys.tw), one of a growing number of American-style brewpubs, and a sampler flight of pilsner, Scotch ale, stout and pale ale.

Xiao long bao (bycostello photography/iStockphoto)

It was here that my friends started chatting to some leather-clad locals at the next table, and they invited us all to Velvet Underground (50 Zhongxiao W Road; 00 886 2 2314 1868), a rock club that doubles as a Mexican restaurant, where we were instantly absorbed into a throng of in-the-know musos pogo dancing to a Taiwanese punk band. My ears were still ringing when I finally crashed out back at the hotel.

I awoke famished again. Happily, I remembered one of the rockers from the night before had offered to show me where to find Taipei’s best street food, so I called him up and he escorted me back to Ximending where we munched on cong zhua bing, a flaky, salty spring onion crepe, accompanied by strong cappuccino – coffee culture is thriving in Taipei, with an abundance of open-air cafés.

Later that evening, I reconvened with my expatriate friend and a few more punks to head to the more touristy-but-fun Shilin Night Market on Jihe Road – crazy snacks, lots of beer, endless hawkers and rows of shops full of cheap socks, Hello Kitty paraphernalia and penis-shaped cakes.

I don’t remember much beyond gleefully bouncing into Taboo (90 Jianguo N Road; 00 886 02 2518 1119; taboo.com.tw), a nightclub where a NT$500 (£10) ladies’ cover charge drowned me in free drinks. The night slipped away in a blur of whisky cocktails and fist-pumping revelry.

The delicate wood and warm slate pool room at Villa 32 is as soothing as the hot waters it contains – it’s heaven in my hungover state. Taipei might not be immediately beautiful, but I’ve fully succumbed to its charms.

A Hedonist’s Guide to... (Hg2) is a luxury city guide series for the more decadent traveller. For more information, see hg2.com