I had high expectations for Kinmen Island off the coast of Taiwan, but didn’t expect anything like this. This was purely glorious.
Maybe it was because the moment I stepped off the ferry, I was whisked back to a twisted version of backwoods Missouri, one speckled with Mandarin, palm trees and a faint salty smell. Suddenly, I no longer felt like a roughnecked backpacker outsider with tousled hair and legs blotchy with mosquito bites, an identity that alienated me in flashy cities like Hong Kong and Shanghai. Here, no one judged. Here, Marc Jacobs and Givenchy shop windows weren’t casting a glare on my features by nightfall, turning them ghostly. The villages shut off their lights at night, forcing me to find my way home in the shadows. For two days in Kinmen (jīnmén), I adopted the quiet life.
Midi Rocks Beijing, captured in this next Kaleidoscope.