As I mentioned at the end of my last post, I want to explore this statement. I suggested that it would not be what you would expect. I stand by that assertion, but I am saving it for another day.
More correctly, the point is not the same as the point with which I am familiar. I’m sure I have mentioned it in the past, but it’s all about learned behaviour, and about how one normal is not the same as another normal. Funnily enough, after I dangled the idea of writing about there being no point, I was (almost immediately) presented with another example.
I’ve used this term a few times in recent posts. I accept that it may be slightly confrontational in tone, but I feel it is important enough to warrant repeated use. I need to keep pressing this point home, in the vain hope that somebody with a suitable degree of power and/or influence might notice.
Before I go on, I should declare that I have a Youtube channel. Yes, you read that correctly; this old git has a Youtube channel. I didn’t intend to create one, but I have filmed some stuff in recent years and I couldn’t figure out how else to manage and disseminate said films. I mean content, I think. Apparently, I create content and it goes on my channel. Wow! I’m so 21st century.
Anyway, below you’ll find a link to a piece I filmed today. I hope it is largely self-explanatory, but I’ll discuss my points once you’ve had a chance to see and hear what prompted the recording of this first masterpiece of 2024. I apologise in advance if my tone seems off, and for the woeful attempt at a little bit of Chinese. Frankly, it reflects my state of weary frustration. Again, the question I have asked a few times in recent posts: “I can’t be the only person who can see this, can I?”
I have ridden along this particular stretch on dozens and dozens of occasions. This is not just a temporary fault with the lights.
I think what I’m trying to illustrate, here, is that there is no joined-up thinking, no sense of collective dismay at the stupidity of this and countless other junctions(?) which share the same characteristics. How many people pass through this set of lights every hour, day, week, month, year? How many have had to stop, wasting fuel and creating additional pollution? Why aren’t there queues of motorists writing to the authorities pointing out the sheer madness of this kind of thing? I think the reason is simple… on the whole, people here have no interest in challenging the accepted norms. Everyone thinks that it is normal to stop at a light, without question (although, paradoxically, red-light jumping is still at epidemic levels of frequency); everyone has passed the same driving test, for which they were not expected to think or question or challenge. The mindset is one of a bizarre kind of apathy when it comes to seeking reason and accountability.
Let there be no mistake, and let me justify my use of State Sponsored Environmental Vandalism… someone, in a position of power or authority, even if that be only at a relatively low level – perhaps a local highways official – has signed-off on this set of lights. I suggest that this results in environmental vandalism – fuel wasted (both vehicles and the energy for powering the lights), pollution created – because if the lights weren’t there, there would be a lesser impact on the environment. Bear in mind that this is one minor example. If you can be arsed to take a look through some of the other examples on my – ahem – Youtube channel, you will note that I am not making this up. Look for those titled “Appeal to President Tsai…”. Indeed, just help prove my point, consider this:
Here are two junctions on the very same road featured in my film, but about 2 kilometres further east. The first has lights:
I would assert that there is simply no need for these lights, as the only adjoining road is there on the left, and visibility is clear. Perhaps this will help to persuade you that my reasoning is sound. The very next junction, a few hundred metres ahead has no lights:
You will probably agree that these junctions look all but identical. For additional clarity, here’s an overhead view, where I have shown the location of the first example in red, with the red line running parallel to the adjoining road, while the second is yellow. Just what is the difference?
At risk of sounding utterly mad to be worried about such matters, I just don’t understand how drivers/riders at the first junction cannot be trusted to pass through the junction without the aid of lights, while at the second junction, lights are not deemed necessary. It is insane. Why does nobody else see this? Again, someone in a position of authority has agreed that this is appropriate. On what rationale? What are their reasons? It is patently absurd, and it is contributing to environmental vandalism.
Tell me I am wrong.
Please, please, please, someone else send this to the authorities. Ask them to send someone down to Tainan to explain why this is okay; to explain how it is not causing unnecessary waste and pollution. I am more than willing to be proved wrong.
See also: the Earth is flat. I’m all ears.
Oh, and before I leave, I have decided that the next missive will be published under the heading “There is no point.” Trust me, it won’t be what you might expect.
Although I have a great deal of respect for President Tsai, and I know that she has had to deal with issues far more pressing than those I have raised with her (or rather, I have tried to raise through the “Write to the President” web page), I was somewhat taken aback by the message she posted on Twitter (or is that X?), just yesterday. Here you go:
Somebody thought it was a good idea to use a driving metaphor. Really? ”Good drivers keep…” You have got to be fcuking kidding me. With due consideration of everything that is absolutely brilliant about Taiwan, referencing good driving is an extremely poor and inappropriate choice.
I wrote yesterday about common road behaviour which places me (and countless others) at unnecessary risk, so now seems to be an ideal moment to give a little background detail. Essentially, as I have noted elsewhere, the driver training and testing system is a joke. In such an advanced society, what passes as suitable skills and knowledge to warrant the award of a driving licence is, frankly, embarrassing. I don’t think I have my own film, but there are examples aplenty on Youtube, no doubt. Here’s one:
Notice how this rider keeps looking from side to side before pulling away. That is compulsory, even though it is patently obvious that there is nothing else around. People are taught to memorise a wholly inadequate test course and procedure. It is absurd.
Okay, this one is worth showing as well. Please, someone, anyone, tell me how this is still an acceptable form of testing drivers. Bearing in mind we are well into the 21st century, in a nation that is incredibly advanced, this is still what passes for a driving test. It is moronic. Probably.
Basically, everyone does this same test in a closed environment. The scooter test is done on sites about the size of a basketball court, while the car driving test is on a site about as big as a football field. Now, I may be off with my sizes, but the point is that the test is always the same, and always away from the real world. How any reasonable and sensible person could expect new drivers to be properly equipped for the road – after passing such ridiculous tests – is entirely beyond belief.
I have suggested that President Tsai should be ashamed. Compare the number of road deaths and injuries (an ever present epidemic) with the number of Covid cases and deaths in Taiwan. The numbers speak for themselves. The numbers should illustrate, quite clearly, that a common sense approach to a complete overhaul of the bullshit system would save countless lives.
There is also the issue of pollution, and what I am still calling State Sanctioned Environmental Vandalism, but I’ll come back to that soon.
Below, I have prepared a simple photographic essay. Sort of. I don’t have the technical skills to make this look brilliant, but hopefully, it will paint a clear enough picture. Of course, I shall embellish the whole thing with some words, in case painted pictures are not your thing.
Now, this was triggered by an actual event, this very afternoon. It was the type of event which I have experienced all too often. In fact, it would be fair (and probably accurate) to assert that this kind of thing happens on perhaps 95% of the rides I do, so I hope you’ll trust me when I tell you that it is cause for concern. Later, I’ll pontificate on why this happens, while the cause for concern should be obvious.
I was riding along this road
I was in this kind of position – i.e. a few feet from the kerb, as usual:
A vehicle was approaching from behind. Note that this is a one-way section, set aside for scooters and cyclists (although other vehicles may enter to gain access to places or roads on the right, while the main carriageway for vehicles can be seen on the other side of the grass-covered section to the left). Oh, for heaven’s sake, here’s what it looks like from on high:
A is for scooters heading south, B for other vehicles heading south, C for vehicles heading north, and D is the lane to which I refer, while little old me was around about where I have placed the yellow arrow. Forgive me if this is rather dull, but I’m attempting to illustrate and stress that, well, you know… there is plenty of fcuking room for everyone on this road!
Back to the vehicle approaching from behind. You’d imagine he’d be positioned something like this:
Oh dear. You’ll have to imagine better than that. Imagine more like this, where the vehicle’s left side wheels are just to the left of the solid white line in the centre:
Bear with me, as here I should make it absolutely clear… there was NOTHING else anywhere near us. The road was empty; devoid of other vehicles. At a conservative estimate, I’d say he passed within 18 inches of my left elbow. Again, at a conservative estimate, he could – if he had been thinking about keeping my safe space intact – have passed with about 12 feet between my elbow and his wing mirror.
Here it is, then. In my world, and my understanding of the term, common sense dictates that there is no point in a close pass of a fellow road user when there is oodles of room to make a not-close pass. I can tell you that a close pass from a fast-moving vehicle is pretty hairy at the best of times, but when it happens in such circumstances and there is zero necessity to be so close – did I mention that there was NOTHING ELSE nearby? – it upsets me somewhat. I managed to catch the vehicle today, as there was a red light not far ahead. I swore at the driver. Just a little. I doubt he understood my Anglo Saxon expletives. I suspect he thought I was mad. ”Mad? I was absolutely livid!”, (with apologies to NTNON for slightly misquoting Gerald).
Before I move to the conclusion of my observation, I should make it quite clear that this is nothing like what many cyclists would identify as the ‘punishment pass’. In the UK, it is not uncommon for a certain type of arsehole driver the make a deliberately close pass, to let you know that they are angry because you’ve delayed their journey by 30 seconds. Trust me, that is really scary. No, here in Taiwan, it is essentially entirely innocent, in the sense that the close passer simply has no concept of how common sense should prevail and how maximum passing space should be allowed, wherever possible, and especially where the road is otherwise clear of other vehicles. You see, drivers and scooterists are just not trained and tested effectively. It’s a simple as that. As I mentioned at the beginning, this was not an isolated incident. I am passed with insufficient room on almost every ride I make; insufficient room when there is plenty of room, if only the driver or rider would engage a few brain cells and deploy common sense. That, to me, suggests that there is an underlying failure in the system.
Common sense dictates that if your training and testing systems are inadequate, then clever people and people in positions of power and authority should be taking action to address such inadequacies. Shouldn’t they, when the deaths and injuries rate is so high? If I can see this, why can’t anybody else? I’ll return to this, anon.
Do me a favour. Send a copy of this to President Tsai. If you all do it, nothing will happen, but it will make me feel better. Ta.
In spite of the fact that I am not much of a fan of some of the madness on display here, Taiwan is actually brilliant in so many ways. One of these ways is that you never really know what to expect. I love the fact that this taxi has been adorned with a load of pointless crap.
Similarly, at the other end of the spectrum, I love the fact that someone decided that a Porsche would make the perfect yellow cab.
Now, some of you may recognise that as the title of a track by Genesis, taken from the post-Gabriel era album A Trick of the Tail. Not one of their better songs, but the album happens to be the first album I ever bought, so I hold it in some esteem. Anyway, fear not. This isn’t heading towards some ramblings about the brilliance of prog rock, although maybe that’s something for me to consider at a later date (don’t say you haven’t been warned). No, this is about Tuesday 2nd January 2024.
The day began like any other, pretty much. My body took several minutes to come to life; my brain took several more; my heart just wasn’t in it. Still, it was the second day of the new year, and I suddenly felt compelled to get off my arse and make the most of it. Since I’d spent the previous afternoon in the garage, tinkering and fettling – bikes need attention, and I don’t neglect my bikes – I knew I should get to tidying up the garage . Bikes needed re-hanging on the walls and tools needed replacing in the toolbox; bits of old cables and cable housings needed binning, along with strips of old insulating tape following some handlebar tape re-wrapping. Plan formed in my brain, confirming that, once I’d finished, I could get out for a spin on one of said bikes. One of these, waiting to be put away:
Here’s where it began to take a turn; a sinister turn, if you will. Well, not that sinister at all, actually. Just a turn to upset my plans. How? The bloody car wouldn’t start. You see, to allow me the space and freedom to sort out the garage, that garage needed to be devoid of precisely one car. Dead battery said “No!” I said, “Oh, crap!”
Here, I should interject with an admission. I think I have only myself to blame. Some weeks ago, I opened the bonnet and spotted this:
Was that corrosion? Certainly a deposit of something not good for a battery? Dr Goooooogle soon advised me that it could be an indicator of imminent failure. I soon advised Dr Gooooooogle that a quick clean up and a liberal application of Vaseline would cure this disease. At best, I delayed it for about a month. Guilty as charged, m’lud.
Solution? Slap on the charger to (hopefully) give it enough oomph to get the motor started, phone Mrs T, arrange for replacement battery, dust off the credit card. That’ll do it. Except, during that the process of reconnecting the ailing battery to check that it was sufficiently powerful to start the old flat-four, I managed to drop the 10mm socket into the engine bay. I heard it land on what sounded like plastic. No problem, there’s a plastic splash tray under the engine bay, so I’ll find the socket in no time. Ha! 15 minutes later and the bastard socket was nowhere to be seen. I had 20 minutes to get the car to the garage to have the battery fitted, so off I set, convinced that young Master 10mm would either fall out, never to be seen again, or lodge himself somewhere nasty, either to rattle the sanity from my very being, or to henceforth break some pump or pulley or switch or thingummy. I told you, my glass is always half empty.
Fast-forward an hour or so. Can’t stop fretting about that socket, so I take the car into the adjacent car park where I can lift the front end, thanks to some handily placed kerbstones, and thereby have better access to the splash tray. I had to remove it, to satisfy myself that that shiny lump of metal was no longer hiding; hiding and waiting to wreak some kind of psychotic revenge. No problem. The tray is held on with eleven plastic clips, which are easily prised out with a flat-head screwdriver, and four bolts. Erm, yes problem. They are bolts, two of which are recessed so I will need a socket. A 10mm socket. Actually, no. A 12mm socket, but guess what…
Yup, my basic set has an 11 and a 13, but…
FFS!
Thankfully, being a relatively resourceful kinda guy (ha!), I managed to cobble together the means to undo the bolts by careful application of, not one, but two adjustable spanners. Thus, tray removed. No socket lodged on the tray. All ledges and whatnot near the battery checked as best I could, either with fingers or bad eyes or phone camera. Nowt. Fair enough. It was probably being abused on the asphalt, somewhere between home and the car dealer.
Of course it bloody wasn’t. Just as I knelt to begin replacing the splash tray, a glint of sunshine reflecting off something shiny caught my eye. The bastard, bastard socket was just there, tucked in behind part of the front bumper trim, and I managed to remove it within seconds by simply pulling the (plastic) bumper slightly to one side. F.F.S!
So there you have it.
Robbery – NT$5,600 from my credit card.
Assault – my sanity took a beating.
Battery.
Oh, and I stand by what I’ve been saying for years. Batteries will always let you down. Phone, laptop, Garmin, watch, singing Christmas hat, you name it. It happened in my Mondeo on New Years day back in the UK when Mrs T was 8 months pregnant. Sudden failure; no warning. I’m sorry, but I won’t be buying an electric car any time soon. So there.
It’s not all doom and gloom. Although yesterday was a challenge – more of which tomorrow, perhaps – there was a brief moment of something brighter.
For context, way back when I first came to Taiwan, I was amused, perplexed, irritated, and even charmed on an almost daily basis. How so? (I hear you ask). Well, take a look back at a couple of missives from when I was a bit wet behind the ears as a new immigrant to Taiwan. Indulge me, if you will, by refreshing yourselves with the following:
You might imagine, and you’d probably be correct, that such things have lost their appeal. This is Taiwan; this is how it is; one adapts; it is normal.
Nevertheless, half way through a pretty testing Tuesday, I happened upon this little beauty:
It made me smile like an idiot. Let me just fill the space with some gibberish, just to draw out the suspense before the big reveal.
Sadly, as I continue down this gentle slope of decline, the good old prostate endures that I’m a frequent visitor to gents’ urinals, but this one made it all worthwhile. It did also remind me of something my dear old dad was happy to repeat; advice for the chaps, as we age disgracefully. ”Never trust a fart, never waste an erection and never pass a public lavatory.” I may not have got that absolutely right, but it’s certainly the kind of thing he would have said, because he was a clever old sod, and he knew what he was talking about.
After publishing my piece the other day, I thought I should just check for a definition of common sense. Here are two typical examples, first from dictionary/cambridge.org: “the basiclevel of practicalknowledge and judgment that we all need to help us live in a reasonable and safe way“, and another from wikipedia: “sound, practical judgement concerning everyday matters, or a basic ability to perceive, understand, and judge in a manner that is shared by (i.e., “common to”) nearly all people”. I am particularly interesting in this second one, because of the “nearly all people” element. I’d say, the nearly all percentage is far lower here than in many other places.
Okay, back to an experience I’d like to share.
I was riding back from the railway station, yesterday afternoon. I can offer no better example of what I mean by the general lacking of common sense. Yes, I know this is one silly example, and yes, I know, most people wouldn’t actually do this, but I would bet my house that countless people had driven past, before I happened upon this abomination, and nary an eyelid was bat. In other words, nobody cares. Common sense dictates that parking like this is probably not a good idea; indeed, should you or I contemplate this action, common sense would (almost certainly) prevail. Dictate and prevail. Not in Taiwan, it seems.
Take a look:
For perspective, here’s a view from the other side:
And, should you be thinking this is out in the middle of nowhere, so it’s not really cause for concern, here’s the location from on high (the red star is my addition, obvs, and the yellow rectangle represents the car):
So, as you can see, it is on a junction with a major road.
I rest my case.
Oh, and I did check. The mirrors were folded, the engine was not running, and there was nobody inside. Ergo, someone had decided this was a good place to park.
Tell me I am mistaken to be bothered by this. If you do think I am mistaken, then simply allow me to stress that I see this as indicative of the mindset. Maybe it’s a good thing – indeed some have argued that it’s perhaps refreshing that Taiwan is not so bothered about this kind of behaviour – but look at the data. People in Taiwan are four times more likely than people in the UK to be killed on the roads. Undoubtedly, the standards in the UK ain’t great, but that’s a pretty frightening statistic. No?
Common sense dictates that the authorities should be on this as a priority, after all, look at the Covid response.
Yeah, yeah, I hear you! Sure, the tension with China is perhaps more pressing, but come on…
Rather, it dawned on me yesterday afternoon that it was eleven years ago (New Year’s Eve 2012) that we jumped on the High Speed Rail service from Kaohsiung to Hsinchu, headed north to move into our first home in Taiwan. We’d spent a few months with the in-laws, but a job offer had prompted us to rent a flat/an apartment in a new 12(?) storey block in Zhubei, just across the river from Hsinchu. It was a new flat. It was largely an empty flat. It was a bloody freezing cold flat. It was a flat in which I experienced my first earthquakes, and that’s not something I would recommend. I had no idea that the north of this island would be so much colder than the south… it ain’t exactly a huge distance north to south, but we might as well have been on a different continent. A cold one, with inappropriate clothing in my cupboard.
I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to be there, but I stuck it out. Within six months, a better job offer was on the table and we packed up to move south. We’ve been in Tainan ever since. I’m still not sure I want to be here, living like this. I have to put up with so much shit about which I really can do nothing. Well, I suppose I could leave.
Except that I can’t leave.
2023 was perhaps the worst year of my life. 2024 is upon us. I am hoping for something better, but my glass is always half empty.