Another day unfolding into heat and humidity, a promise or a warning of thunderstorms in the afternoon but this morning no reason to divert from eiskaffee back towards something warm as we decide to head down to Shifen,

Along winding roads, switchback turns rising as we move further into the hills, temple rooftops shining red against the darkening sky, below us river courses are marked only by a thinning of the canopy of leaves, glimpsed, water levels low, bare rocks rising above their surface as we travel towards Jingtong, the first of a series of old coal mining villages linked by a single track railway. The mines have gone now, leaving behind crumbling infrastructure now transformed into cafes and coffee shopes, stalls lining the main lane. The train station still open, gathering tourists who've stayed on beyond the more familiar stop at Pingxi, a mining museum offers cooler air, scant information of the history of the place but a wonderful cutaway model of the mines as they were. Returning outside, walking a little along the railway track watching the sky darkening, lasers of lightning stabbing into the hills, the sound of distant thunder moving north.

Turning back, finding that the platform's now crowded and realising that there's a train about to depart we head to the station, watch as a queue snakes out from the ticket office despite the possibility of easycard payment. “It's because Shifen means four ten, the very highest grade, very and hsing fu means happy or contented. So if you could read Chinese it would say that you got the train to very to happy.”
“Ah.” I reply.

Getting off the train in Shifen, stepping into the depths of a crowd, the platform edge lined with food places and stalls, the train departed the tracks are lost in a surge of people clutching paper lanterns their skins covered in Chinese characters or, in a number of cases, Vietnamese; wishes to be carried into the heavens, the sky filling with them as we weave our way through the crowds, moving towards the waterfall. On through the town, pausing for some noodles as further cracks of thunder explode across the hillsides, the sight of umbrellas filling the narrow alley as the first drops of rain turn into a torrent, heavy droplets rebounding from the paving, small streams gathering and flowing downhill as the dodgem dance of umbrellas in enclosed spaces passes for a momentary entertainment.