On early mornings with dew dripping along the way, people hike toward the dense morning fog. The Taipei sky was clouded in the pale blue mist. Several experienced hikers follow their ultimate instinct through the dark trails. They just follow the large steps–never doubt the way to go. The sense of reaching the top is keener, heightened by footsteps climbing up the steep rails. Heavy breathing, scattered words of encouragement, and conversations out of breath kept people company till the break of dawn. Slowly as the mist disperses, a hazy orange pours, expanding the edge from mountains to the sky. Hush. Everything stops. Only the orange sunrise remains, splashing over the trail, complete with a stream of sunlight bleaching the clouded sky.

Hidden in the narrow valley, the hiking trail is a three-minute walk away from Takemura Izakaya, a famous dating scene. Miles away, couples are lining up outside the bar before its opening. As the door open at five in the afternoon, widespread smell of Japanese and Chinese culinary marriages soon filled the street. Fresh sushi and Takoyaki were served on the wooden counter. In addition to seafood, the bar blended creamy cheese into every serving. Inside the crispy casing of Japanese egg roll, egg yolk made up rubber consistency fillings. This famous design, along with other five-star dishes, lay under the dim light with cups of sake. I measured a portion of cheese filling, carefully to ensure the perfect balance. Taste another, I scooped the creamy cheese and ordered steamed tofu. With soft center in the rough texture, the tofu was even harder to be cut into pieces. Given that tofu was soft in its freestyle, a small bite was taken to ensure that it would not burn the tongue. Satisfied, I turned in the direction of mountain.

After three left turns, past a temple and an orange juice stand, the foot of the mountain stood at the end of the road. People suddenly crowded toward the dark valley. Hikers often came after the dinner at Takemura Izakaya, lining up in pairs to explore the only lush greenery in Taipei. There were three paths: one with the simplest route, another with a faster yet steeper track, and the other with minimal signage ahead. We chose the one least noticed.

Rapid breath, pouring sweat, and freezing wind accompanied the hike in the pitch dark silence. Among the wilderness, some little creatures from the bushes blinked at us. We picked up our speed to pass the winding path, crunching leaves and branches underfoot. Twinkling stars directed the path through the curvy hill. After twenty minutes, we finally came to the intersection and stopped in front of a giant rock. A long line was waiting to capture the panorama of Taipei. Insomnia was celebrated here.

We walked to the pavilion behind that overlooks the night of Taipei. Standing at the top o­f the urban jungle, everything shrinks—from high buildings to Taipei 101—to a miniature of the maze. The darkness swallowed the street, the height, and the fear. Confronting a mouthful of mountain air, I embraced the solace of Taipei night. The image was vivid as it ever was—the thriving metropolitan calmly lay within the basin. From the peak is the sight of Taipei invisible to most people’s eyes.