Driving into Taiwan's capital of Taipei, one would think that green space is non-existent among the vast city sprawl and car exhaust. With horns honking and a skyline marked by decaying and modern buildings poking up everywhere, the chances of finding pure organic teas looks grim. Nonetheless, finding such rare teas was our reason for going to Taiwan.
Digging into my pocket, I pull out a small crumpled piece of paper. Scribbled on it is a barely legible name, Mr. Lee, and a long phone number with many dashes and zeros. I cling to it with my life, as this person cultivates prized organic tea.
The Guide
The next day my husband and I wake up and meet our interpreter, a stout lady with a very determined demeanor. She can take us to a place where the best Oolongs and green teas are raised—she's sure of this and I, in turn, now have faith. The woman takes us through many winding narrow streets at a quick pace like a military soldier on a mission. We whiz past yummy steaming food at the "hawker" stands ("hawker" is the name used for the street food vendors of Asia).
I see little buns baked in tiny stoves and every imaginable type of meat placed on sticks to be grilled. Fresh juices and fruit are all piled high for tasting. The smell of seafood hangs in the air. Our guide haggles for a couple of white pillow-looking bread buns stuffed with vegetables and tells us we must hurry or we'll miss the bus. We jog behind her, weaving in and out of stopped traffic, and jump a median strip as her hand flies to and fro to signal a bus to wait for us. The bus waits and we hop on board just as the squeaky metal door closes behind us.
The bus is old and the seats are vinyl and worn. Almost every seat is taken, but we manage to find separate spots to sit. The guide looks at us and says we are lucky because it will be a three-hour ride. After some tight traffic, we finally navigate our way out of the city and start our ascent into the mountains. The bus slowly chugs up the steep, narrow roads in the direction of Taoyuan, and I hope that we will make it before dark. I look back at my husband who is looking out the window with a doomed and trapped sort of expression. After a while as I peer out the dirty glass, beautiful landscapes start to unfold with lush green trees and bright, flowing streams. We pass by small buildings and towns, each seeming the same yet unique. With children playing and farmers farming, life appears to move at a slower pace as we ascend higher and higher. I soon forget about Taipei and the smog.
My book almost falls to the floor as the bus comes to a sudden halt. I feel a pat on my shoulder and hear the commanding woman's voice say, "Let's go!" We've arrived at Tea Town!
Time in Tea Town
It is 11 a.m. as we all stagger off the bus. We had left Taipei at 8 a.m., but got caught in traffic getting out of the city. We could have opted for a taxi but that would have been very expensive, and on the bus we had a chance to mingle with the locals and experience their way of life. Now, here we are in the middle of a tiny bustling village as I watch our bus chug away with a thick black, smoky tail.
Our guide calls to us and we follow her with a steady march over a huge wooden bridge. We pass by many different colored cement houses, and then turn down a few small streets. Our guide looks at piece of paper with an address written in Taiwanese characters. She pauses at a door, then shakes her head in frustration and leads us to march on to another building with big glass doors and large characters written across it. This is it—Mr. Lee's tea house. As we enter, the smell of tea fills our nostrils like a fine perfume.
An old couple greets us with many smiles and bows—Mr. Lee and his wife. Their family has been cultivating tea for four generations and Mr. Lee is a true tea master. He shows us his work in large metal drums that sit all over the room. Each drum is about three feet high and contains numerous types of teas—like Dragon Well Green Tea and precious flowery Oolongs. This is Mr. Lee's life work. His wife starts setting up Gongfu, or tea ceremony, for us to sample the fruits of their labor. As the hot water pours into the cups and the different aromas spring forth, we come to understand that tea is big business in Taiwan. With so many tea places and tea houses, competition is fierce, so a proprietor must have great tea to survive.
Mr. Lee explains the process of fermentation of each tea. Greens take less fermentation and Oolongs a little longer, while black teas ferment the longest giving them the strongest taste. All teas can be grown from flowers or fruit to give them the tastes of those plants, since tea is quite sensitive and can absorb the attributes of other plants. That is why, when cultivating premium teas, it's important not to be in a polluted environment and to be in the high mountains. Each tea grown in each year has a different taste and smell just like fine wines. Certain teas, like purer ones, can be costly depending on the year they were fermented. Each tea requires a different temperature of water. Greens and whites like 102 degrees less than boiling point while oolongs and black teas want very hot boiling water.
Speaking of water, we learn that you'll want fine spring water in your tea as water can make or break a tea. Even if a tea is wonderful, bad water can ruin it. Mr. Lee chooses mountain spring water for all his tea tasting. When we ask about organic farming, Mr. Lee smiles and explains that he has never formally certified because he cannot understand why he should pay such a high price for a piece of paper that "verifies" a practice his family has carried on for over 100 years. As we drink and try many varieties of tea, we most savor the Oolongs as they have varying layers of tastes and smells that, if carefully noticed, will change with each steep. A high quality Oolong can be steeped up to 20 times with a wide range of aromatic and flavorful experiences that will unfold with each sip.
After tasting many different tiny cups of tea and feeling a bit light-headed, we decide to visit the tea field. Mr. Lee takes us down the road and through a trail into a vast bushy field. These little bushes of true tea called Camellia sinensis are smaller than some of the original Chinese tea trees that can grow 50 feet high or more and live for over 1,000 years. The higher the elevation is, the smaller the bush; and the shorter the bush varieties, the more they are packed full of mysterious wonders and tastes. Mr. Lee shows us that you want to pick the top two leaves coming out of each stem of the bush. These are the most flavorful. They are also easier to reach and cultivate. Mr. Lee picks all his tea by hand, which assures top quality and reduces the possibility of mistakes such as missing these top two leaves.
Goodbye to the Lees
It starts to rain and get chilly, so we stop in a small hillside restaurant to grab a bite to eat. All the locals know Mr. Lee and greet him with many smiles. They seat us quickly and bring us plates of steamy, warm Taiwanese food. It is some of the best Asian food we ever had—made with love and served with tea, of course. With full bellies, we waddle back to the Tea House to place our orders. We order Greens and Oolongs. We discover tea oils and teapots and add them into the mix. We shake hands and exchange bows with Mr. Lee and his wife. Our interpreter does an about face and we march back out through the door into the rain. I hear the chugging sound of a bus drawing nearer and I know it is time to say farewell to the Tea Mountains of Taiwan.
Experience your own Taiwan Tea Tour: www.taipeitravel.net.
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