Keelung is a port that rains. It is the northernmost big city in Taiwan, a harbour town squeezed between steep green hills and a dark sea, and the damp climate is so reliable that the local joke is about carrying an umbrella as a matter of course. The harbour is busy, with container ships, ferries and fishing boats, and the old streets rise in steps up the hillsides, lined with shophouses, temples and the odd Japanese-era building.
It is also, to a Taiwanese, a place to eat. The night market that runs along the streets beside Dianji Temple, known as Miaokou, is one of the best-known in the country, with its stalls arranged in long, brightly lit rows, selling fried seafood, fish soups, noodles, sweet and savoury pastries, and a famous cold dessert of shaved ice. The speciality of the port is fresh fish and shellfish, cooked simply, often in a broth or fried with garlic, and you queue with everyone else at the stall that has the longest line. Stand at a counter with a bowl in your hand, as the locals do, and you have eaten as well as in any restaurant.
Riding in and out of Keelung is a lesson in Taiwanese traffic. The roads are crowded with scooters, which move in swarms and filter through every gap, and the city is a maze of one-way streets, tunnels and flyovers. Take it easy, keep your distance and watch for scooters coming from the side. Parking for motorcycles is plentiful, but you may need to find a marked space. Wet roads are slippery, especially painted lines and manhole covers, and the rain falls often, so a waterproof layer is not optional.
Above the city, the hills climb toward Jiufen, an old gold-mining town with narrow stairways and tea houses overlooking the sea, which is about eleven kilometres away along a winding mountain road. It is lovely and extremely crowded at weekends. Fuel is available everywhere in Keelung, and the roads to the north coast and to Taipei are straightforward. The driest months are October and November, though no month is reliably dry.