Crossing the ocean to see you!Beyond the Blue Tears—what else is there on Matsu?

▲Most people who haven’t been to Matsu often wonder what Matsu has to offer.

Photos and text by Yu Jiayun

If you’ve never visited, the first question most people would probably ask is “What’s in Matsu?” That was also the biggest question on my mind before I set foot there, and even after going twice within a month and making four round trips between the North and South Islands, it still felt hard to describe the answer with just a few simple words. I say Matsu has the sea, but not the kind of sea you see in Penghu; I say it has military relics, but it’s not the same as Kinmen either. To be honest, Matsu feels more like what the term “outlying island” literally means. Once you cross the ocean and land on this island, those unresolved questions, complicated thoughts, and confusions all seem to dissolve into the vast sea breeze, and that’s when you start to truly feel the serenity here — to sense every nuance of the island, and to experience its unique calm.

▲Gazing at the sea and doing nothing in Matsu is both ordinary and luxurious.

This outlying island, which only began actively promoting tourism in the past decade, remains unfamiliar to most people on Taiwan’s main island, mixed with some imaginations from travel books or TV screens — and I was no exception. In my imagination, Matsu had dark tunnels stacked with liquor, camouflaged bunkers, and some weathered old houses. The Matsu in my mind was the color of yellow sand, which didn’t seem very appealing to someone like me who loves resort islands. But I was only half right. The Bay of Eighty-Eight tunnels filled with the aroma of liquor, the bunkers standing on the reefs, and the Minnan-style buildings made of granite — all those imagined elements full of history, culture, and military charm were real, but even more captivating than I had imagined.

▲The Bay of Eighty-Eight, where liquor jars are stored.

▲Rowing is one of Matsu’s traditional cultural features.

Perhaps because it is surrounded by the sea on all sides, the “ocean” has almost become Matsu’s sole faith. From fishing villages that rely on the sea for their livelihoods to the Goddess Mazu who watches over the fishermen, the sea is to Matsu as water is to fish — absolutely essential. In Matsu, even when you’re climbing up or descending steep, winding mountain roads, you’ll always catch glimpses of the sea between the ups and downs. Not to mention how vast the sea looks at Beihai Tunnel, the giant Mazu statue, or Shengtian Park, or how enjoyable it is to sip coffee by the sea in Qinpibu Village. When the sea conditions are good, you can take a boat from the North or South Islands to Da’wu, home to hundreds of sika deer, or to Dongyin, the most beautiful island that feels like another country. As long as the captain gives the go-ahead, this sea can show you endless views of Matsu. And when the sea gets rough, you learn to adapt — if the boats don’t sail, go fishing. No ingredients? Then the shops stay closed. Life in Matsu is dictated by the sea.

▲Qinpibu, known as Matsu’s most beautiful village.

▲Da’wu Island, a five-minute boat ride from Beigan, is home to hundreds of sika deer.

▲The once tallest Mazu statue in the world.

Matsu is mainly composed of four townships and five islands, each with its own charm yet equally simple. I used to think I’d seen the unadorned essence of rural life, but it wasn’t until I came to Matsu that I truly understood what a place looks like in its most natural state. There are no souvenir shops popping up everywhere after tourism development, no luxurious five-star hotels, no street vendors lining the roads. Even what locals call the “Shibuya of Matsu” near Beigan Airport only has a bubble tea shop, a fried chicken stand, a convenience store, and a few inconspicuous restaurants and guesthouses. It makes you feel like the nickname is more of a local joke, a playful tease for city folks.

▲% (Unintelligible or corrupted content — mentions preparing something called “The Stone Roof Feast”)