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PHOTOGRAPHY: GETTY IMAGES / TOP PHOTO GROUP / JILL SU
T
he remote and windswept places of the world have
a pull that defies reason; there’s something about
them that calls out to our need to see what’s around
that corner — to settle that next ridge or stake our
claim beyond the last charted hill.
In exploring Penghu, a Taiwanese archipelago in the Taiwan
Strait otherwise known as the Pescadores, one gets the
impression it was a similar primordial urge that saw the isles first
settled some 5,000 years ago.
With rugged coastal cliffs of columnar basalt, tabletop
islands largely devoid of growth save for the hardiest shrubbery,
and winter monsoon winds that whip and erode the soil from
October to March, it’s a place that drew the type of men and
women who put their faith in the gods and goddesses of sea and
mercy, confident that their benevolence would continue so long
as they remained pious.
TIMELESS TEMPLES
Perhaps this goes to explain Penghu’s abundance of temples.
Makung, the largest town on Penghu Island, is the closest thing
there is to a city in the horseshoe-shaped formation of connected
townships joined by a system of bridges.
Among Makung and the other townships of Huxi, Baisha,
and Xiyu, the number of tributes to the gods per capita must be
higher than anywhere else in Taiwan. In Makung, near the
commercial harbor, follow Central Street, a narrow alley of old
two-story homes converted into gift and snack shops and small
restaurants, to the Empress of Heaven Temple.
At over three centuries old, it was built by Mainland Chinese
settlers as tribute to Matsu, protector of seafaring people. It claims to
be the oldest Matsu temple in all of Taiwan, and to this day remains a
place of pilgrimage for devout Buddhists and Taoists alike.
A group of rocky islands in the middle of the Taiwan Strait, Penghu has a
stark beauty and a laid-back vibe.
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