Celtic Soul


The reflections on the window seemed more real than the rain and cars outside. In the reflection, the low wooden bars are warmly lit. Large glass water bottles, small plants, water glasses, napkins are neatly placed against the edge of the bar, like a common Japanese restaurant.

This is Otaru Cafe, and as I drink my rose latte from the wooden bowl, memories of the European influenced city in Hokkaido bloomed. It’s not a flowing piece of memory, but flashes of snowflakes, cabins, canal, coffee, railway, and chocolate. A tiny bit of regret appeared because Otaru is such a picture-perfect city, and snapshots is how I remember it the most, instead of really discovering the city. However, it’s okay, no worries, the wooden, old school city whispers. It’s calm and stable, and although full of tourists, unapologetic and stays true to itself.

It’s okay, the wooden atmosphere said. Now, in this Japanese atmosphere created in Taipei City. This night is fine. You were searching. You were wandering. You were alone, clueless, felt like you wasted time and money, but it’s okay, you were not. You landed here, and you decided to experience this place. You feel like the night was meaningless, but it’s not. You had a journey. You had an experience.

The cake is terrible, the rose latte is delightful, as is the wooden bowl. The place opens later than most.

How lucky, to land at a destination purely by experience, not by googling and planning.



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