Yeh Shu-chi and his two sons once camped in the mountains of central Taiwan. His adventure on a dirt road to the camp was so arduous, Yeh recalls, he never left again.
Besides, what if the river raged near your camp swallowed your 7-year-old son or your 12-year-old daughter? “Flooding is a protective factor and there’s no way around it,” said the 42-year-old housekeeper.
However, when the trio came across free time before this year, when Taiwan was late for the start of the school semester to combat the spread of coronavirus, his mind focused on camping. And on a Wednesday night, they camped again, in a room long in an auditorium with tents spaced out of respect for social estrangement standards.
In recent years, camping in the great interior has become increasingly popular in Taiwan. And since the coronavirus transmission rate is one of the lowest in the world (less than 500 cases shown and seven deaths year-round on an island of approximately 24 million inhabitants), the concept of avoiding dirt and water in many cases outweighs the concept of avoiding indoor harvesting.
More than 60% of Taiwan’s approximately 250,000 monthly campers spend the night in indoor or indoor tents, according to Wang Hong-hsu, president of the International Camping Association. En Taiwan. And even in the era of coronavirus, he said, indoor camp nights increased to 4% this spring compared to last year.
Taiwanese citizens continue to wear masks on trains and busy shopping malls in Taipei. But they seem less concerned about dressing in a mask when camping indoors because of the length and ventilation of the pens.
In some outdoor camps in a different way, dozens of tents are spaced under roofs held by poles. In major cities, tents were installed in giant internal constructions of various levels, adding the 4,376-square-foot third floor of a white-walled workplace construction in the commercial city of Kaohsiung, where Yeh and his sons jumped into an elevator to reach their homes.
Camping in those spaces without campfires or stargazing. He also shared showers and play areas for children.
But the existing threat of COVID-19 in Taiwan is infinitesimal compared to the United States (with about 175,000 deaths, compared to seven in Taiwan), the result of a coordinated government strategy banning foreign inputs, focuses on locating contacts and full calls. for citizens. come home to go through a strict 14-day quarantine.
“You go hiking or on the beach, and while those places are relatively safe, if you go out with other people, there’s a danger,” said Huang Ching-tai, a doctor in Chang Gung Memorial Hospital’s Department of Infectious Diseases. Taiwan. “With the camp, it’s your family, and they’re other people you can’t avoid contact with, so that’s fine.”
“And the shops are spaced, ” added Huang. “You can get away from strangers as much as possible.”
Approximately 1,100 of Taiwan’s 2,000 camps are fully or partially closed, adding to the construction where Yeh took his children. Most Taiwanese live in overcrowded apartments, which means there are no patios and it is to set up tents in their own living spaces.
To reach the Ponponwu “camp”, the family circle drove an hour south of his apartment in the Taiwan countryside. After parking and taking the elevator, they knocked out the door.
All 3 had their own tent, made of white canvas on wooden slats. Most of the 11 tents in total can accommodate one user each. A small padlock secures the canvas doors and a bed fills the floor, with an electrical outlet on a wooden back wall.
Double-glazed windows in the offices surrounding all the tents ensured quiet nights by avoiding the noise of the city street of 2.8 million people. Crib music on a dulcimer soundtrack permeated the “motifs” of hidden speakers. Chatting inside the prohibited tents after the lighting fixtures were turned off.
A starry black sky was painted on a wall, the only portable dome-shaped tent of the type that would use an outdoor caravan.
As if they were camping outside, Yeh, their son Yu Chung-chieh and their daughter Yu Shan-chen hung their clothes to ventilate them, the shirts were not washed. The youth said their prayers on the floor crossed in bed before turning off the lights and jumping inside their tents.
“The way the store seduces them and they don’t care if it’s genuine or not,” Yeh said. At home, “they complain about getting bored.”
The key to his taste: “I don’t see what they’re doing there.”
Over the past decade, the number of campers on and off doors has nearly doubled in Taiwan, Wang said.
The internal increase took a stand on the component because Taiwanese love Japanese outdoor clothing brands and glamping photographs in Yellowstone National Park, said Yuki Huang, marketing director of Taipei-based KKday. “People need to see it as a new kind of atmosphere,” he says.
“They would possibly feel like a tent, but it probably wouldn’t rain,” said Peter Lin, director of travel agency topology in Taiwan.
As COVID-19 is a reality, all camp operators check visitors for fever symptoms upon entering and have the opportunity to demand that campers wear face masks.
The covered camps at the roughest end of the staircase join a giant steel blade to the most sensitive of the poles as a roof for several tents. The outside air passes through these structures but the rain remains outdoors.
At Dongshih Village Chief’s House, 8 wooden huts are triangular tents and 40 plots, adding rents strong enough for storms. The 2-year-old campsite, with slides and children’s sandpit, has not noticed a decline in bookings this year despite an impediment in Taiwanese hotels due to the ban on foreign tourists in force since mid-March.
“They think we’re spacious to start with, and nearby there are no houses, so there’s plenty of open space,” said Chen Hsueh-yueh, Dongshih sales representative. Outdoor parking spaces separate cabanas and internal beds are separated by 16.4 feet, a convenience when visitors don’t know others.
The total number of other people in the camp, indoors and outdoors combined, was higher in the first 4 months of 2020 than at the same time last year, Chen said.
At the more sensible end of the indoor camp, the National Museum of Marine Biology and Aquarium, located in a coastal national park, allows others to throw sleeping bags for one night in a personal room under backlit aquariums. One night costs $80. About 50,000 to 60,000 people finish the evening year, an aquarium publicist said
Ten of Taiwan’s closed camps are as closed as Ponponwu, Wang said.
Located in the center of Kaohsiung, Ponponwu supplies the tent, mattress, Wi-Fi, room hanging device and bathrooms. Central air conditioning helps keep the entire terrain at 73 degrees. A price at night from $13.30 to $19.90. The profession in February and March, when Taiwanese began to worry about coronavirus, little replaced in the same months of 2019, co-owner Fang Xiao-Q said. It has since closed for renovations.
The camp is getting enough attention to have filed patents for its floor plan and tent design, Fang said. The concept is to offer an inexpensive and personal living room without copying the popular capsule hotels in Japan.
“People who love the outdoors may not come here, but those who love peace do, those who don’t want to be disturbed by others,” said Fang, who has never camped outdoors. “When you go camping outside, you want to prepare a giant bag and a small bag, as well as tactics to save yourself from wind, sun, rain and mosquitoes.”