A Cup of Chun Shui Tea, A Tale of Taipei—Encountering Chun Shui Tang on the Journey

Resting during a trip is not just about letting the body relax but also about allowing the soul to find its place again. Amid the hustle and bustle of my Taipei itinerary, there was a moment when I stepped into Chun Shui Tang, as if entering a serene and warm tea house frozen in time—a pause for dialogue with the city. That afternoon, I had just descended from the National Palace Museum. The sun pierced through the clouds after a brief summer rain. Wandering into Chun Shui Tang's Nanshi branch, I found a semi-open and tranquil space. The wooden decor blended Eastern classical elements with modern minimalism, while the gentle light spilled over books and tea sets on the tables, reminiscent of the blank spaces in an ink painting—subtle yet full of character. As the birthplace of Taiwan's bubble tea, Chun Shui Tang is more than just a place to buy a drink; it represents a lifestyle. Seated, I ordered their signature "Bubble Milk Tea" and a bowl of beef noodle soup. The drink was rich with tea aroma and creamy milk, smooth and delicate. The chewy, slightly sweet pearls evoked a sense of childlike joy and satisfaction. The beef noodle soup, with its hearty broth and tender meat, offered a comforting taste of home even while traveling. What captivated me most about Chun Shui Tang was not just the flavors but the "slowness" it cultivated amidst the city's rhythm. Outside the window lay Taipei's bustling streets, with hurried pedestrians and endless traffic. Inside, whispers mingled with the aroma of tea, while books and old photographs narrated the pulse of history. It was neither the solemnity of a traditional tea house nor the starkness of a chain coffee shop, but a "Taiwan-style interlude"—a balance between history and modernity, East and West. Sipping hot tea and flipping through the small magazine attached to the tea menu, I read about tea culture, Chun Shui Tang's entrepreneurial story, and the evolution of Taiwanese cuisine. At that moment, I realized that a "tea house" is not merely a place for drinking tea but a sanctuary for culture. When I left, night had fallen. Walking through the Nanshi shopping district under the glow of streetlights and amidst the bustling crowd, I still carried a sense of calm. That unfinished cup of tea was enough to add a touch of tranquility and memory to my Taipei journey.