Aha, Beitou, when spring comes, clouds of colorful hues appear over the mountains.

Aha, Beitou, when summer comes, the cicada cries a cool song.

Aha, Beitou, when autumn comes, the public bathhouse is filled with moonlight and insect sounds.

Aha, Beitou, when winter comes, golden flowers bloom.

鄉原古統 《 臺北名所繪畫十二景 北投溫泉》 （新攝：台灣藝術史研究學會，發佈於國家文化記憶庫）

Meeting Hirata Gengo at a Sulphur Spring Late at Night

On a winter night in 1895, a Japanese man with chronic illness could no longer resist hunger and collapsed on the damp ground, letting the north wind blow mercilessly over his exhausted limbs. Under the moonlight, the man's slim body undulated fiercely as he breathed rapidly. Recalling what he had vowed to do before he set out, he could only describe his state of mind at the moment as depleted.

"Could it be that I can't find the hot spring again?" thought the man.

After innumerable attempts, Hirata Gengo failed again this time.

As a native Japanese, Hirata knew from his childhood that hot springs were good for healing. The tough work of reclamation left him bruised and battered after coming to Taiwan. This, coupled with the hot and humid climate, unfortunately led to his contracting beriberi. Looking at himself in the mirror, he could only shake his head and sigh.

Until one time, Hirata heard that there was a place called "patauw" along the Danshui River north of Dadaocheng, where natural hot springs might be found. This news rekindled his hope.

However, Hirata's "journey to the hot spring" did not go as smoothly as he had expected. Besides the language barrier and the fact that there was no one to ask for directions, he mistakenly entered the present-day Guanyin Mountain area due to wrong information and was unable to find his way back home for a long time. When he finally managed to find out the location of the "hông-tsuí" (sulfurous water) from the Han people, the trip was delayed again due to the bad weather.

"This is the closest I've ever been to a hot spring, but is it going to be another failure?" he asked himself.

Suddenly, a warmth came from the bottom of his feet to his head, which made Hirata jump up instantly. He sought the source of the warmth with all the strength he had left. Just as he leaned closer to the ground, a familiar "rotten egg smell" hit him - the distinctive sulfur smell of hot springs. Ignoring his hunger, Hirata excitedly dunked himself into the creek, enjoying a triumphant moment that had been months in the making.

For the next few days, Hirata returned to the hot spring every day. His expression, sometimes serious and sometimes satisfied, puzzled the Han families nearby. Hirata's behaviors soon became a topic of talk after meal hours or in leisure time, and even a peculiar phenomenon that was widely discussed among people.

Readers may have the same question at this point: Why did Hirata, who was already exhausted from various ailments, still insist on finding a hot spring deep in the mountains?

Let's start from how Japanese people perceive hot springs.

The Long Nai Tang (Takinoyu) in Beitou before the bathhouse was built during the Japanese occupation. （Picture provided ：「國立中央圖書館臺灣分館」典藏、「中央研究院臺灣史研究所檔案館」數位物件典藏。發佈於開放博物館。）

The Possibility of Hot Springs Becoming an Industry
The deities are mysterious and unknowable, but the efficacy of hot springs was known in the age of mythology.

In 1927, the Japanese scholar Yoshikata Nishikawa, based on his long years of research and observation, explained the attitude of Japanese people towards hot springs in his book "Notes on Hot Springs".

For the Japanese people, who are located in the volcanic fault zone, hot springs are a natural part of their lives. The legendary stories of Kukai, a Kōbō Daishi, who discovered the hot springs in Izu, and Takeda Shingen, who used the hot springs to relieve the suffering of the wounded soldiers, have further embedded the hot springs in popular Japanese life and fostered a cultural consensus that combines religious beliefs and medical practices.

During the Meiji years, the overall westernization policy resulted in the rapid growth of domestic transportation construction, and many famous hot spring places became popular among "bathers". With the rise of railway inns and hot spring houses one after another, hot springs were gradually moving away from a purely cultural consensus and turning into an industry with great potential.

Therefore, it is easy to understand that when Hirata, who had been looking for a way to make a fortune in Taiwan, heard about the possible existence of a hot spring nearby, he was so excited and eager to have a try.

After numerous failed attempts, Hirata, in his fifties, finally succeeded in starting his own business in Taiwan. The signboard of "Ten Gu An" has since grown with the development of New Beitou.

The exterior of the Beitou public bathhouse during the Japanese rule period. （Picture provided ：「國立中央圖書館臺灣分館」典藏、「中央研究院臺灣史研究所檔案館」數位物件典藏。發佈於開放博物館。）

Initial Hot Spring Experience for Taiwanese
Hirata is not alone in wanting to become rich overnight with hot springs

Many studies in recent years show that before Hirata opened Ten Gu An, many official and private organizations had already settled on this hot spring property as a place to develop. However, for the Chinese Han immigrants in the north, the hot springs were initially a site that had to be kept away from.

For the traditional For the Han society, which mainly depends on agriculture, the boiling sulfur water was not only harmful to the rice crop, but also had the pungent smell of sulfur. The rumors of aboriginal custom of beheading people around the hot spring area also discouraged them from getting there. Because of these realities and cultural factors, the Han people had no desire to know about the boiling hot springs, let alone develop them into an industry.

That's why it's so unbelievable for people to see Hirata soaking in the pungent spring water and looking complacent instead.

However, in contrast to the Han people, foreign businessmen who traveled all over the world had already identified business opportunities here.

The lobby of the public bathhouse (Beitou, Taipei) with green sulphur hot spring during the Japanese occupation. （Picture provided ：「國立中央圖書館臺灣分館」典藏、「中央研究院臺灣史研究所檔案館」數位物件典藏。發佈於開放博物館。）

Beitou as a Town of Hot Springs
Legend has it that in 1893, Ohly, a German businessman in Dadaocheng, accidentally discovered rich hot spring resources in the Beitou area and decided to build a private hot spring club here, which also became a leisure space for many foreign officials and businessmen.

In the early days of the Japanese rule, the troops on the march accidentally discovered hot springs with recuperative properties along the mountains in Beitau, and a hot spring industry began to emerge on a large-scale basis in the New Beitau area. Soon after, hot spring inns such as Song Tao Yuan, Bao Yang Yuan, Chin Quan Kwan, Ten Gu An, Song Dao Wu , Ju Geng Wu, Yang Chi Ge, etc. were opened one after another. Beitou, known as "Hot Spring Land", has since become the first choice for the Japanese in Taiwan to relax and indulge in their nostalgia.

However, before visitors could enjoy the hot springs, they had to go through a number of challenges. First, they had to take the Tamsui line to Beitou Station. After leaving the station, they had to choose whether to "pay for a rickshaw" or "climb on their feet" to the hot springs. Such an awkward traffic network naturally led to complaints from travelers. In response, the Railway Department of the Taiwan Government-General's Bureau of Transportation, under the leadership of Transportation Division Chief Akiichi Murakami, launched a rail extension project to share the burden of hot spring tourists.

In the early spring of 1916, the New Beitou branch line and the New Beitou station were completed, taking on the task of transporting passengers. Because the railroad was specifically designed for bathers, it was later referred to as the "Bath line" in various documents. From then on, the concept of "New Beitou equal to a hot spring township and also equal to a leisure space" was formed. This cross-generation hype not only attracted more Japanese people to visit, but also changed the concept of hot springs for many Taiwanese.

Under this backdrop, coupled with the gradual spread of modern education, the Government-General of Taiwan purposely shaped the benefits of hot spring bathing so that the new generation of Taiwanese would gradually see it as a physical pleasure and a symbol of the pursuit of progress. This cross-generational cognitive shift opened the hearts and minds of Taiwanese people, and the initial experience in hot springs took off.

However, the few Taiwanese who could afford hot springs at that time came from gentlemen and wealthy people of middle and upper class. These people not only visited the hot spring inns run by the Japanese, but also often spent money in the ones run by the Taiwanese. For example, in 1921, the diary of Wang-cheng Huang, a gentleman in Hsinchu, said, "After bathing, I went back to Yi Shui Yuan, and then ordered [Note] Chinese cuisine," and in 1942, the diary of Wu Xinrong, a doctor in Tainan, said, "We went to New Beitou together, and went to Yi Shui Yuan to rest, comfortably bath in hot springs and chat about world affairs," all of which show that Taiwanese people at this time were no longer afraid of such "warm springs". And the status of Beitau as the "hot spring town" in Taiwan has gradually been rooted in the hearts of Taiwanese people.

The interior of the Beitou public bathhouse during the Japanese rule period. （Picture provided ：「國立中央圖書館臺灣分館」典藏、「中央研究院臺灣史研究所檔案館」數位物件典藏。發佈於開放博物館。）