Formosa, de eerste kolonie van Japan

A weary traveler sets off from Hong Kong, hopping aboard a modest Japanese steamship that threads its way through the bustling ports of Swatow and Amoy before finally slipping into the river of Tamsoeï. After a tense wait for the tide, the vessel glides to the wooden pier of the island’s new capital, Taïhokoe, where the narrator discovers a stark contrast between the lingering Chinese neighborhoods and the orderly Japanese districts that now dominate the city’s core.

Inside Taïhokoe the reader is guided through the governor‑general’s grand administration, the disciplined police force, and the neatly laid‑out railway that whisks travelers across the island in an hour. The author’s stay in a modest Japanese inn offers vivid details of daily life: tatami‑covered rooms, the careful covering of chair legs, and the ever‑present scent of tea. Through these observations the book paints an intimate portrait of Formosa at the dawn of Japan’s colonial rule, revealing the island’s shifting identities, its strategic importance, and the uneasy coexistence of its peoples.