The Origins of Our Rooms

Bali Room

September 8, 2009.

After getting through a demanding traditional summer high season, Chin-Nan and Mei-Feng finally set off for Bali, to give themselves a break.

Walking into Ranadi, a sense of calm hit us immediately.

Seven days, and every moment carried that fully loose, unhurried feeling.

When we got back, the "Bali Room" began to take shape — a canopy bed, four posts draped in white, natural wood and rattan furniture. Not a replica of Bali, but an attempt to keep a little of that "looseness" here in Hualien.

The canopy bed, four posts holding up a sweep of white curtain, like a sanctuary for quiet contemplation.

We used natural wood, plants, every material that makes you want to reach out and touch it, to furnish this room.

Nearly twenty years on, that curtained bed is still there, and so are the mountains. Take one of our free bicycles, loop around the mountain-side route, come back, and let yourself unwind in the room's comfortable large bathtub.

You'll notice — the way you look at the mountains has changed, somehow.

Japan Room

We've been to Kyoto twice — November 2011, and February 2013. We loved it so much we went back a few more times after that.

Cypress wood, a master craftsman's hands, a low Japanese-style table, a room filled with a soft wood fragrance — all of that became the "Japan Room."
Later, our friend Huang — a triathlon enthusiast, violinist, and lifelong calligrapher — added an extra layer of cultural character to the room.

Errantry Room

There was once another room, the "Greek Room."

Today's "Errantry Room" used to be the Greek Room.

But honestly, we never actually made it to Greece.

Back then, we just loved the romance of everyday Mediterranean life — blue and white, classic yet relaxed — and simply brought that feeling into a room.

Later, as our room lineup changed, the Greek Room became the Errantry Room, but that idea — "the romance of everyday Southern Europe" — has stayed in the copy ever since.

Aboriginal Room

2007, Meilun Athletic Field, the joint Harvest Festival.

Two days, six round trips, chasing the light for nearly eight hours. For the first time up close, I saw the smiles, the dance steps, the sheer joy of our Indigenous friends.

Between the mountains of eastern Taiwan and the Pacific lies the homeland the Indigenous community has watched over for generations.

That depth of the land later came to quietly live in every detail of this room.

Not every room comes from a trip abroad. This one comes from a decision to stay, and to truly get to know this land.

Fantasy Room

A painting by artist Chen Mei-Yen, "Longing for Peach Blossom Spring."

A room full of pink, a wash of ocean blue.

Not a manufactured whimsy — a single painting, bringing back the innocence of childhood.

Sometimes a room doesn't need many stories. One painting is enough.

Five rooms, five different origins.

Places we'd been became the shape of a room; places we hadn't, too.

We'd love for you to come stay a night, and see for yourself.