Taipei is not a city that poses. Its beauty hides in humid green hillsides, incense smoke and neon reflected on wet asphalt — which makes the payoff bigger when you find the right corner at the right hour. It is also, usefully, a city built at photographic scale. A twenty-minute ride on a single transit card separates a mountain ridge from a temple courtyard from a market lane, and six of the eight frames below cost nothing to stand in front of.
The ranking is ordered by what we would not leave Taipei without. Almost as important is the sequence you shoot them in, which is dictated less by geography than by light; that is handled further down.
Key facts
- Golden hours: sunset from the ridges, blue hour in markets and temples, early morning for facades
- Best months: October and November — mild, comparatively dry, past the typhoon peak
- Worst months: the plum rains of May and June; the typhoon peak from July into September
- Getting around: the MRT reaches every entry below except Jiufen, which is a bus
- Rain: a wet street is a feature here, not a failure
Before the first frame: when to come, and what it costs
October and November are the window most Taiwan travel writers point to, and the case is easy to follow. Daytime temperatures typically sit somewhere in the high teens to high twenties Celsius, the summer humidity has broken, and the typhoon season — which officially runs from May to the end of November — has usually tapered off by early November. December through February bring a persistent northern drizzle that is cold rather than dramatic. April to June is the plum rain: not showers, but a fortnight at a time of grey ceiling and flat light. July through September is the heat and the storms together, and a typhoon day closes trails and cancels ferries with very little notice.
Transport is the easy part. Buy an EasyCard from any MRT station machine — the card itself typically costs around NT$100 as a non-refundable deposit — and top it up as you go. Single MRT journeys usually run somewhere between about NT$20 and NT$65 depending on distance, and the same card pays for city buses, convenience stores and the YouBike share scheme. The monthly TPASS, at roughly NT$1,200 for thirty days of unlimited regional travel, only earns its keep if you are staying three weeks or more.
As for money: Elephant Mountain, Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall, Longshan Temple, Dihua Street, Ximending and Raohe are all free to walk into. The Taipei 101 observatory starts at around NT$600. The Grand Hotel's two underground passages run about NT$200 and NT$500. The bus to Jiufen is roughly NT$105 each way. A photographically full week here is among the cheapest you can have in East Asia.
1. Elephant Mountain's view of Taipei 101
The classic, and classic for a reason: this is the view most people have in their heads when they picture Taipei. The trailhead sits a short walk from Xiangshan MRT station at the eastern end of the red line, and the climb is almost entirely constructed stone staircase — steep, continuous, and mercifully short. Expect roughly twenty to thirty minutes to the main viewpoint, gaining about 180 metres. The payoff is the cluster of boulders known as the Six Giant Rocks, which hikers scramble onto for an unobstructed frame of Taipei 101 rising out of a bowl of city and jungle.
Arrive early. Sixty to ninety minutes before sunset is not excessive on a clear evening, because the rocks hold only a handful of people at a time and the queue is real. Then stay: the tower's lighting comes up during blue hour, the city switches on beneath it, and the trail itself is lit, so the descent in the dark is straightforward. Keep climbing past the first platform if the crowd is impossible — there are further lookouts along the ridge with a slightly different angle and a fraction of the company.
2. Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall plaza
A vast white gate, twin performance halls under orange glazed roofs, and the blue-tiled memorial itself across an expanse of flagstone: the geometry of Liberty Square is a gift at any focal length. Long lenses compress the gate against the hall; wide lenses take the whole symmetrical sweep. Early morning gives you empty stone and soft light, and the square is open air, so there is nothing to wait for.
One thing has changed and is worth knowing. The honour guard no longer performs beside Chiang's statue inside the hall — in July 2024 the Ministry of Culture relocated the ceremony outdoors onto Democracy Boulevard, explicitly to end what it described as the worship of authoritarianism. The changing of the guard now runs roughly hourly through the middle of the day, typically from around nine in the morning until about five in the afternoon, with the flag raised and lowered at either end. It is suspended in rain. If the ceremony is the shot you want, check the sky and come on a dry morning.