Best time to visit Taipei

You'll climb the red-brick steps to Baoan Temple as drums echo from the courtyard where performers in embroidered robes enact ancient opera scenes. The humidity hasn't yet turned unbearable. Mornings at Elephant Mountain reward you with clear views of Taipei 101's silver spire before haze rolls in. Pack a compact umbrella for sudden afternoon cloudbursts that send scooter drivers scrambling under Zhongshan's art deco awnings.

You'll join the colorful tide surging down Ketagalan Boulevard as floats blast dance music and confetti cannons fire over Taipei's government quarter. The energy peaks when the march reaches the Presidential Office. The weather finally cooperates for temple-hopping: at Longshan Temple, the heat has broken enough to linger beneath the dragon-carved beams without wilting. Book your Modern Toilet Restaurant table nowPride weekend transforms the city into Asia's queer capital, and every venue braces for the surge.

You'll wander past midnight during Nuit Blanche as projection-mapped temples glow in Dadaocheng and dancers perform beneath Zhongshan's art deco arches. At the Golden Horse Awards, red carpets stretch outside the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall while Asia's film elite pose for cameras. Up in Banqiao, New Taipei Christmasland's LED tunnels already sparkle above the square. Locals queue for photos beneath the synchronized light shows as vendors sell roasted chestnuts from carts.

Rain hammers the glass roof at Songshan Cultural Park while models glide down Fashion Week runways inside the century-old brick halls. You'll need waterproof layers for the Maokong Gondola. Clouds swallow the tea plantations halfway up, and the outdoor viewing platforms turn slippery. At Raohe Night Market, vendors stretch tarps over sizzling pepper buns as puddles reflect neon signs from the arcade's edge.

Overcast skies press low over Beitou's sulfur steam vents as you navigate the slick wooden boardwalks. At Pingxi, you'll cradle a white paper lantern while strangers crowd the railway tracks, waiting for dusk. The glow from hundreds of rising lights briefly outshines the fog. Humidity turns every indoor space sticky, from the bookshop aisles at TiBE to the night market stalls where vendors wipe down metal counters between rain bursts.

You'll stake your position along Xinyi Road by 4 PM on December 31st as crowds swell toward Taipei 101's base. When midnight strikes, the tower erupts in cascading pyrotechnics that reflect off every glass building in the district. Earlier in the month, the Christmasland displays in Banqiao create tunnels of synchronized LED arches while families queue for carnival rides. Pack layers for the marathon's pre-dawn start. Runners navigate Zhongshan's historic lanes before sunrise breaks over the Presidential Office.

The city turns into a steam bath by 10 AM. You'll duck into 7-Eleven every few blocks for air conditioning and cold tea. At Spot Huashan, documentary films play to sparse audiences in darkened theaters while rain pounds the old distillery's metal roof. Venture to Fulong Beach for the sand sculptures, but expect humid coastal air and afternoon storms that send visitors sprinting for the train station's covered platform.

You'll dodge motorbikes and puddles along Yongkang Street as the smell of beef noodle broth drifts from steamed-up storefronts. The air clings to your skin despite the cooler temperatures, and vendors at Dihua Street stack pineapple cakes under plastic tarps to ward off the next shower. Book your xiaolongbao table three days ahead. Locals flood the city for convention season.

You'll arrive at dawn for Confucius Temple's birthday ritual, watching dancers in silk robes perform six-century-old movements while incense smoke drifts toward the carved wooden eaves. The heat still punishes afternoon wanderers. By 2 PM, Yongkang Street's mango shaved ice vendors see lines stretch around corners. At Daan Park's Jazz Festival, locals spread picnic blankets for evening concerts, finally freed from the day's suffocating warmth as saxophones echo through the banyan trees.

You'll watch dragon boats churn the Keelung River's brown water as crews drum beneath a blazing sky, but within minutes, clouds darken and spectators flee for covered pavilions. The heat radiates off Taipei Main Station's asphalt plaza. Locals carry parasols and ice towels, ducking into basement food courts between errands. At Dadaocheng's Xiahai Temple, incense smoke mingles with the humidity as the City God's procession snakes through alleys barely wide enough for the ornate palanquins.

The mercury climbs past comfort by 9 AM. You'll retreat to Zhongshan Hall's vintage theater for Film Festival screenings where cold air and experimental cinema provide dual refuge. Outside, the sun bleaches Zhongxiao Road's shop awnings white, and locals travel in short bursts between air-conditioned subway stops. If you brave Xiangshan at dawn, the cityscape shimmers through heat haze by the time you descend past the giant boulder viewing platform.

You'll stand on Keelung's waterfront as priests chant and release paper boats into the harbor during Ghost Month's peak ceremonies. The smell of burning joss paper mixes with sea salt. Back in Taipei, humidity clings like a second skin even after dark, and sudden downpours flood Raohe Night Market's gutters while vendors protect grilled squid under hastily-rigged tarps. The Dadaocheng fireworks reflect off the Tamsui River's surface, briefly cooling the night with spectacle.