Time moves so quickly that I had almost forgotten: the man who once lifted me onto his shoulders without effort — when did his back begin to stoop a little? Those large hands that held mine as I learned to walk — when did the lines on his palms grow so deep?
Father’s Day is coming round again. Every year at this time I worry about what to give. A big meal, a new phone, a massage chair? All fine things, but a voice inside always tells me that what my father really wants is probably none of them. What he wants is probably our time: time undisturbed by work, when we can sit down properly and talk like friends. And so an idea came to me. This year I want to give my father a particular gift —a slow journey through Tainan, just the two of us.
Why Tainan? Because time here seems to move especially slowly.
I imagine walking shoulder to shoulder with him through the old lanes of the city, sunlight passing through weathered window lattices onto red brick walls, the air carrying a faint sweetness and the smell of history. We would not rush an itinerary but simply wander, stepping into any small shop that caught our interest and resting in the shade of a banyan when tired.
We could rise early for a steaming bowl of beef soup and watch the morning light wake this old city; or in the afternoon, beside Anping Fort, talk about the brave deeds of his youth, just as he used to tell me bedtime stories when I was small.
Tainan, a city full of stories, is the best place to keep all the unspoken tenderness and gratitude between a father and a son.
And so an idea came to me. This year I want to give my father a particular gift: a slow journey through Tainan, just the two of us.
A perfect journey needs somewhere to stay that feels like home.
For this trip I spent a long time looking for accommodation. I did not want a cold, standardised business hotel. What I wanted was somewhere we could thoroughly relax after a tiring day, as comfortable as our own home; a space where, on a quiet evening, my father and I could brew a pot of tea and talk at length, knee to knee.
Just seeing the name 3 Door warmed me. It seems to stand for one door leading to warmth, one to memory, and one to the connection between hearts. Searching online again and clicking through the hotel’s photographs, that mellow timber palette, the warm yellow light, the rooms both pared back and full of texture — this was exactly the home I had in mind. I could almost picture the satisfied, reassured smile on my father’s face as he walked into the room.
3 Door Hotelsits in the centre of Tainan, not far from the railway station, and it is very convenient for Chihkan Tower, Guohua Street and Hai’an Road. For a father whose strength is not what it was, nothing could be more thoughtful. We would not have to spend much energy on getting around, and could keep more of it for each other.
I have it all planned.
The daytime belongs to the old city’s sunshine and its food. We will eat bowl pudding, try shrimp rolls, and feel the charm of the old houses on Shennong Street.
And the evening belongs to3 Door Hotel.
Back in this warm home, I will pour my father a glass of warm water and let him rest his feet on a comfortable sofa. We will watch television together and talk about where we went and what we ate, about the funny things from my childhood, and I will listen to him tell me about the youth I was never part of.
In this quiet space, time seems able to pause. No pressure from work, no worries of daily life — only the purest companionship of a son and a father.
I think this is the best Father’s Day gift there is. Not an accumulation of objects but wholehearted company; creating a warm memory that, in the years to come, will lift the corners of your mouth whenever you think of it.
This 8 August, do not settle for one more meal out. Bring your superhero and come and walk around Tainan together.
For your journey through the old city with your father, book a warm home called3 Door. Here, let love and time become the most precious gift of all.
