ART OF THE CITY

As Taipei belatedly embarks on its reinvention, JON WALL gets comfy in Le Meridien Taipei, a cool new hotel whose mix of functionality, culture and whimsy serves as a perfect metaphor for Taiwan’s gritty yet engaging capital

IF THE METEORIC economic growth of the past two decades has left vast urban tracts of mainland China almost unrecognizable compared with 20 years ago, the same cannot be said of the parallel universe of Taipei, 160km across the sea. For although Taiwan underwent its own economic miracle after the late 1960s, first joining the ranks of the fast-developing “Asian tigers” and later advancing to the status of advanced economy, its capital has undergone surprisingly little transformation since the 1980s.

True, this hard-working city of more than 2.6 million inhabitants (6.8 million if you count the greater metropolitan area) is now ringed and dissected by a network of elevated expressways, and a five-line Metro system began operating in the mid-1990s, yet until very recently a cross-town drive in almost any direction would have revealed few major changes – aside, of course, from the towering presence of Taipei 101. For six years the world’s tallest building, the 509-metre-high structure symbolizes the aspirations of this over-achieving island, yet located as it is in Taipei’s southeast corner and close by the hills that almost ring the city, it seemed perhaps as if this brash new landmark were out on a limb.

Today, however, as a completely new downtown takes shape in the Xinyi district that surrounds it, Taipei 101 no longer appears so isolated. For within a grid of broad boulevards to the east of the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall lies some of Taiwan’s newest, smartest and most desirable real estate – and as Taipei’s centre of gravity begins to shift to this formerly neglected wetland fringe, that will doubtless leave many of the city’s “older” western districts ripe for re-development.

Alongside the high-profile occupiers to have set up camp in Xinyi – including the Taipei city government, a World Trade Center, a convention centre, the enormous Shin Kong Mitsukoshi department store that occupies four blocks, the seven-storey Eslite bookstore and a 17-screen multiplex – are the city’s two latest major hotels, whose recent openings marked the first new arrivals in town by international hospitality brands in a decade.

Housed in a cluster of grey stone boxes at the side of Songren Road and accessed via a discreet side-street courtyard, Le Méridien Taipei appears unusually subdued for a luxury hotel, yet given its principal orientation towards business visitors – the majority of which will presumably be male – that lack of ostentation is by no means inappropriate. Illuminated by yellow-orange lighting and lined with grey marble, the lobby and public areas are equally simple and restrained, with glass walls bringing the outside in and busy human traffic – especially to and from the Latest Recipe restaurant, the cosily crepuscular Latitude lounge and the ChocoArt cake shop – creating much of the interest and colour. These large and otherwise bare spaces also serve as a backdrop to a remarkable collection of modern-art pieces from Taiwan, the mainland, North Asia, North America and Europe, which are scattered so liberally around the property (and even in the guestrooms) that it sometimes feels like an enormous gallery.

The lobby is dominated by 3D honeycomb structures by Keisuke Toyoda, while during my stay in late January, a dedicated exhibition space beyond the ground-floor restaurants was showing the dystopian landscapes of Yang Yongliang and whimsical critical-design furniture pieces by Taiwan-born Alice Wang. Exit the elevator at your guest floor, and you’re confronted by copper squirls that, when lit from above, leave a shadowy message on the wall (a quote from Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s Le Petit Prince, to be precise).

It may all sound a little precious, but in the context of the stylish simplicity of Le Méridien’s interiors it works surprisingly well, cleverly injecting warmth and humour into spaces that would otherwise verge on the severe. And while on first sight the guest rooms appear masculine, sombre and even stark, dressed out as they are in greys and earth tones, you quickly come to appreciate the cocooning sense of comfort. As in the public areas, high windows introduce splashes of light and colour, from traffic on the street below and beckoning twinkles from the adjacent Mitsukoshi emporia.

The rooms are beautifully appointed, too, with wide beds wrapped in 350-count sheets and duvet covers, a capacious walk-in shower (there’s no bathtub in the regular rooms), a separate washing and dressing area, a 42-inch TV, and an electronic WC of bewildering complexity. They’re also supremely functional, with a long built-in work desk and wireless Internet that’s predictably rapid-fire (though unfortunately not free-of-charge unless you’re carrying the right Starwood privilege card).

While artworks line the way to meeting rooms, the My Humble House Chinese restaurant and even the sleekly minimalist swimming pool and gym, a surprising omission in a new-build five-star is a spa. According to the PR people, the hotel probably doesn’t need one, given the preponderance of male guests, but don’t be surprised if a few of its 160 guestrooms are sacrificed in the name of pampering over the next year or so.

That glaring absence apart, I fell for Le Méridien Taipei when I spotted a dish piled high with multicoloured gummy bears on Latest Recipe’s lunchtime buffet. But whatever your schtick, you’ll soon find yourself being subtly seduced by this cool yet endearingly idiosyncratic new bolthole in the heart of a city whose industriousness, culture, spirit and warmth have long made it a favourite among visitors from these shores.

www.starwoodhotels.com