Kinmen County, Taiwan. A constellation of twelve islands, including Greater Kinmen and Lesser Kinmen, floats in the Taiwan Strait. While roughly 125 miles separate them from Taiwan's main island, the Chinese mainland city of Xiamen is startlingly close—less than six miles away. This is the "other Taiwan," a Republic of China outpost positioned like a dagger aimed at the throat of the mainland.
My journey to Greater Kinmen's Kinmen Airport (Shangyi Airport) began at Taichung Airport aboard UNI Air. Taichung's domestic terminal, despite handling numerous flights, felt surprisingly compact with just one main waiting area and two bus gates. Airline staff cycled through boarding procedures for the day's departures with practiced efficiency, a routine mirrored by the calm passengers. It felt more like a busy bus station than an airport, a glimpse into how commonplace air travel is within Taiwan.
For years, Taiwan's airports were considered military facilities where photography was strictly forbidden. Here, however, the terminal’s glass walls offered unobstructed views of parked aircraft and the apron, and snapping photos drew no attention. In fact, a security guard, coffee cup in hand, approached with a smile. "Great weather, perfect for pictures, eh?" he remarked. The relaxed atmosphere was palpable.
UNI Air's ATR 72-600, a 70-seater, impressed with its cleanliness, inside and out—a standard reminiscent of Japanese airlines. Even on this early flight, nearly every seat was taken, mostly by travelers from Taiwan and mainland China, I presumed. The 55-minute journey felt much like a domestic flight back home. A swift, business-like soft drink service made its rounds, and just like that, we were descending into Kinmen Airport.
Kinmen Airport hugs the coastline. Smaller aircraft from domestic carriers like FAT (Far Eastern Air Transport) and Mandarin Airlines dotted the apron. The Taiwan Strait stretched out calmly behind them. With no jet bridges, we disembarked onto the tarmac and walked into the single-story terminal. Despite its modest size, the building felt spacious with its glass façade. A convenience store, car rental counters, and several souvenir shops hinted at Kinmen's status as a tourist destination. Yet, prominent features like the dedicated "Mini Three Links" counter (more on that later) and a surprisingly large office for military personnel served as reminders of the islands' strategic importance. Soon, I noticed camouflage-clad soldiers mingling casually with tourists and students throughout the terminal.
Kinmen's geography has always placed it on the critical path between mainland China and Taiwan, making it a frontline in their long-standing standoff. In the 17th century, during the tumultuous transition from the Ming to the Qing dynasty, the Ming loyalist Zheng Chenggong (often known in the West as Koxinga) used these islands as a stepping stone to establish a political and military base in Taiwan. Later, during the mid-20th century conflicts including the Chinese Civil War (the original text cites 1937-1945), the islands became a battleground. Following the founding of the People's Republic of China, the 1958 Kinmen Artillery Battle erupted as Communist forces attempted to seize the islands. An estimated 40,000 shells rained down in the first two hours alone, totaling nearly 57,000 by the battle's end—an onslaught so fierce it reportedly altered the island's topography. The ubiquitous Kinmen knives, forged from the shrapnel of these very shells, became a unique local specialty, a testament to the sheer intensity of the conflict.
The winds of change began blowing across Kinmen with the lifting of martial law in 1992 (five years after Taiwan proper) and the implementation of the "Mini Three Links" policy in 2001. This policy opened direct "three links"—trade, transportation, and postal services—between Kinmen (and Matsu) and designated ports in mainland China, previously forbidden. Initially restricted to residents of Kinmen/Matsu and specific mainland areas, the policy has since expanded, benefiting nearly everyone. An island once defined by its role as a heavily fortified military outpost on the edge of conflict was suddenly transformed into a major hub for the flow of people, goods, and information. Indeed, looking out the window during our final approach, I’d spotted numerous remnants of coastal gun emplacements and bunkers – active military defenses aimed at the "enemy" just six miles away only a decade or so prior.
Stepping out of the terminal, I was greeted by the gentle, subtropical air. Across the parking lot, atop a hill, stood two island icons: a tall, camouflage-painted water tower and a giant Wind Lion God statue. Greater Kinmen Island is roughly the size of Martha's Vineyard or slightly smaller than Molokai. The airport sits centrally. Five kilometers (about 3 miles) west lies Jincheng, the island's main town, and beyond that, Shuitou Pier, the ferry terminal for Lesser Kinmen and Xiamen. The temperature hovered around 68°F (20°C), feeling like early spring. Believing the best way to know a place is to walk it, I decided to forgo the 20-minute, NT$12 (about 40 cents) bus ride and cover the three miles to Jincheng on foot.
The area around the airport, like the terminal itself, was a hive of construction activity—upgrades and expansions underway. Over a decade since the Mini Three Links began, Kinmen is experiencing a surge in tourism, alongside a growing number of people using it as a transit point between Taiwan and the mainland. Infrastructure was clearly racing to keep up. I recalled the airport information desk attendant mentioning the dramatic increase in visitors, especially from the mainland. A common itinerary, she said, involves mainland tourists arriving by ferry from Xiamen, touring Kinmen, and then flying from Kinmen Airport to Taiwan proper. They come seeking the traditional Chinese culture preserved here, often lost in the mainland's rapidly modernizing coastal cities, pairing it with a taste of modern Taiwan. Conversely, tours bringing Taiwanese visitors through Kinmen en route to the mainland are also becoming standard, drawn partly by the simpler cross-strait procedures compared to flying from Taipei or Taichung. It dawned on me that the serene-looking passengers I shared the flight with from Taichung were likely travelers from both sides, enjoying the simple act of sightseeing—a freedom denied not long ago.
While tour buses zipped along the two-lane highway leading from the airport, stepping onto a side road revealed a different Kinmen: quiet country lanes winding through low forests dotted with small villages. Map in hand, I found myself at the entrance to Zhongshan Memorial Forest, a nature park. Unexpectedly, arrayed around the visitor center was an impressive display of decommissioned Taiwanese military hardware—tanks, fighter jets, anti-aircraft guns. The juxtaposition of nature park and heavy artillery was striking, yet the sheer volume of equipment was captivating. Seeing Japanese-made anti-aircraft guns served as a reminder of East Asia's complex history. Continuing my walk, military artifacts became recurring sights: a fence made from repurposed bazooka barrels in someone's yard, a massive soldier statue at an intersection, storefronts painted in camouflage patterns. It became increasingly clear: this island was a living "military theme park," its past woven into the very fabric of daily life.
You can't go far in Kinmen without encountering a "Wind Lion God" (Feng Shi Ye). Believed to tame the island's strong sea winds and ward off evil spirits, these guardian figures stand sentinel at village entrances, in front of homes, and outside shops. Each possesses a unique character, exuding a distinct presence. While bearing some resemblance to Okinawa's Shisa lions, Kinmen's guardians are often upright and display incredible variety in color, clothing, and expression. Spotting numerous Wind Lions along my walk from the airport, I started to feel as if these ancient protectors were watching over my journey, becoming one with the island's atmosphere.
Jincheng, a town of a few thousand residents, serves as Kinmen County's administrative and economic heart. Large commercial centers are scarce; instead, traditional shopping streets lined with small, family-run businesses offer a charming glimpse into local life. The town bustled with a mix of locals and tourists. From the central bus terminal, routes branch out across the island—an affordable way to explore, with fares costing mere pennies.
Above this bus terminal lies the Jincheng Civil Defense Tunnel Exhibition Hall. This museum showcases the extensive network of underground tunnels built during the era of military confrontation with the mainland. Unsurprisingly, the entrance and interior are adorned with camouflage motifs. Stretching for several kilometers beneath Jincheng, the tunnels connected key facilities, including schools, serving as shelters for civilians during bombardments. As I studied the photos and panels detailing this history, a staff member invited me to join a free tunnel tour. Curious to experience it firsthand, I joined a group of Taiwanese and mainland tourists. The tunnel was narrow—just over three feet wide and about 5'9" high. Many sections showed signs of recent repair, though whether for structural integrity or touristic presentation wasn't clear. Numerous side chambers, likely for storing sandbags and food supplies, lined the passage. The air was damp, the atmosphere dimly lit and distinctly unsettling. Imagining thousands of civilians huddled here, seeking refuge from tens of thousands of artillery shells, felt disturbingly real. Even without claustrophobia, it was an oppressive space.
Emerging back into the daylight felt like surfacing for air. A group of mainland tourists on the tour laughed, remarking on the tunnel's robust construction. "Kinmen was the island the Communist army couldn't take," one said. "Now I see why!"
Shuitou Pier, the ferry terminal, is a busy hub connecting Greater Kinmen with Xiamen and Lesser Kinmen. This is the true frontline of the Mini Three Links, a connection that didn't exist just over a decade ago. Standing here, knowing that the formidable wall that once separated these shores has fallen, allowing passage to mainland China in under an hour, was a powerful reminder of how profoundly politics and social circumstances shape the simple act of travel. The pier teemed with activity: tourists mingled with merchants hauling large cardboard boxes presumably filled with goods, transport workers, and camouflaged soldiers heading to military facilities on Lesser Kinmen.
For my return journey, I flew FAT (Far Eastern Air Transport) from Kinmen to Taipei's Songshan Airport. Though known more for international routes, FAT operated the Kinmen route as a major domestic service at the time. The check-in process and the one-hour flight were, like the inbound journey, stable and unremarkable, much like a typical domestic flight. Generally, Taiwan's domestic airlines are reliable and easy for foreign travelers to navigate, including online booking. As I walked down the aisle with my camera slung over my shoulder (not even taking pictures), an older flight attendant informed me, "Photography is prohibited on Taiwanese airlines." It seemed like an overly broad rule, but perhaps a holdover from the days when airports were treated as sensitive military sites. Wondering if it was specific to domestic flights or this particular route, I later asked a younger crew member, who replied, "That's not true. You can take photos." While the exact regulations remained unclear, it seemed evident that alongside the opening of trade, transport, and communication through the Mini Three Links, the handling of media and information was also undergoing significant change.
Kinmen, history tells us, remained largely untouched by direct Japanese influence during Japan's colonial rule over Taiwan. Even today, Japanese tourists are relatively few. Yet, finding Japanese alongside English on hotel signage felt characteristically Taiwanese. While Kinmen might not boast extensive conventional tourist attractions, its palpable sense of safety, the pro-Japanese sentiment often felt in Taiwan, and the delicious Taiwanese cuisine (generally agreeable to Japanese palates, and likely many others) make it a worthwhile destination. It offers a unique opportunity to experience the complex relationship between China and Taiwan firsthand and contemplate East Asia's near future. Adding Kinmen as a stopover when traveling between Taiwan and mainland China is certainly an idea worth considering.
Before departing Kinmen Airport, I stopped by a shop selling the island's famous high-quality knives—the ones originating from the artillery shells fired from the mainland decades ago. Gazing at the polished blades, forged from weapons intended for their destruction, I couldn't shake the feeling that the various military relics and sites I'd encountered across the island weren't just historical remnants or tourist props. They still felt like active military elements, present in real-time. While I, as a traveler, experienced the island partly as a "military theme park," the reality of it being an active "military front" lingered. I recalled a conversation with a woman in her thirties in Jincheng. "The active exchange with the mainland, something unthinkable in my childhood, is good for the island," she'd said. "But this change is the result of policy shifts. If policies change again in the future, so will the situation." Her words carried a stark realism, amplified by the complete absence of a smile on her face as she spoke.