Finally, Taipei's bus and metro systems disgorged us onto the deserted streets around the Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall, where we had arranged to meet R, our host.

We found him waiting for us, since the hour-and-a-half he'd estimated it would take us to reach the city centre turned into more than two hours in reality.

Things were taking on a hazy, crazy blur through our tiredness. We followed our leader through darkened streets until we reached a red metal doorway. Inside, and up a set of bare, concrete stairs, was the tiny apartment we would be staying in with some other backpackers.

Formalities sorted, we flopped on the couch and immediately decided to sample the local culture in its most potent forms: 'I'll go to the 7-11 - you turn on the TV.'

Both venues were served their purpose (mindless distraction), but the TV gets a bonus prize for being disturbing to boot.

I have no idea what this show was about, let alone what it might be called, but the situation was this:

One plump host and one bevy of scantily-clad women ...

Said women speak periodically, but only after taking giant babies' dummies (pacifiers) out of their mouths to talk ...

Then it's time for a fun round of 'Risque Miming of Sex Acts - With a Chinese Whispers Twist!' The compere whispers to the first woman what risque act she should mime (here, the instruction seemed to be 'wank me'), she then mimes it for the next woman, who will then mime it to the next and so on and so forth ... The final woman in line must perform the mime and also tell the compere what she thinks the original instruction was ...

On the next channel, a solemn Buddhist elder was sermonising gravely.

The channel selection was an utterly mesmeric and yet deeply strange introduction to this city called Taipei ...