The Smell of Burning Joss Paper at Seven in the Morning
You notice it before you understand it. Walking out of your hotel in Taipei on a late-August morning, the air carries a particular sweetness — sandalwood incense mixing with something sharper, the smoke from burning spirit money drifting out of tin barrels on every sidewalk. Shop owners arrange oranges, rice wine, and packaged snacks on folding tables outside their storefronts. Nobody looks especially solemn about it. It’s Tuesday. This is just what August looks like in Taiwan.
Ghost Month — the seventh month of the lunar calendar — is when the gates of the underworld supposedly swing open and the dead walk among the living. In 2026, it runs from roughly August 23 to late September (though the exact end date depends on which tradition you follow — some say the 29th day, others the 30th; check a lunar calendar closer to the date). The Zhongyuan Festival, the spiritual peak of the month, falls on the fifteenth day, which works out to around September 6.
What Actually Happens (And What Doesn’t)
Foreign travel guides tend to oversell the spookiness. Ghost Month isn’t Halloween. Nobody dresses up. There are no haunted houses. What you get instead is a month-long series of rituals — some private, some communal — aimed at feeding and appeasing wandering spirits who don’t have living descendants to care for them.
The most visible daily ritual is the roadside offering table. Families and businesses set out food, burn paper money in metal drums, and light incense. The food is real — packaged cookies, canned drinks, whole chickens — and after the spirits have had their fill (spiritually speaking), the living eat it. There’s something practical about the whole arrangement.
Temples hold pudu (普渡) ceremonies throughout the month, but the biggest ones cluster around the fifteenth day. If you happen to walk past a temple during a pudu, you’ll see tables piled absurdly high with offerings — towers of canned goods, entire roast pigs, elaborate fruit arrangements. The scale is competitive. Neighborhoods try to outdo each other.
Keelung’s Festival: 170 Years of Not Fighting
The Keelung Ghost Festival (雞籠中元祭) is the one you’ve probably heard of, and for good reason — it’s been running since 1855 and was the first folk tradition in Taiwan to receive national intangible cultural heritage designation.
The backstory is darker than most tourist brochures mention. In the 1850s, immigrants from Zhangzhou and Quanzhou in Fujian province were killing each other over territory in what’s now Keelung. After a particularly bloody clash in 1853 left over a hundred dead, community leaders brokered a truce. They buried the remains together at the Old Dagu Temple (老大公廟) and agreed to channel their rivalry into something less lethal: competitive festival hosting.
Fifteen clan associations now take turns organizing the festival each year. The hosting clan pours serious money and effort into it — this isn’t a token rotation. The competition aspect is still very much alive, just expressed through lantern parades and offering displays instead of weapons.
The Water Lanterns at Wanghai Bay
The emotional climax of the whole festival is the water lantern release on the evening of the fourteenth day (September 5 in 2026, probably — confirm closer to the date). Here’s how it works: after an elaborate parade through Keelung’s streets starting around 7 PM, all fifteen clans’ lanterns converge at Wanghai Bay (望海巷) near Badouzi. Around 11 PM, the lanterns are set into the water to guide lost spirits.
I should be honest — I’ve seen photos and video, not the real thing. But everyone who’s been says the same thing: the parade is loud and chaotic in the best way, and then it all gets quiet at the waterfront. The lanterns floating out into the dark ocean is genuinely moving, regardless of what you believe about spirits.
The practical reality: it gets extremely crowded. The parade route through central Keelung has traffic controls starting from late afternoon. If you’re driving, don’t. Take the train to Keelung Station and walk. For the water lantern release at Wanghai Bay, you’ll want to get there well before 11 PM to have any hope of a decent viewing spot. Some years the crowd is manageable, some years it’s shoulder-to-shoulder — depends on whether it falls on a weekend and what the weather’s doing.
The Taboos Are Real (To Locals)
Ghost Month comes with a list of don’ts that most Taiwanese people take at least semi-seriously:
- Don’t swim — water ghosts supposedly drag people under as ‘replacements.’ Drowning statistics do tick up in summer, though that’s probably just because more people swim in summer. Still, public pools see noticeably fewer visitors.
- Don’t whistle at night — it attracts spirits. This one seems to apply specifically to outdoors.
- Don’t hang laundry outside overnight — ghosts might ‘wear’ your clothes. Practically speaking, it rains a lot in late August anyway.
- Don’t start major life events — moving house, getting married, launching a business, buying a car. Real estate agents reportedly see slower months.
You’re not expected to follow these as a tourist. But mentioning that you know about them — casually, not performatively — goes over well. And genuinely, don’t mock them. These aren’t quaint superstitions to most people; they’re just… how things are.
The Part Where I Talk About Hotels
Here’s the practical upside of Ghost Month for travelers: prices drop. Many Taiwanese families avoid travel during this period — not dramatically, but enough that hotel rates in tourist areas soften. You won’t find ghost-month-specific discounts advertised, but the rates on Booking.com for Keelung and Taipei tend to be noticeably lower than the weeks before and after.
Keelung itself doesn’t have a huge hotel selection. Most visitors stay in Taipei (about 40 minutes by train) and day-trip to the festival. If you want to be closer, there are a few business hotels near Keelung Station — nothing fancy, but convenient for the parade route.
For the cultural experience side, KKday usually lists guided tours that include the Keelung Ghost Festival, and they’re worth considering if you don’t speak Chinese — the festival has a lot of context that’s hard to pick up just by watching. KLOOK also runs similar cultural experience packages.
Keelung Beyond the Ghosts
If you’re making the trip to Keelung, the city deserves more than just the festival. The Miaokou Night Market (廟口夜市) right next to Dianji Temple is one of Taiwan’s best — the pork ribs soup (排骨湯) and tempura (天婦羅, the Keelung kind, which is basically a deep-fried fish paste thing) are the standards. The night market sits literally at the doorstep of the temple that serves as the festival’s spiritual headquarters.
The harbor area has been cleaned up considerably in recent years. There’s a decent maritime plaza, and the Zhengbin Fishing Port (正濱漁港) with its painted houses has become an Instagram thing — it’s fine, looks better in photos than in person, but worth a walk if you’re already there.
Weather and What to Bring
Late August in northern Taiwan: hot, humid, and prone to afternoon thunderstorms. Expect temperatures around 30-33°C with humidity that makes it feel worse. Bring an umbrella — not optional. The parade and water lantern release happen rain or shine, though typhoons can force schedule changes (this has happened before; check weather forecasts in the days leading up).
The festival events run late. The water lantern release goes past midnight. Bringing a light jacket for the ocean breeze at Wanghai Bay isn’t a bad idea, even in summer.
On the train back to Taipei afterward, the car will be full of people who smell like incense and look tired in the satisfied way people look after they’ve been part of something. That’s the whole thing about Ghost Month — it’s not a show put on for anyone. It’s just happening, and you walked into it.