A COUPLE of Saturdays ago, about 36 weeks after arriving in Taiwan, we gave in to our desires and took a trip to Tesco - Taipei branch.

Catherine and I had, up to that point, avoided Western 'luxuries', but as we approached the halfway stage of our stay in Asia, we buckled under the pressure of little twinges of homesickness.

We smiled nostalgically at Jaffa cakes and cast doughy eyes over shelves of own-brand baked beans.

"Lincolnshire sausages!", I shouted, walking towards our familiar blue-handled trolly.

"Orange cordial!", was the ecstatic reply that greeted me.

As we walked down the aisles grinning like idiots, I couldn't help but think that we probably weren't the first English people to have visited this store and held a box of Fruit 'n' Fibre to their chests as if it were a newborn baby.

Although our trip to Tesco was very welcome, we haven't really missed Western food too much, such is the variety on offer in Taipei.

Taiwan has experienced periods of both Japanese and Chinese rule and the influence of both countries is felt heavily here, especially in the food. However, Taipei is rapidly becoming a more multicultural city. Today, Taipei has a seemingly endless stream of world cuisines, from donner kebabs to Mongolian barbeques.

Food is everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. We are spoiled here. I enjoy cooking but it's very tempting to eat out when good food is so plentiful, and so cheap.

One of our favourite meals is Shabu Shabu, and we're certainly not alone. This Japanese import seems to have also captured the appetites of the Taiwanese, who pack the ever-increasing number of restaurants every evening. You sit in front of a bubbling pot of hot stock and are given as much meat, fish and vegetables as you want to throw into it. You make your own dipping sauce from an array of ingredients such as ginger, soy sauce, sweet sesame paste and chilli. A never-ending supply of iced tea and ice-cream make the £3 you pay even more worthwhile. As well as being cheaper, food here seems to be, on the whole, healthier than the food I would normally eat at home. No cream, no cheese, no butter - those are the reasons why my figure has become a little less rounded than it was in England.

However, where perhaps we use too much fat in England, the Taiwanese certainly use too much sugar. It seems everything is sweet, at least to some degree - even the bread. Indeed, many of the children I teach reveal heavily decayed teeth when they smile, despite being only seven or eight years old.

For really cheap food, the street vendors are the place to go to and although the vendors themselves sometimes look a little unsavoury, the food is always good. The very best places to find the very widest selection of food are one of the many night markets.

Taipei is famed for its night markets, which are scattered all over the city. In a country full of colour, I think these are perhaps the most colourful places to visit.

Sometimes you stumble across one, a handful of stalls jammed down a narrow side street, other times they are massive, and sprawl across a whole neighbourhood.

They are fascinating places, and we spend hours walking through them. However, taking a relaxed stroll through one isn't an option - you are pushed everywhere by the mass of busy shoppers all going in opposite directions. Coupled with the noise of hundreds of vendors shouting out their best offers, and thousands of buyers responding, it's a hectic experience.

Fruit and vegetable stalls in the markets sell all sorts of things I've never seen, but by far the most interesting places to look at are the meat and fish stalls, although sometimes you need a strong stomach.

The seafood stand slithers with movement as live shrimps blow little bubbles, various fish take their last breaths and crabs make vain attempts for freedom.

Elsewhere chickens will sit in cramped cages before being picked up and swiftly necked by the market trader, and then given to a customer.

Toads, turtles, snakes, pigs' trotters and an array of mysterious grey-pink tubes (of varying sizes) are just some of the things I am able to buy at the market. I am able to buy them, but as yet, unsurprisingly, I haven't. How do you begin to cook an eight-inch turtle?

At first, the way the meat and fish are sold seems very medieval and very crude. Another way of looking at it is that at least you know you are buying fresh food, which perhaps couldn't be said for all of the markets in England.

With a little over six months to go until I leave Taiwan, my mind starts to tick over some of the things I have grown to love about the country, and what I might miss. At the top of the list, above everything else, sits the wonderful variety of often tasty, sometimes stomach-churning but always fascinating food.