Visitors to this vibrant democracy - known for its semiconductors and tech gadgetry - can be mesmerized by Taipei's swarming motorbikes, natural scenery along coastal beaches and mountains full of hiking trails.

There is also Taipei 101, one of the world's tallest buildings, which offers high-end shopping and dizzying high-level views. And the National Palace Museum, which displays some of the most important Chinese artifacts found anywhere.

But there are also Taiwan's night markets, among the best-kept secrets in the country.

As the sun goes down over Taiwan, the streets of this densely populated island come alive as thousands of people descend on streets and alleyways for some of the best and cheapest thrills one can find in Asia. The night markets serve up items ranging from tasty treats to inexpensive belts and sandals.

Sure, there are similar street scenes across the continent, from Cambodia to China. In Taiwan, however, night markets are a cherished cultural phenomenon that embraces traditions while remaining contemporary with quick-stepping, fashionably dressed young people who flood them.

Plunging into one of these body-bumping bazaars is a senses-awakening experience - wafting smells of good food, neon lights that dazzle like disco strobes, the singsong sales pitches of hawkers with bullhorns competing with throbbing techno music. This cacophony of street-side capitalism can last well past midnight.

Some night markets have foot massage parlors; others, snake restaurants.

In Taipei, about 20 night markets occur every day in addition to "floating" night markets, open occasionally or on fixed evenings, such as Saturdays, explained Lula Han, an expert on Taiwanese culture. There are as many as 100 major night markets across the island, she added.

"Every town, every city has two or three night markets," she said.

They are more than a place to pick up a pair of cheap sunglasses or grab a watermelon drink. For Taiwanese, they are equivalent to the corner pub where they meet friends and grab bites of handmade delicacies from curbside cooks.

Indeed, what really draws the jostling hordes is the xiaochi, or "small eats." In Taiwan, eating literally is a religious experience. That's because night markets initially sprang up around the

The entrance Kee Long Miao Kou night market, in Taipei, Taiwan on Monday, April 16, 2012. (LiPo Ching/Staff) (LiPo Ching)

many Buddhist temples in Taiwan, Han said. The Keelung market developed around Dianji Temple, which is more than a century old, to meet the eating needs of the faithful.

"We always say, when you worship God in the temple, you worship your body, your temple," Han said as we eagerly made our way to one of the oldest night markets in northern Taiwan, in the harbor city of Keelung, on a misty spring evening. "After you give food to the god in the temple, you give food to yourself. So the food stalls originated with the temples."

These days, just as many Taiwanese visit the alleyways lined with food stalls as they do the temple to burn incense in the name of good fortune.

Even for non-Buddhists, the temples can offer

relief: They frequently are the easiest place to find a bathroom in a night market.

The Keelung night market, near the Keelung train station, is one of the more traditional street markets in Taiwan. It has a neighborly feel to it - couples with young children stroll past the food stalls, students in their school uniforms cluster around an arcade. Its proximity to the harbor is reflected in the plethora of fresh seafood dishes. There is plenty of sushi and other Japanese-influenced food, harking back to the early 20th century, when Taiwan was ruled by Japan.

"Every time I come here, I think that my stomach is too small," Han said as we scanned scores of stalls selling everything from barbecued seafood to shaved-ice peanut desserts.

One can feast all night for as little as $4 to $10. It's not unusual to see a wealthy business executive in a suit and a customer of much less means sitting side by side on a wooden bench or on squat plastic stools to tuck into a bowl of rice noodles, purchased for a pittance.

What makes the food so appetizing is that the lightly pan-fried cabbage buns or oyster omelets smothered in soy and chili sauces have been made and sold in night markets by the same families for generations, explained Han, who once debated getting an apartment in Keelung simply so she could be in walking distance of its fabled night market.

In Taipei, one doesn't have to go out at night to enjoy night-market culture. Some day markets stay open into the evening. One of the most famous is the Dihua Street Market, a historic narrow brick lane surrounded by a mix of building architecture, from China's Fujian Province to Baroque and contemporary, located in the western part of this city of 2.6 million residents. It's a great place to buy Chinese medicine, bolts of cloth and lots of edible goodies.

A friend and I perused the dried-food stores lining the street late one afternoon. Merchants sold dried blueberries, mullet, green-tea pumpkin seeds and more. During the Lunar New Year, the area draws massive crowds who buy special holiday treats such as chewy candies and smoked duck.

As often is the case, whenever there is an abundance of good food around, a temple is not far away. In this case, the Hsiahai Cheng Huang Temple is just around the corner. The relatively small temple attracts many young people seeking advice and help in finding love.

The dried-food snacks served to awaken our appetite for another night market. This time we made our way to Shilin Night Market, the city's most famous, located near the Cicheng Temple, a subway station and a number of schools. It's something of an all-season night market: It has food stalls in alleyways as well as in an enclosed area, making it waterproof when it rains.

As the sky was darkening, pushcart vendors made their way to the area.

It doesn't take a food reviewer to find the best eats here: Just look for the long