Harbin feels like a northern provincial capital where the cold shapes the whole rhythm of life. People live with a strong local identity, a visible Russian-influenced city center, and the yearly ice-and-snow festival that puts the city on the map, but most days are more about practical routines than tourism. Winters are serious and can be a constant topic of conversation, while the warmer months likely feel like the city finally opens up again after a long freeze. For someone living there, the appeal is probably the distinctive character, winter spectacle, and regional food, balanced against the reality of a harsh climate and a city that gets less international attention than China’s bigger hubs.

Taipei–Keelung feels dense, convenient, and easy to live in if you value transit, food, and walkable neighborhood routines over space and sunshine. Taipei is the more polished, fast-moving core, while Keelung adds a wetter, harbor-town edge and a grittier, more local feel. Daily life is organized around MRT stations, scooters, night markets, convenience stores, and small shops that make errands simple even without a car. The tradeoffs are real: humid weather, crowded streets, occasional language friction, and less living space than many people expect for the price.

Harbin’s food scene is likely centered on hearty northeast Chinese cooking: filling portions, wheat-based staples, dumplings, stews, and the kind of dishes people eat to survive cold weather. The city’s Russian influence also shows up in some bread, pastry, and dairy traditions, which makes the local food identity feel a little different from inland Chinese cities. In everyday life, the best-known appeal is probably not fine dining but warm, substantial comfort food that fits the climate.

There is not enough direct Reddit material here to describe a dense nightlife scene with confidence. Based on Harbin’s size and climate, nightlife probably skews toward bars, KTV, restaurants, and seasonal socializing rather than a huge late-night club culture. Winter tourism may add some special-event energy, but ordinary weeknights are likely calmer than in China’s biggest coastal cities.

Taipei is one of the easiest places in Asia to eat well every day without planning much: breakfast stands, bento shops, dumpling places, noodle counters, and convenience stores cover the basics, while night markets and small specialist stalls handle snacks and indulgences. The food culture is practical rather than precious, with a big emphasis on value, speed, and repeatable neighborhood favorites. Keelung adds a port-city seafood edge, and the wider metro has enough variety that people can build an ordinary week of meals around local favorites instead of destination restaurants. For many residents, the best part is not one famous dish but how cheap and accessible decent food is almost everywhere.

Nightlife in Taipei is more varied than wild: there are bars, live houses, karaoke, and club districts, but the city is not defined by a single all-night party culture. A lot of social life happens through late dinners, drinks after work, convenience-store stops, and night-market wandering rather than formal nightlife plans. Some neighborhoods stay active late, but many residents treat the city as one where evenings are pleasant and usable, not necessarily loud or frenetic. Keelung is quieter and more local after dark, with fewer big-night-out options than central Taipei.

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On paper, Harbin’s weather is often summarized by its famous cold, but lived experience is more extreme and more defining than any stat sheet suggests. Locals are likely to describe winter not as a novelty but as a long operational reality: dry air, heavy coats, frozen sidewalks, and a city that has to work around the cold. That said, the climate is also part of the city’s pride, because the same conditions that make winter hard are what create the ice-and-snow culture the city is known for. Summer probably feels especially welcome because it breaks up the severity of the season and gives residents a real sense of relief.

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On paper, the climate looks mild enough, but locals tend to describe it through humidity, rain, and the general feeling of dampness rather than through temperature alone. Taipei can be hot and muggy for long stretches, while Keelung is famous for frequent rain and a gray harbor-weather mood that shapes how people dress and plan their day. People often accept the weather as part of the city’s identity, but they also complain about clothes never fully drying, sticky commutes, and sudden showers. The sentiment is less "terrible weather" than "always prepared for moisture."