I didn’t know much about Taiwan.
Geographically, I knew it to be a relatively small island off the southern coast of mainland China. Politically, I knew it’s roots were deeply laden with struggles against The People’s Republic of China. In many ways, I was an ignorant traveler when I touched down in Taipei. But it was purposeful — and two-fold.
For one, I would be meeting up with three friends for our second annual Asian motorcycle trip. The previous year we toured the southern part of Vietnam. Our itinerary was drawn out day-by-day, yet after being cut-off by an 18-wheeler and forcing a wrong turn 7 minutes into the journey, said itinerary was lost to the wind. Ultimately the trip was one for the ages, so we figured there to be no reason to waste time with a Taiwan itinerary that would more than likely be tossed aside.
Secondly, I had fallen into the unwanted habit of over-researching prior to traveling throughout the last 18 months. Days before departing, I’d find myself in a TripAdvisor/Hostelworld K-hole, reading reviews on where to go, what to eat and where to sleep, almost subconsciously creating both the preface and the first few chapters of the story before I’d ever left my house.
I always preach that the best adventures occur when all pretense is lost. Taiwan got me back on track.
Day 1
A 30-minute walk from the Taipei Main Station to the Meander Inn gave me a chance to quickly preview the Taiwanese capital, and it only took about a third of this time to realize that I’d arrived in what one of the premier food capitals in Asia, if not the world. Unlit in the daytime sun, the neon signs overhead hovered outside of interconnected office buildings and hotels and were more than sporadically broken up by old-world urban Asian architecture. I build this image not for the sake of juxtaposition, but rather to point out that there were gaps every two to five blocks between these edifices. Small alleyways beckoned and give way to…I had to find out.
Shortly after passing a barber shop and a few folks hawking lottery tickets, I was sitting on a plastic chair no more than 12-inches from the ground. In front of me, a cacophony of condiments — soy sauce, three types of vinegar, minced garlic and ginger. Before my food arrived, the familiar feeling of backpacking in Asia was back. And then arrived the beef noodle soup, each noodle rolled individually by hand and beef marinating in a broth of what I imagined had been cooked precisely the same way — and in the same pot — for at least two generations. Taiwan found the soft spot in my heart almost immediately.
I had two weeks in Taiwan. Did I blow my load early and have the best meal of the trip 10 minutes after getting of the train? Those concerns were put put to rest…no, knocked unconscious…that night after dinner at Din Tai Fung. For me, there is no better bite of food than a soup dumpling. Xiaolongbao. And word on the street was that no one did it better that Din Tai Fung. (DTF is actually a chain found throughout a handful of Asian countries as well as the west coast of the United States. Jaded ex-pats in China scoff at the commercialization of DTF. Let em’.) I was lucky enough to meet a new friend at the hostel who shared my passion, and together we ordered four steaming baskets of xiaolongbao (10 dumpings per) along with a handful of other noodle and bun-based dishes. We payed the bill, stood up, and almost non-verbally agreed to sit back down and order two more baskets.
Day 2
It’s difficult to be anywhere in Taiwan without having the sight of a lush green mountain in your peripheral. Even in the heart of Taipei, vast jungle covers peaks throughout almost the entire panorama. To the immediate north of the capital is Yangmingshan National Park. A 30-minute bus ride takes you from the city center to one of the two park’s visitor centers. From there, dozens of hiking trails await, many of which with views that stretch from city all the way to the Pacific Ocean to the east and the Taiwan Straight to the west. Along with my xiaolongbao bud (who’s name is Martin, but dumplings and alteration are two of my favorite things), we took the I5 bus from the Shilin Metro Station to the Yangmingshan bus station, then transferred to the 108 bus that went directly to the park headquarters. I provide these transportation details as a means to show how easy it is to get around the greater Taipei area, not only because of the concise maps all around the city but also because of the kindness of the Taiwanese. Twice on this three-layover journey to the park, local folks ushered us towards the right bus without so much as speaking more than five words of English. Somehow, they knew where we wanted to go.
We opted to to for the Mount Qixing hike and a trip to the Bayan Hot Springs. Though the day was spent hiking through clouds and fog, it was a great way introduction to the island’s landscape and vegetation. I’d soon come to learn that Taiwan has a climate that allows seemingly every fruit and vegetable known to man to grow. On any given day of riding, we’d be rolling past dozens of farms and gardens with any assortment of coconuts, mangoes, cabbage, tomatoes, rice, cabbage, cucumbers, coffee, barley, and even more cabbage.
Speaking of riding, that night arrived the other three members of our motorcycle gang, affectionately known as the Farty Animals. (When you put four 30 year old men — well, boys — in a room together with two bunk beds after nights of eating and drinking…) Brett, Dan and Chase are all from Denver, but Chase has been living in Shanghai for the last 10 years and is fluent in Mandarin.
We didn’t waste any time. They arrived around 9:00pm, and by 9:30pm we were at one of Taipei’s MANY night markets, the table full in front of us filled with local fish dishes and beers as we plotted our route and journey. We didn’t make too much headway on the planning, and things progressed rather quickly. Let’s just say that I found myself alone around seven hours later eating beef soup and arrived back at the hostel just as the other guys were walking in. Classic Farty Animals.
Day 3 (97km traveled)
Backing up a bit, the night prior we met Susie from the Netherlands who took a chance and joined us for our night on the town. In the morning, she pressed her luck even further — considering our haggard state — and accepted an invitation to join us on the motorcycle trip around the country.
Trust develops quick when backpacking. And we needed it right away.
We couldn’t have had the bikes for more than 15-minutes before we lost each other. The original group of four eventually reconnected, but Susie was no where to be found, even after lapping the streets from which we had come. Naturally, we hadn’t exchanged any contact information. We didn’t even know her last name. It was a pre-Internet debacle, and with no other choice we decided to continue on to our proposed destination of The Stay Inn in the city of Yilan and cross our fingers that Susie would be there.
Thus began our first adventure. We turned onto Highway 5, which connects Taipei to the aforementioned eastern coastal city of Yilan. We were cruising right along, wind in our faces and snapping out of the prior nights consequences, when a police officer, using her orange baton, began summoning us to the weigh station on the side of the road. Almost with aligned wavelengths, we all ignored the request and sped straight past the officer. Truly less than 2 seconds later, at the far end of the weigh station, we were greeted by another wave. Susie had already gotten pulled over. With that, we slowed to a halt and used the shoulder to scamper back.
As it turns out, only motorcycles of a certain size (as designated by a red license plate) are allowed on highways in Taiwan. Our bikes were only 250ccs, and thus we were unwelcomed on the island’s speedways. Their were three police offers in total, a young man, a younger woman and an older gentleman who seemed to be their superior. And all three couldn’t have been nicer. They were concerned only about our safety, and showed this by having our bikes towed to the prior exit and pointing us in the direction of an adjacent mountain road. And by towed, I mean is stuffing two bikes at a time into a paddy-wagon designed for transporting criminals.
The mountain road turned out to be one of the most beautiful rides on the island, and we arrived in Yilan just after moonrise.
I’d be remiss to not call out the Yilan Night Market. These markets litter cities and villages all through out Taiwan, but the Yilan Night Market is worth the trip alone from Taipei.
Day 4 (190 kilometers traveled, from sea level to over 10,000 feet)
It was a helluva ride from the coast to the highest paved point in Taiwan. Before venturing up, we had to make an important stop at Kavalan Distillery right outside Yilan. Kavalan is making a name for itself amongst whiskey aficionados around the world and with good reason. One bottle in particular, the Cast Strength Soloist, can only be purchased at the distillery. I figured I could find some extra space in my pack.
I couldn’t.
We continued onwards and upwards, each of us with our bags bungee strapped to the back of our bikes and through a combination of sun, mist and rain. The road followed a dry riverbed up through the mountains, and replacing flowing whitewater were lush crops of all shapes and sizes, each of which with it’s own hue of green. As we geared higher in altitude, the crops were replaced by thick green jungle, which in the end gave way to wind swept mountain peaks. The road topped out at 3,300 meters, or just under 11,000 feet, at Hehuanshan Mountain before switchbacking its way down into the tea-field valley of QingCing Farm, our home for the evening. A special shout out to Julie’s Garden Homestay for putting us up in a home with some of the best views in town.
Day 5 (95km traveled)
Downward we ventured, using old-fashioned maps (on our smart phones) to determine our mountainous route rather than following the main roads. Again traveling along a river, we passed through aboriginal communities that survived off of the rich soil and the crops they cultivated for what I can only imagine to be generations. These central parts of Taiwan were lined with endless black tubes that ran along roads, rivers and trails. On paper, it seemed dated, but the irrigation systems they’ve set up most certainly offer the utility for which they were designed.
This back road (83) led us to unexpectedly to a short hike, which began on a long suspension bridge and ended at Momonaer Waterfall. It was an awesome surprise and a nice late-morning cool down.
Remember how the whiskey bottle I bought wouldn’t fit in my bag? Well, apparently my spacial relations in packing fail only to my engineering skills, as bottle shimmied out of its strap as we continued down a mountain road towards Tainan. The case broke open and the bottle bumped down the road for a solid 50 meters before gyrating it’s way to a stop. Somehow, despite chunks of glass missing and its case looking like it just went 12-rounds, every drop remained. Kavalan makes world-class whiskey and some strong-ass bottles.
So…we rolled down through towns built on shiitake mushroom farming when hunger began to rapidly set in. Upon reaching the first traffic light of the afternoon, Chase set off towards a small village, taking a right turn at the crossroad where we were meant to go left, to see about possible dining options.
Wrong turns commonly run parallel to mishap. When backpacking — especially on motorcycle — they become perpendicular. As a reminder, Chase is fluent in mandarin, and he found a small coffee shop that would caffeinate us while we decided where to spend the night. Said coffee shop was actually a coffee farm and school that both grew its own beans and educated motivated, wanna-be baristas. As the patriarch of the school taught a class of 20 or so teenage boys and girls, the ladies of the coffee farm/school/house sat us down for what we thought would be a cup of uber-local coffee and maybe a small plate of noodles. Now, I’m not sure if what happened next was sheer motherly instinct in sensing hunger, but out came a seven-course feast fit for java nobility. Marinated bamboo shoots, cabbage three-ways, simmered pork belly, and a few still-unknown dishes led the way for the main course — Chicken Coffee Soup. Epitomizing farm-to-table, this headlining dish needs no description outside of its name. We’ll give it a 10/10 for creativity and 11/10 for local sourceability. The jury is still out on the taste rating.
We made it to Sun Moon Lake as the sun — and our caffeine buzzes — began to fade and decided to get a few rooms on eastern banks of Taiwan’s largest lake.
Hindsight breathes loudly in a traveler’s memory. It’s days like this when the adventure isn’t adrenaline-fueled but rather outrageously unexpected and steered simply by a wrong-turn and the kindness of others…it’s what makes travel an addiction.
Check out part two of the adventure by clicking here.
