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There are at least four reasons for Taiwan's bicycling renaissance. Firstly, now that two-day weekends are the norm, Taiwanese have more free time than ever before. Secondly, as in other parts of the world where eating well and being sedentary is the default lifestyle, many citizens are concerned about their waistlines.
The third reason is that good, affordable bicycles for all demographics are available. Taiwan has long been a major manufacturer of bicycles. In recent years, as labour and other costs have risen, local bike makers like Giant and Merida have moved up market. Their efforts to produce high-quality bicycles and bike accessories have met with great success. In 2014, Taiwan exported almost US$2.8 billion worth of complete bikes and bicycle components.
Finally, the government has done its bit. The authorities pro-bicycle initiatives have come in for some criticism, but at least taking bikes on trains is now easier. In both Taipei and Kaohsiung, bike enthusiasts can take their 'iron horses' (鐵馬, which is how many Taiwanese refer to their bicycles) on certain MRT trains, opening up those metropolises and their hinterlands for exploration. Assisting cyclists with tea and drinking water, as well as directions, has been added to the police’s duties.
International interest in Taiwan as a cycling destination has been building, thanks to magazine articles, TV reports, and at least one movie. The 2014 romance Nanpu (Riding the Breeze has inspired some moviegoers to bike around Tamsui, Jiufen, and other places featured in this Taiwanese-Japanese co-production.
Anyone touring Taiwan during the summer is likely to run into clusters of cyclists going all the way around the island. The total distance depends on the precise route, but is often over 1,200km. Huandao (環島, 'round the island') bike journeys have become both a rite of passage and an expression of Taiwanese identity. While it's possible to camp in many places, some riders prefer to travel light, carrying nothing other than a change of clothing and money to buy accommodation and food.
Bike-rental businesses are boon for both foreign tourists and Taiwanese. Giant Bicycles’ rental operation can supply bikes and other items suitable even for tall Westerners; these can be collected at one location and returned at another - perfect for those on short visits to Taiwan who wish to bike from, say, Hualien to Taitung.
Both cities face the Pacific Ocean in Taiwan’s unspoiled east, and nowhere are the often-quoted words of Giant’s founder, King Liu (劉金標) - 'Driving is too fast. Walking is too slow. Riding is the best way to enjoy the most beautiful scenes of life' - more apt. Liu, who was born in 1934, still cycles every day.
It's just about possible for a fit, dedicated cyclist to see both coastal and high-altitude marvels in a single day. The distance from Dapeng Bay on the southwest coast to Wutai, a stunningly scenic township deep in the mountains, is just 65km, but involves ascending to 1,000m above sea level. Even steeper climbs exist: Taiwan's toughest bike challenge is undoubtedly the 'King of the Mountains' route, from the shores of the Pacific to an altitude of 3,275m within Taroko National Park (where the photo above was taken; its from Wikimedia Commons). This webpage has a detailed description of the ups and downs of the 105km-long KOM route; it's a regular highway and thus open to cyclists every day of the year, unless there's a blockage caused by a landslide.
Experienced bikers say that, before starting any long downhill sections, it's a good idea to lower saddle, to reduce the risk of going over the handlebars in the event of a sudden stop. And it goes without saying that cyclists should always wear helmets - Taiwan's roads, unfortunately, aren't as safe as the Netherlands'. In the countryside, aggressive dogs are sometimes a problem.
If this talk of high mountains and long distances is off putting, be reassured that one needn't be an Olympic-level athlete to enjoy cycling in Taiwan. There are plenty of family-friendly bicycle trails suitable for those who haven't been on a bike since childhood. Two of the most attractive are in Greater Taichung; known as the Houfeng and Dongfeng bike paths, they can be completed in a single day.
Over at Forbes.com, my friend Ralph Jennings gives some sound advice for places (and categories of places) visitors to Taiwan should avoid if they dislike crowds, going beyond the obvious duo of night markets and temple festivals. He’s right in saying that around Yongkang Street (a foodie neighbourhood that’s become so popular the authorities have begun deleting any mention of it from official guides) and Taipei Main Station, there are always huge numbers of people, and finding a spot to sit down and have a relaxing coffee isn't easy. However, if you head into the capital’s backstreets, it isn’t difficult to find cafes where you can enjoy a bit of peace and quiet. Digital nomads are good at sniffing out such places.
I’ve never been to Yangmingshan National Park during flower season or when the cherry blossoms are out, and I’ve no intention of going. At weekends and on public holidays, the traffic in and out - not to mention the queues for buses and the lack of seats once you’re one - is bad enough. Yet in the middle of the week, the park is wonderful; get a copy of Richard Saunders’ book if you plan to do any serious exploring.
I’m not the only person who believes the allure of Kenting National Park is often overstated. The beaches aren’t that great, and the accommodation is overpriced. Go to Taitung, or the indigenous communities in the mountains of Pingtung, instead.
Number four on his list is the Danshui boardwalk on weekend afternoons. In my opinion, Danshui’s history always makes it worth visiting, and it’s near enough to Taipei you can leave the moment you feel bored. It’s not even necessary to return to the capital the way you came. If time allows, you can set off on a loop around the north coast, as I explain in this article.
Jennings finishes up with a warning anyone thinking of going to Taitung or Hualien should heed. Between Friday afternoon and late Sunday night, eastbound trains are often booked solid. To get tickets, try at least a week in advance. Go midweek if you can, because both the Kaohsiung-Taitung and Taipei-Hualien railroads provide varied and always interesting views.
Among places I’d add to the list: The Pingxi Branch Railway during the summer; the old heart of Anping on sunny weekends; and pretty much everywhere during the Lunar New Year holidays.
Dajia (大甲), now part of Greater Taichung, is synonymous with the cult of Mazu, the sea goddess revered by the Fujianese migrants who arrived in this region in the 17th and 18th centuries. Their principal house of worship is Jenn Lann Temple, founded in 1732.
Of course, humans were living in Dajia long before those settlers arrived. It's said the toponym Dajia derives from the name of the lowland aboriginal tribe that once dominated the area, the Taokas (道卡斯). Like Taiwan’s other indigenous groups, the Taokas were of Austronesian origin and spoke a language very different to Mandarin or Taiwanese, but somewhat similar to the Maori tongues of New Zealand. As a distinct tribe, they disappeared long ago, but some of their culture lives on in certain local traditions.
One location where the influence of aboriginal beliefs on local religious practices is still apparent is on the outskirts of Dajia, in Waipu District’s Xincuo (外埔區新厝). There, childless couples hoping for a baby pray to a 30cm-high rock known as the Baogong Stone (包公石). This object of veneration has a crudely phallic appearance, but - if you look closely- you’ll notice what could be eyes and other facial features.
Until 2010, the stone was kept in a land-god shrine. Because its apparent ability to cure infertility was drawing a lot of media coverage, there were fears it could be stolen. (From time to time, efficacious icons are snatched from Taiwanese temples.) It was thus moved to its current location, the front room of a private home in the neighbourhood. The family who look after the stone keep a list of couples who report pregnancies after coming here, and the stone is credited with three or four successes per month.
Taiwan's birthrate is no longer the lowest in the world, but it remains well below replacement level.
A couple's chances of conceiving are greater, it's claimed, if both visit and pray to the Baogong Stone. If only one can attend, he or she should bring some of his/her spouse's clothing, and rub the garments on the stone's tip. When telling a friend about this place, he asked: "Would rubbing underwear against the stone work better than, say, a sweater?"
It's a good question, and I wish I knew the answer.
One of the region's best short hikes, the Lushui Trail in Taroko National Park offers gorgeous vistas in both sunny weather and, as the two images below show, when conditions aren't so kind. Long stretches of the 2km-long trail are in forest, so you're never far from shade, which is important at the height of summer. There's also a crudely-cut tunnel; it's so short it doesn't matter if you've forgotten your flashlight, but taller individuals should take care not to scrape their heads on the ceiling.
Some visitors decide to skip this trail when they discover they must either retrace their steps, or march back along the road to where they parked your car or motorcycle. In my opinion, the trail is so attractive it's worth allotting the time and energy to do it both ways. You'll get different views, and you've a better chance of glimpsing endemic Formosan macaques.
No permits are needed for this trail, and the faint of heart can attempt it safe in the knowledge no section is nearly as precipitous as the Zhuilu Old Trail.
This sculpture, called Time's Radiograph, was created by Panaite Chifu of Romania in 2005, as part of that year's Hualien International Stone Sculpture Festival. It's on permanent display near the border between Hualien and Taitung counties, on a vantage point which overlooks the Pacific Ocean.
Public art isn't uncommon in Taiwan. In 1992, a law was passed which stipulated at least 1% of the budget of major building projects should be devoted to beautifying the surrounding environment with artworks. Several MRT stations in Taipei and Kaohsiung contain sculptures or installations; elevated stations in the latter are also striking pieces of architecture.
On a trip to Kaohsiung a few days before the Meinong Earthquake shook southern Taiwan, I noticed a Muslim Prayer Room near the back entrance to Kaohsiung TRA Station. This facility is part of the government's efforts to attract tourists from Muslim countries. Another important aspect of the campaign is encouraging restaurants at major tourist attractions to obtain halal certifications. Unlike the prayer room recently established at Taipei Main Railway Station, the prayer room in Kaohsiung TRA Station is very near washrooms where Muslims can carry out their traditional pre-prayer ablutions.
Very few Taiwanese follow Islam (no more than 0.3% of the population) but the progress Taiwan has made in transforming itself into a Muslim-friendly destination has got some recognition in target markets, such as Malaysia. Still, having been to Sun Moon Lake, Alishan and Taroko Gorge in recent weeks, it seems many of the Muslim visitors to these places aren't tourists from afar, but citizens of Indonesia and other countries already working or studying in Taiwan.
Information for Muslim travelers heading to Taiwan can be found here.
New Taipei City is Taiwan's most populous local-government division (officially, 3.97 million people live), but most of the municipality doesn't get as much attention from tourists as it perhaps deserves. International visitors typically spend a day or two in Taipei, then head east to Taroko Gorge, or south to Sun Moon Lake.
Fans of traditional architecture, and those who like to see how the gentry of yesteryear lived, have two options. The sometimes-crowded but easy-to-reach Lin Family Gardens in Banqiao, or the less well known Lee Family Mansion in Luzhou. (This blogger introduces both in the same post.)
Among north Taiwan's best beaches are Baishawan and Fulong. The former is not far from Danshui (some government departments prefer the heritage spelling, 'Tamsui'), and can be enjoyed as part of a daylong coastal tour I often recommend to people who want to get out of the big cities, but don't want to drive themselves or sign up for a guided excursion. Buses between Danshui and Jinshan are frequent. At Jinshan, it's easy to get aboard another bus which will take you on to Keelung, or over the mountains and back into central Taipei. Setting out from Danshui, there are several places worth stopping at, such as Laomei Algal Reef (near Fuji Fishing Harbor, where I took the photo above) and the Eighteen Lords Temple at Shimen. At each attraction, it's simply a matter of walking back to the main road (Highway 2) when you've seen enough, and making yourself comfortable (most stops have shelters and benches) until the next bus comes along.
As well as the Danshui-Jinshan-Keeling corridor, another place in New Taipei deserves special mention: Sanxia. Separated from the ceramics town of Yingge by the broad Dahan River, Sanxia has around 100,000 inhabitants. It can be reached by bus from the capital, from Yingge and also from Taoyuan. Natural resources including camphor, coal, tea and timber powered Sanxia's growth, and indigo dyeing was a major industry in the 19th century. However, when trains and trucks replaced boats as the main means of moving goods around north Taiwan, Sanxia was overtaken by upstart towns like Taoyuan.
Sanxia's most famous place of worship is regarded as a pinnacle of religious art in Taiwan. Zushi Temple has a fabulous number of wood and stone carvings: In addition to the usual dragons and sages, there are crabs and other crustaceans, elephants, fish, owls, pangolins (scaly anteaters about the size of a fox), and a whole orchestra of musicians. The gold leaf-bedecked ceiling of the central chamber, where incense is offered to Zushi, is breathtakingly ornate. Zushi, which means 'divine progenitor', is the godly name of a 13th-century government official honoured for his bravery at a time when the Mongols were invading China. The temple's long history has been punctuated by violence and dissent. Founded in 1769 and rebuilt in 1833, it was flattened during fighting between Japanese forces and Taiwanese militia in the War of 1895. Rebuilt again in 1899, a major renovation effort was begun in 1947 under the supervision of local politician and acclaimed painter Li Mei-shu. Since Li's death in 1983, progress on the temple has been stymied by rows among members of the management committee. Some prefer to use cheaper semi-finished decorations imported from the Chinese mainland, while others back Li's policy of employing local master carvers and artists.
Within walking distance of the temple there's a thoroughfare which not long ago reverted to its pre-1945 name, Sanjiaoyong Street (pictured here). Sanxia's original business hub is now a touristy “old street” but the renovated redbrick Baroque-style shop-houses are well worth seeing. Some of these dwellings are more than a century old, although the street's distinctive look did not appear until around 1915, when the colonial authorities ordered gutters to be added for reasons of public health. When the street was renovated in 2004—2006, the declared doctrine was 'original architecture, original materials'. This meant firing hundreds of mud bricks for internal partitions and straightening sagging roofs. Residents were permitted to build additional floors so long as facades were preserved and the classical appearance of the street maintained. Embellishments of vases (a symbol of peace, as in both Mandarin and Taiwanese the word for vase, ping, a homophone for peace) lotuses, dragons and lions were redone. The street and the alleyways that lead off it have been paved with chiselled granite slabs, while unavoidable modern features such as utility-hole covers and house numbers have been made to look as traditional as possible.
