Most tourists come to Taiwan for two or three days. They look around Taipei, sample the excellent Chinese cooking and the night life, see a temple or two, and perhaps get a few miles out of town to Wulai for the aborigines or to Yangmingshan to admire the rustic beauty of a hillside park. If they have booked air space in advance, they can make a one-day round trip to Hualien on the east coast to see the near-by spectacle of Taroko Gorge. For a first-time visitor with limited time at his disposal, this is quite enough. Taipei and environs can keep a tourist busy and interested for from 48 to 72 hours.
Increasingly, however, Taiwan's tourists are returning for a second look. They want to get out of Taipei and "really see" this lovely island province of the Republic of China. Such an intention also is in keeping with the new, sophisticated touristic view which holds that you can know nothing of a country until you leave its big towns and bright lights behind. It has been said—with some justification these days—that all the big cities are alike, that only in the countryside can the traveler find exotic color and a difference.
With this in mind, we set out to discover what you can see and do on Taiwan in a week, how much it costs, what is worthwhile and what is not, and the various alternatives that might be afforded the venturesome tourist. Because Taiwan is a sort of mountain edged with plains, it presents certain complications in the arrangement of an itinerary. It seemed to us that the best approach would be the simple one of going all around the island—or as nearly so as possible—and that is what we did. This is the story of our odyssey.
Obviously, if you can go around Taiwan from east to west, you also can go from west to east. We decided on east to west for a rather complex reason. The island's most popular resort is Sun Moon Lake in the foothills of the Central Mountain Range and accessible only from the west-central coast. Until air travel to the lake becomes generally available, a trip there involves a night and parts of two days. With only a week to spare, that is a sizable investment. Besides, Sun Moon Lake is well known and widely publicized. One goal of our trip was to get off the beaten track. So the decision was to go to Sun Moon Lake only if time permitted, and that meant on the way back to Taipei. It also meant starling the journey on the east coast, which has the added attraction of being much less familiar—even to most residents of Taiwan.
Another decision was to eschew air travel, whenever possible, for the simple reason that you don't sec much from an airplane—you just get there faster. Only one short lap was covered by air, and that to save long and tedious hours of bus travel. The fact that one of us is subject to air-sickness also may have had something to do with avoiding planes.
We foregathered at the Taipei railroad station at 8:45 on a Monday morning and had a cup of coffee in the restaurant. That was our first mistake. The coffee was fine, the cream fresh, and the sugar sweet. But by the time we got through the barrier and aboard the Suao-bound express, all the seats were gone. This is a 2½-hour journey and we stood up for more than half the distance. There is a reserved-seat express at 1:45 p.m. but the morning departure time is more convenient for a tourist. The secret is to get there at 8:45 and skip the coffee. Those who are not traveling too heavy should be able to scrimmage their way to a seat.
The countryside from Taipei to the Keelung spur line is pleasant—rolling green hills, pleasant meadows, peaceful rice paddies, a succession of small towns and villages. Keelung, the island's northern port, is one of the wettest cities in the world. Rainfall averages around 160 inches a year. It is said that precipitation can be measured on more than 300 of each 365 days. The lush greenness of northern Taiwan is one result.
After the Keelung turnoff, the landscape becomes more mountainous. This is coal country. Collieries can be seen above the railroad embankment. The small towns are inhabited chiefly by miners and their families. TV antennas are sprouting, however, and there is an air of prosperity.
The sea is never far away in Taiwan—the island is 90 miles across at the widest—and it heaves into view at the popular beach resort of Fulung. Happily—otherwise it would be too crowded-Fulung is a monopoly of the Taiwan Railway Administration. You can't get there any other way. For some reason, nobody has gotten around to building a decent road. TRA has a hotel and bungalows nestle in the woods along the seashore. Prices are reasonable. In season (May-October), special trains operate between Taipei and Fulung.
But on the way to Suao, Fulung is a momentary stop. The train is on its way once more, now affording an interesting marinescape of blue-green water, odd-shaped islets, and abbreviated beaches of white-yellow sand and a gentle surf. On the right (western) side, the mountains seem to grow bigger and more forbidding. Then a valley opens up and reveals the bustling, fast-growing industrial center of llano Population of the city has climbed to 60,000 and of the county to 370,000 despite location on this once nearly inaccessible coast. Two logging stations help feed raw material to four good-sized paper mills. Cement and alkali plants are operating. Ilan now reaches the outside world via rail, a cross-island highway to Taipei and beyond, and coastal shipping lines.
Time for Lunch
The plain on which Ilan is located is a phenomenon not often repeated along the east coast. It opens up at Toucheng just to the north and closes down at our destination of Suao, whioh now is fast approaching. Perhaps too much is expected of a place with such a romantic sounding name as Suao (pronounced sueow). If so, disappointment is inevitable. It is a township with population of 42,000. Fishing is the principal occupation. The town itself is a couple of streets of small shops; color and character are lacking.
However, Suao is a jumping-off place, and it is well to be fortified with luncheon. The railroad station will check your bags while you book passage on the Golden Horse (express bus) that will leave for Hualien, the next city southward, at 1 p.m. The railroad ends here at Suao-later you will find out why. With bags checked and tickets in hand, the search for an eating place begins. Save your breath and limb. There is only one restaurant of even small consequence: that operated by the railroad a stone's throw from the station. It's not Sardi's—but the fish is edible. Anyway, when traveling in Taiwan, take our advice: eat Chinese. Perhaps Chinese food is so simple to fix that it cannot be wholly ruined. In any event, it's a lot better than third or fourth-class Western food.
Your bus seats are reserved—so relax, enjoy the shrimp and fish, and sip your tea. Then pick up your bags at the station and climb aboard your flying Golden Horse. It will be one of a procession—the reserved-seat Pegasuses in front and the unreserved, economical, hard-board, broken-down ordinary stages at the rear. With a roll of the horn, the first Golden Horse takes off through the quickly vanishing streets of Suao. You settle back to take it easy. After all, there are 118 kilometers and four hours ahead.
About five minutes, and the relaxation ends. You find out why the railroad ran out of track. In this part of Taiwan, they seem to have made the beach two inches wide or to have omitted it entirely. The mountains drop right down to the water. So the road has been blasted out of cliffs many hundreds and even more than a thousand feet above the roily waters. In places it tunnels through solid rock. In others, it is a serpent, clinging to the cliffside and slithering over rock that looks fragile and ready to slip into the sea. Sometimes the left rear wheel is suspended over nothing. Sometimes the right wheel seems to be digging into the mountain.
Airborne Golden Horse
Such adventures—and such roads—cannot go on endlessly. Occasionally there must be surcease. In the case of the Suao Hualien highway, it comes in the form of descents into valleys carved out by streams descending from the mountains. The highway suddenly leaves off tunneling and cantilevering over the ocean and hairpins down to sea level - a beach, a village, and a bus station. Here is where you meet the buses going the other way. Naturally, the road is one-way. If ever you met another Golden Horse head-on, somebody would really have to fly. Everybody waits for everyone else in the valley villages. When all are in sight, the way must be clear to the next stop.
We don't want to exaggerate. But it's true that if you are sitting on the left side (going south), you sometimes look out your window and think you are airborne. Probably the danger is slight. They say a bus has never been lost on this tortuous route. It's reassuring to be told so. For the easily motion-sick, the endless twistings and turnings are brutal. Merely watching the driver make what look like 360o turns of the steering wheel is enough to make anybody dizzy.
The last descent is to an old bridge that has been condemned as beyond the weight of more than a bicycle. A new one is under construction. But for the time being, the bus must lurch and sway its way across a river gulch and a ford, and hopefully pant up the other side to the junction of the Taroko and Hualien highways. For the moment, the traveler can only gaze into the darkening gap that is the gorge, then listen to the singing of the tires as the bus picks up speed and hurtles along the broad and finally level highway into Hualien.
Now we are in the tropics. There is a palm smell in the air and green growth and pink blossoms are everywhere. Television antennas are fewer. In Ilan they sprouted everywhere, geaing higher and higher. In Hualien they all but disappear. So does the picture. The TV shops proudly display it, diagonal lines, fadeouts and all. TV is today's symbol of conspicuous consumption. This reminds us of a story that gets ahead in terms of geography but that fits the subject matter. In Taitung, our next stop to the south, TV has not yet arrived. The city is hemmed in by mountains to the north, the south, and the west—and the sea lies on the east. Yet some radio shops proudly displayed television receivers. As one clerk attested, "They look so good and TV will get here eventually."
Busy Airport
But back to Hualien. It's a pleasant place, notable for its harbor, the third international port in Taiwan. Perhaps it doesn't look like mueh to the visitor from Liverpool or Los Angeles, yet it is coming to be the economic bellwether of the east coast, exporting marble, marine products, timber, and getting ready for industrialization. Wharves accommodate ships of up to 10,000 tons, Chinese naval vessels are frequent visitors. Sometimes an American destroyer shows the flag. Across the roads, fishing boats are numerous. The capacity of 3,000 tons takes care of anything fishing in Taiwan waters. Cargo warehouses are new and railroad spurs run along the wharves. Customs are ready and waiting—but not yet too busy. Hualien has caught up with the times; the times are still catching up with Hualien.
It's another story at the airport. Here China Air Lines' flights come in from Taipei and the southern port city of Kaohsiung twice a day, bearing a steady stream of tourists for Taroko. It is possible to fly into Hualien, see Taroko, and get back to Taipei all in one day. The cost is less than US$20 for a couple.
We came by train and bus, however, and are no one-day wonders. We must find accommodations for the first night on the road. Hualien offers a choice of three hotels: the First, Golden Dragon, and Hua Yuan. Accommodations are at a level of international second class at from US$5 to $7.50 a day. The Chinese food is good. Within a minute's walk of the hotels are a couple of restaurants that take no back talk from Taipei.
The morning of the second day is reserved for Taroko. It is possible to keep on going through the gorge and wind up-via the East-West Cross-Island Highway-on the western plain. But that was not our intention-fortunately, as it turned out. At the time of our trip, the East-West Highway was blocked by landslides. This is not unusual. It rains heavily in the mountains and Taiwan is subject to typhoons that sometimes blow the skyline down. Anyway, before you start a trip across the Central Mountain Range, ask your travel agent or the bus line.
Ami troupe dances for Hualien visitors. (File photo)
In a sense, seeing Taroko is the equivalent of crossing the East-West Highway. This is the most spectacular part of the longer journey. Taroko can be reached from Hualien by bus, taxi or private car. Regardless of the means of transportation, the cost is small. If the whole day is devoted to Taroko, you can go as far as Tien Hsiang Lodge and have lunch there. The lodge has a few rooms for overnight guests. On the occasion of our trip, the road was blocked beyond Yen Tze Kao, and even the lodge was inaccessible—so the morning was sufficient for sightseeing.
To reach Taroko, the bus or car heads north for half an hour, then turns west at Hsincheng and dives through a tiny slit in the towering mountains. This is the gorge, an ever-changing world of soaring granite faces. At the bottom is the boulder-strewn course of the racing, white-capped Liwu river. The incredible single-lane road (hourly traffic controls are imposed) bores through the rock, which sometimes is almost solid marble. To travel this way is to understand why more than 100 retired servicemen died in building the East-West Highway during the late 1950s. Unending road maintenance is required—and is still dangerous. The objective is to widen the road so it may be kept open most of the time.
Temple in the Clouds
At Taroko, a shrine nestles at the bottom of a precipitous peak rising from the river bed. Halfway up the mountain a temple seems to cling to the clouds. Mists swirl through the canyon. Then comes a momentary sight of blue sky and the light of day a thousand feet or more above the canyon's floor. Taroko's fascination lies in the depth and narrowness of this cleft, hollowed out by water's relentless course to the sea. Its closest counterpart in the United States is the King's River Canyon of the Sierra Nevada in California.
Back in Hualien we toured the port and the town and decided to press on to Taitung, 175 kilometers to the south and the last city on the cast coast. We were lucky to get the last two scats on the Hualicn-Taitung narrow gauge diesel express departing at 1 p.m. There are six express departures daily. For those who spend more time at Taroko, the 4:45 and 6:35 times are convenient. It is advisable to book as far in advance as possible, because the expresses have only two cars. Time for the run is 4½ hours. The regular trains take considerably longer and are not as comfortable. All trains are crowded. The highway from Hualien to Taitung is sometimes not much more than a trail and most people prefer the railroad to the bus.
Booming Taitung
From Hualien, the railroad heads west a few miles and then south through a narrow valley separated from the sea by the Taitung mountains. To the west is the Central Mountain chain. This valley peters out near Taitung and the diesel pants its way through hilly country and into bustling, prosperous Taitung, a city of 65,000.
Although farther south, Taitung lacks the tropical charm of Hualien. Nevertheless, it is a place of pleasant outlook, nestled on a small plain at the foot of an arc of hills. Only a few years ago, Taitung was poverty-stricken and its underemployed people were scratching out a bare living. Then came the island's largest pineapple cannery, operated by the Taiwan Sugar Corporation, to pack and export new plantings. In 1958, only 55,000 cases were packed and 3,100 exported. For 1964 the figure was 847,000 cases, of which 715,000 were sold abroad. Pineapple has brought prosperity to Taitung. The Taisuco product is sold even in Hawaii. Some is packed under famous Hawaiian labels.
Taitung also has a sizable sugar factory, a rice processing mill, other food processing plants, a chemical industry, and lumber mills. The city is short of cultural attractions, but is worth seeing as an example of the prosperity that free enterprise is bringing to Tai wan communities. A nearby fishing village is interesting, and the home of C.K. Yang, Asia's iron man holder of the world's decathlon record, is in the outskirts. A hillside park offers a panoramic view of city and sea. Chinese food is good at Lu Min Chun, a newly built restaurant. The lone hostelry is the Golden City, where rooms are $2.50 a day and worth no more.
Taitung is not the end of the island. The real land's end is Oluanpi, but to get there from Taitung is a problem. The high way to Kaohsiung runs southward out of Taitung and almost gets to Oluanpi before it crosses the sharply narrowing island. Here the mountains have almost vanished. Then the road heads north. The catch is that south of Kaohsiung there is no place to stay. So to get to Oluanpi it is necessary to go to Kaohsiung and then retrace one's steps. If the Taitung-Kaohsiung journey is made by bus, the time will be some six hours and with nothing much to see.
We decided to take the China Air Lines flight, which departs from a primitive dirt strip operated by the Chinese Air Force at 10:50 a.m. The route is south (to avoid the high mountains), allowing a good view of the coastline, then west across still rugged peaks, and finally northward past several thriving cities and into the Kaohsiung airport, which is being expanded and which sooner or later will become a port of international entry. Kaohsiung, Taiwan's largest port and second largest city (550,000), is almost due east and about 300 miles from Hongkong.
It was noon of the third day. In Kaohsiung, food and lodging are no problem. There are two excellent hotels, the Garden and the Grand. For those getting tired of Chinese food, the Grand is noted for the excellence of its Western cuisine. Charges are reasonable: single rooms around US$5 a day. The Oluanpi trip is easily arranged. The Taiwan Highway Bureau has a one-day Golden Horse bus excursion leaving at 8 in the morning and returning at 6 in the evening. That leaves an afternoon and an evening to look around Kaohsiung. The harbor is of interest, especially the industrial export processing zone that is nearing completion on reclaimed land. Industries abound. The city itself has more of a Japanese Havor than the population centers of the north. Only a few minutes away is Chengching Lake, an important reservoir and a pleasant place for a walk or a boat ride. Pavilions and other colorful structures dot the shoreline. By night, there is a spectacular view of city and harbor lights from a hill above the downtown area. Kaohsiung has a lively night life and one of the island's biggest and best-stocked department stores.
Perhaps it would have been better to skip Oluanpi in favor of Sun Moon Lake. The island's tip has a lighthouse, botanical garden, and museum. Except to say you have been to the southern end of Taiwan, these attractions probably are not worth the whole day required.
City of History
After the return from Oluanpi, the fourth night can be spent in Kaohsiung or the traveler can proceed northward by bus or train to Tainan, only an hour away. Tainan was the Dutch capital of Taiwan from 1624 to 1661 and historically is one of the island's most interesting sites. It is also a busy modern city of 380,000 and a center of military air activity. Three good hotels are available: Tainan, Long Beach, and Tien Jen. Two of them have bowling alleys, all have night clubs, and the Tainan has Japanese as well as Chinese and Western food.
The fifth day was devoted to the historical monuments and temples of Tainan. They were worth it. In this ancient capital, the Chinese hero Cheng Cheng-kung, better known in the West as Koxinga, comes alive. He was the son of a Ming official and a Japanese mother. When the Ming dynasty fell before the invading Manchus in 1644, he refused to surrender. With other loyal Ming followers, he went to the offshore island of Kinmen (Quemoy) and there outfitted 1,200 junks. With these he fought the Manchus and ravaged the South China coast. In 1661 he invaded Taiwan to drive out the Dutch and make the island a bastion for counterattack against the Manchus.
We began our exploration of these ancient times at Chihkan Tower in the heart of Tainan. Three hundred years ago it was Fort Providentia and flew the flag of the Netherlands. Koxinga seized the fort and made it his headquarters for further military operations against the Dutch. Cannon of that era are still to be seen in the courtyard. Within the fort itself are some other relics of the past, including samples of Koxinga's handwriting. Unfortunately, the building is poorly maintained. It should be refurbished and a small admission charge exacted to finance adequate care.
Half an hour away is a larger fort, Zeelandia, where the Dutch surrendered to Koxinga in 1662. It is better kept up than Providentia, and stands on a rise that once commanded a sweeping view of the sea. Now the ocean is nowhere to be seen, although it is not far away. Lookout towers and barred cells are still in evidence, along with the thick-walled main fortress. Defensively, Zeelandia must have been very strong.
Into the Mountains
Tainan is also the site of many temples. The most impressive is the island's largest shrine dedicated to Confucius, built by Koxinga's son in 1666. Behind the main structure is a hexagonal three-story pagoda-style building called Wen Chang Hall. This temple is in good repair and the grounds are large. Many varieties of indigenous trees are to be found within the compound. Among the other temples are Tien Hou, dedicated to the Goddess Ma Tsu, originally the mansion of a Ming prince and once used as the palace of Chu I-kuei, the Duck King, during his brief revolution against the Manchus; Chu Hsi, a Buddhist edifice built in 1691; Mi To, built by Koxinga's son; the Taoist temple Tien Tan, built in the early days of the Manchus; and Fa Hua, one of the city's oldest shrines, with its pagoda and venerable trees. Also interesting is the Tomb of the Five Queens, just outside the south gate. Here are buried the five wives of Prince Ning Ching of the Ming dynasty.
Taiwan trains are fast, well maintained. (File photo)
Filled to the ears with historical lore and sanctimonious from temple visits, we caught the evening express to Chiayi, an hour's journey farther north and the jumping-off place for a penetration of the Central Mountain Range. The tickets were booked the night before. This is always advisable, because the expresses of the Taiwan Railway Administration are ordinarily filled to capacity. There are other trains, but these are slower and far less comfortable. They have neither air conditioning nor individual reclining seats. Chiayi has an acceptable hotel, the Kuo Hwa, and several good Chinese restaurants. The population is 210,000.
Tickets for the mountain trip on the Alishan railroad of the Forest Administration had been booked in Taipei through the Taiwan Travel Service. TTS also has an office in Chiayi but the mountain expresses are crowded, and ·the traveler arriving in Chiayi without a ticket and hoping to go to Alishan may be disappointed. Additionally, the express goes up one morning and down the next—so it is essential to get to Chiayi the evening before a departure day. The city is in the heart of a thriving agricultural area and doesn't have much of interest to the tourist. There are a couple of parks, some temples, and a monument to mark the Tropic of Cancer, just to the south. That's about all.
The Alishan train leaves at 8 in the morning and takes four hours for its fascinating ascent of the 7,500-foot mountain. The two-car new red diesel is spick and span. Extra-wide windows permit a good view to either side. Stewardesses serve tea. Snacks can be bought from hucksters at a village halfway up. Narrow-gauge railroad buffs will be in eighth heaven. They ride in the comfort of the new train—but at Chiayi and Alishan and stops in between, they can get their fill of the old coal-burners that still haul freight and frugal passengers up and down the mountain. However, this will not be possible much longer. The steam locomotives are fire hazards and are being replaced as fast as funds become available. Two more tourist diesel units are to be added within the next couple of years, making daily round trips possible.
We have covered the Alishan portion of the trip in detail in a previous article, "Taiwan's Mountain Railroad" (Free China Review, August, 1965), so only the highlights will be mentioned here. Suffice it to say that for US$3.25 (round trip), the tourist gets a lot for his money. The ascent offers a panorama of flora ranging from the tropical to plants of the temperate forest zone. At the top there is much to see besides the huff-puffing steam locomotives. Included are the Three Generation and Sacred Trees, Sister Ponds, a museum, cherry blossoms in season, and the spectacle of the sun rising over Yushan (Mt. Morrison), which at nearly 13,000 feet is the highest peak in East Asia.
A half-day of looking around, an evening with nothing to do, and an early rising (for the sunrise) used to be the typical Alishan visitation. This may be revised with Forest Administration completion of a new and comfortable lodge. Alishan finally has good Western-style accommodations and food and drink to match. The mountain is not yet ready for winter sports—but that time may not be far away. Even when there is no snow, higher elevations are close at hand. The easiest access to Yushan and the top of Taiwan is via the railroad and a trail beyond.
But for us, this is the seventh day. The trip down the mountain takes half an hour less than the ascent. The express for Taipei stops at the same Chiayi station as the Alishan diesel. Having learned about sold-out trains before, we had booked our express tickets the day before and crawled tiredly aboard to snooze away part of the four and a half hours back to Taipei. The Alishan sunrise had been fine, except that it came too early. On the Kaohsiung-Taipei express, however, lunch comes before sleep. These mainline expresses carry dining cars that serve Western and Chinese food, and there are the alternatives of sandwiches or Chinese-style box lunches from the butcher boy. Tea is free and your glass is kept full.
Bargain in Tourism
Because our week was up, we had to pass up Sun Moon Lake and merely look out the window at Taichung, the island's third largest city and take-off point for the lake. However, a Sun Moon Lake visit could have been made by adding only one day to our itinerary. As it was, we had seen quite a bit in six nights and seven days. We had been all around Taiwan at extremely modest cost. For each of us, the transportation expense was US$14, lodging US$24, and food US$25. Other costs were negligible.
A non-Chinese-speaking foreigner might ask whether it is essential to be accompanied by a guide or Chinese-speaking friend. The answer is absolutely not, although that may add spice to the trip. Throughout Taiwan are Chinese eager to show off English, Spanish, French, German, Japanese, and remnants thereof. The danger is not lack of communication but a plethora of it, sometimes based on misinformation or misunderstanding.
Those who have a week to see Taiwan can do worse than follow in our footsteps. Taiwan is a middle-sized island, but after you have been 250 miles to its end and then all the way back up the other coast, it seems to have grown a lot bigger. In all the world, we doubt that you can see more for the price.