A crack in the marble
Taiwan | Anno 2013
Saturday, April 6 | Fo Guang Shan – Darren – Beinan
Sunday, April 7 | Beinan Valley – Hualien
Monday, April 8 | Hualien – Taroko National Park – Lushui Trail – Tianxiang
Tuesday, April 9 | Taroko NP – Shakadang Trail – Nanfang'ao – Taipei
Saturday, April 6 | Fo Guang Shan – Darren – Beinan
A turning point in our trip, both literally and figuratively, occurs here. We embark on the journey to the inhospitable east coast of the island. It’s goodbye to temples and monasteries. Buddhas and bodhisattvas make way for mountains and forests. Nature will take over from culture for the next three days.
Buddhas and bodhisattvas make way for mountains and forests
To cross the island, we would normally take the Southern Cross-Island Highway through the mountains. However, Typhoon Morakot wreaked havoc there in 2009, washing away the road in some places. Since then, this route has been closed to all traffic. This is unfortunate because the adventurous path through the mountains is known as one of Taiwan's top tourist attractions.
As a result, our driver, Mister Pen, is forced to opt for the southern route. More than an hour later, we reach Fenggang, where we turn our backs on the Taiwan Strait and finally head east into the interior. This is our southernmost point in Taiwan, just forty kilometres from the island’s southern tip.
Pacific Ocean
Via the excellent Highway 9, we climb through the Fenggang Valley into the mountains. Shortly after three, in Darren, we catch our first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean. We drive north along the steep coast, heading toward ominous, dark clouds. It doesn't take long before a subtropical downpour grips us for more than half an hour.
The road winds just above the seawater, over the foothills of mountain ridges that reach the coast. There is barely any habitation, only the inlets at the mouths of the rivers offer some space for life.
There is barely any habitation, only the inlets at the mouths of the rivers offer some space for life
Aborigines, the original inhabitants of Taiwan, can be found here more frequently than in the western coastal plains. Tour guide Charles doesn't think highly of them. According to him, they receive more favourable conditions in government exams, in order to involve them more in public life. If one needs 400 points for a certain exam, for them, 320 points suffice, he sneers.
About thirty kilometres off the coast, near Taitung, lies Lyudao, better known as Green Island. What Robben Island was to South Africa, Green Island was to the repressive Taiwan of Chiang Kai-shek – the most notorious camp for political prisoners. Charles doesn't mention it at all.
Beinan
Unperturbed, Mister Pen now turns the steering wheel westward into the mountains, heading towards Beinan, away from the coast. White clouds of steam rise here and there between the greenery above the houses. This indicates that we are in the midst of volcanic hot springs – the earth’s hot tears, as they are sometimes called.
At the reception of the Royal Chihpen hotel, Alice takes her time to thoroughly describe all the facilities the hotel has in store for us. Central to her explanation are the hot springs. You can enjoy them in the Spa Paradise, the Open-Air Spa, and the Spa Complex. We ask which of the three she recommends. She doesn’t hesitate for a second – the Open-Air Spa, because there you don’t need your swimming wear. Naked, Charles sums up the concept, as if we hadn’t understood that. He refuses to believe or accept that the term 'spa' used here for the springs originates from the Belgian town Spa.
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Part of the bathroom is set up as a hot water bath. Through a wide slit in the wall, the hot, mineral-rich spring water continuously gushes inside
Even the hotel rooms are connected to the hot springs. Part of the bathroom is set up as a hot water bath – complete with a small bench and a water basin. Through a wide slit in the wall, the hot, mineral-rich spring water continuously gushes inside.
But we opt for something better, as higher up on the slope, a bathhouse has been built around the hot springs. In our room, white yukatas are provided, the traditional, originally Japanese bathrobes that you wear when going to public baths. It's still drizzling outside, so we arm ourselves with umbrellas to climb the sloping path to the Open-Air Spa. It feels a bit strange to walk in the open air in your bathrobe with an umbrella on the way to your hot bath.
Our paths part for a moment – men and women bathe separately here. You’re given a towel, a sweat cloth, and a key for a locker. Since you’re literally wearing nothing, the only thing you can store in that locker is your room key.
The pools turn out to be quite small – a hot bath about four meters by three and a tiny cold-water bath. A handful of men are already sitting in the hot water, panting. I sink into the hot water. When you're submerged up to your neck in hot water and want to keep your sweat cloth dry, there's only one solution – place it on your head. It feels a bit silly, but the Taiwanese do the same. Somehow, they still manage to radiate an air of dignity and elegance from beneath their sweat cloth.
So far, so good. Until suddenly I realise that I forgot to shower beforehand. In Japan, that would be an unforgivable mistake. My fellow bathers surely noticed it. The fact that they didn't all rush out of the bath means that their tolerance just wins over their mysophobia.
The fact that they didn't all rush out of the bath means that their tolerance just wins over their mysophobia
What a café is for the Belgians, a hot spring is for the Taiwanese – the ideal place to have a chat. A lively conversation quickly unfolds, although not all present are fluent in English. Their questions are predictable – where are you from, where are you going, what do you think of this country...
The hot water takes quite a toll on your energy – the bathwater temperature is said to be between 40 and 43 °C (between 104 and 109 °F). The sweat cloth turns out to be indispensable. I never thought that warm water could be so exhausting. After half an hour, I’ve had enough. With an umbrella, I descend through the rain back to the hotel.
In the evening, the restaurant is incredibly busy. Taiwanese aborigines are performing. We are charmed by the native dances, especially during the finale, when the dancers tiptoe between rhythmically clapping bamboo sticks to a frenzied rhythm.
Sunday, April 7 | Beinan Valley – Hualien
The clouds hang low between the mountains, but the rain stays away. In front of our room door, we find our morning newspaper with a little sticker on it. It succinctly summarises the weather forecast: cloudy, 17 to 20 °C (63 to 68 °F).
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Colourful koi, symbols of love and friendship in Japan, gulp for food with their mouths wide open
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In the garden around the hotel, the ponds are teeming with life. Colourful koi, symbols of love and friendship in Japan, gulp for food with their mouths wide open. A pair of black swans glide majestically over the green water. One of the swans fiddles among the stones and emerges with a frightened frog in its beak. But its jaws lose control, and the frog falls back into the water. Motionless, it floats on the surface, its legs splayed wide open. The swan pokes at the lifeless body a bit but quickly loses interest in the inanimate object. A little later, the seemingly not-so-dead frog cautiously swims back to the shore and disappears under the plants.
A little later, the seemingly not-so-dead frog cautiously swims back to the shore and disappears under the plants
Wood duck |
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Black swan |
Just after nine, we continue our journey along the east coast. A fruit stall by the coastal road catches our attention. Charles wants us to try the sugar apple or sweetsop. These are green, round fruits about ten centimetres in diameter, with a rough, scaly skin resembling a Buddha’s head. You can easily break the soft fruit in two with both hands, revealing the juicy white segments inside. You break off these segments one by one, and then, slightly leaning forward, you consume the succulent flesh as if it were a peach – the juice drips from your fingers. According to Charles, these fruits are not known in Europe because they need to be eaten almost freshly picked. Long-distance transport is not an option.
Sugar apple or sweetsop |
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We drive north through the Beinan Valley. To the left, the Central Mountains accompany us, and to the right, the Coastal Mountains. With those misty mountains in the background, you might imagine yourself in Japan, surrounded by green rice fields. According to Charles, the rice grown here is the best in Taiwan. In the midst of vast green rice fields, we make a brief stop in Fuli, where a cooperative of rice farmers operates the local rice refinery.
With those misty mountains in the background, you might imagine yourself in Japan, sur-rounded by green rice fields
Beinan Valley – Fuli rice fields |
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We descend through the Siouguluan Valley to the East Rift Valley nature park. The river looks harmless, but further upstream, it is wild enough to be popular with rafters. The Fongping, a tributary of the Siouguluan, also seems benign. Right now, it's almost dry. High dikes attempt to contain the river in a bed nearly a hundred meters wide during the rainy season, but this doesn’t always work. Typhoons push large boulders downstream, causing the riverbed to rise higher and higher. Occasionally, the river dares to cross over the concrete dikes, scattering massive boulders across the fields, making them unusable for cultivation. It’s a strange sight, green fields dotted with boulders up to a meter thick, scattered like marbles.
Beinan Valley – Fuli rice fields |
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Further along, the road is lined on both sides with beautiful mango trees. So many birds flutter around the trees that a special traffic sign warns drivers about the busy flurry of activity.
We are about to experience the traditions of one of the indigenous peoples
We are about to experience the traditions of one of the indigenous peoples. We expect singing, dancing, and handcrafted artworks. But that’s not what Charles has in store for us. Unbeknownst to us, we are about to be swept into a spectacle where, in the end, we ourselves will play the leading role.
There are no more than half a million Taiwanese aborigines. Their languages belong to the Austronesian group, indicating that they are descendants of peoples from the Pacific islands. This likely also explains why Taiwan receives international recognition mainly from Polynesia.
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Woodcarving by the Amis |
Fourteen tribal groups are currently recognised by the government. The largest of these are the Amis, with over one-third of the indigenous population being Amis. You will mainly find them in the coastal region of the rugged east. Fishing is their obvious livelihood. Traditionally, they have formed a matriarchal society – after marriage, the man moves in with the woman's family. Since the second half of the last century, they have also begun marrying Han Chinese and members of other ethnic groups.
You have to split the stick with the small hammer that has been specially provided, allowing the sticky rice to be revealed
Lalan’s House – Sticky rice cooked in a closed bamboo stick |
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At twenty past twelve, Lalan Unak warmly welcomes us to Lalan’s House. We take our seats in one of the open-air pavilions of his traditional restaurant. A fully loaded table awaits us – chicken, duck, a whole fish grilled in a salt crust, various vegetables, raw tomatoes, soup, steamed rice, and sticky rice. The sticky rice has been cooked in a closed bamboo stick. Opening it is no easy task; you have to split the stick with the small hammer that has been specially provided, allowing the sticky rice to be revealed.
It is gradually dawning on us that we are supposed to start fishing ourselves soon
Meanwhile, another guest has appeared on the scene, namely Joyce, a police officer from Hong Kong. Travelling solo, she is backpacking through the country. Soon, she will join us for the entertainment.
After the copious lunch, Lalan explains the fishing life of the Amis. In fact, Lalan belongs to the Bangtha, a subgroup of the Amis. Right next to the pavilions, a small pond with clear water has been dug out. Lalan will give his presentation there, as it’s not so easy in the muddy river water. The pond is connected to the river, allowing fish to grow in safe conditions.
What Lalan explains in Chinese leaves nothing to be desired in terms of clarity. We can deduce this from the fact that Joyce seems to understand everything immediately. However, once Charles provides his most individualised translation into English, it suddenly becomes a different story. We learn that they cultivate three types in this aquaculture, which Charles conveniently calls all fish, even though it partially includes shellfish – mainly shrimp, but also little crabs.
Under the water's surface, we had already thought we spotted something that looked like a jumble of wood. Apparently, there is more to it, as it now turns out to be a complex three-layer structure built by Lalan himself. At the very bottom, bamboo poles rest on the bottom, on top of which are tied bundles of branches, and at the very top, water plants grow.
They breed three species in this aquaculture – fish, shrimp and little eels
Lalan with fishing net |
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Little eels |
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Shrimp |
That is precisely the favourite habitat of respectively little eels, shrimp, and fish. The waste from the fish that nibble on the water plants serves as food for the sticks below, which then grow moss and algae, and are subsequently enjoyed by the shrimp. The dark bamboo poles at the bottom provide an excellent refuge for the little eels.
Gradually, it begins to dawn on us that the plan is for us to go fishing ourselves. Lalan shows us how it’s done. He pulls one of the bundles of branches from the water and taps it against a fishnet – a handful of shrimp falls out. It seems easy enough. Then he retrieves one of the bamboo poles from the bottom of the pond, places his fingers like a filter over one of the open ends, and pours the bamboo pole out. Murky water gushes through his fingers, but only some mud remains in his hands – not a single little eel. We realise that this is not exactly our cup of tea. Finally, Lalan concludes his presentation by stating that we will catch the fish in a joint drive using our bare hands. Charles and Joyce are already excited. Now it’s our turn.
On the way to the river, Lalan points out the pupongta, a lotus that only grows in Taiwan. A species of papyrus also flourishes here. It closely resembles the Egyptian variety and is used to make boats. Further down the river, there are some messy dams. It’s a real mess, Lalan chuckles. The amateurs who built that will surely not find a wife.
Resolutely, we dig up a few bundles of branches to shake them out one by one above a fishnet
Where are the shrimp? |
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Then comes the moment of truth. Shoes and socks come off, pant legs are rolled up, and we wade into the mud-black water, while the shrimps are undoubtedly laughing their heads off. Resolutely, we dig up a few bundles of branches to shake them out one by one above a fishnet. Catch: exactly one shrimp.
Now the dirty work begins. We pull the bamboo poles one by one from the muddy riverbed and let them drain between our fingers. Catch: zero point zero. Although it cannot be denied that at one point, something slippery gushed through our fingers with the water. Undoubtedly, an eel has a strong tale to tell its grandchildren about this experience.
We pull the bamboo poles one by one from the muddy riverbed and let them drain between our fingers. Catch: zero point zero
Where are the little eels? |
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Where are the fish? |
Shoulder to shoulder, we now enter the final phase. With four fishnets set up side by side, we scrape the riverbed. This yields us a whopper of a fish. That satisfies us, but not Lalan. It seems that he must have previously released two fish himself. We reverse the procedure and, lo and behold, we pull up an even larger specimen. Lalan is pleased, and we proudly pose with our catch for a photo.
In a cloud of steam, the vegetable releases its moisture, creating a hot soup of fish, shrimp, and vegetables
Result of the fishing |
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Steaming in the bark of a betel nut tree |
Back in the kitchen, Lalan immediately gets to work. He has fashioned a small bowl from the bark of a betel nut tree. In it, he places our fish and some shrimp – fortunately, he still had a supply of his own – on a bed of a vegetable that resembles watercress. Meanwhile, he has heated some thick stones to glowing hot over a charcoal fire. Using tongs, he places the stones one by one into the bowl. In a cloud of steam, the vegetable releases its moisture, creating a hot soup of fish, shrimp, and vegetables. We enjoy the meal – it couldn’t be fresher.
It’s a quarter to three when we continue our journey with Joyce in the back seat. We give her a lift to Hualien. Charles has a little surprise for us – the Sugar Factory in Guang Fu. There is no longer a sugar refinery, only a few historic residential barracks remain among the greenery. Some of them are in Japanese style, as the oldest dates back to 1922. Between 1949 and 1955, some more recent barracks were added under the Kuomintang. Some have been restored and are used as a hotel. After just a quarter of an hour, we’re on our way.
Hualien
Shortly after four, we arrive at the hotel in Hualien. A wonderful but far too generous dinner awaits us in the restaurant. No less than ten dishes appear on the table – beef, duck breast, soup meat, seafood, fish, cabbage, tofu, chicken soup, water zoo soup, rice, and fruit. In short, you could feed a whole volleyball team with this spread. But we have to quickly surrender in the battle against the food – we’ve only just finished Lalan’s fish. This creates an awkward moment when the chef comes to check on us, and his sad gaze meets ours. However, the language barrier proves too great to clarify the misunderstanding.
Monday, April 8 | Hualien – Taroko National Park – Lushui Trail – Tianxiang
A high, dense cloud cover hangs over the country, but the sun seems to be making attempts to break through. We definitely need that, because today the Taroko Gorge is on the agenda, Taiwan's top attraction and one of the highlights of any visit to the island. In any other country, this would be a World Heritage site. But not in this country. Since Taiwan was kicked out of the United Nations in 1971, it can no longer lay claim to World Heritage sites. So they created their own concept of the Eight Wonders of Taiwan. The Taroko Gorge is one of them.
The marble couldn't withstand the curvature, resulting in a crack that formed the gorge
An 18-kilometre gorge carved into a marble rock wall – that’s Taroko in a nutshell. Millions of years ago, deep beneath the sea, coral was first transformed into limestone under immense pressure, and then, depending on local conditions, into marble, schist, or gneiss. Five million years ago, the collision between the Philippine and Eurasian plates occurred. Taiwan was uplifted, causing the surface to bulge slightly. The marble couldn't withstand this curvature, resulting in a crack that formed the gorge. From there, erosion of the softer layers by water and landslides began. Today, the Taroko National Park covers an area of 92 000 hectares (227 000 acres) with 27 peaks exceeding 3 000 meters in height.
Five large tour buses are getting ready to depart from the hotel. Undoubtedly, they also have the gorge on their itinerary. At 8:30, we set off – half an hour earlier than planned – so we will have enough time to explore parts of the gorge on foot.
Towering, densely forested mountains rise steeply above the river, their peaks shrouded in clouds
Taroko Gorge, Liwu River
About fifteen kilometres to the north, we encounter the Liwu River. Its wide, grey riverbed is mostly dry. A few small streams trickle towards the sea between the sandbanks. It's hard to believe that this river is almost solely responsible for the stunning inland scenery.
From the bridge over the Liwu, we observe the beginning of the gorge. Towering, densely forested mountains rise steeply above the river, their peaks shrouded in clouds. Only one road runs through the gorge, the Central Cross-Island Highway. Over a distance of 86 kilometres, it takes travellers from sea level to the 3 275-meter-high Wuling Pass. Along the way, you encounter just one village, Tianxiang, about halfway.
As cautious as always, Mister Pen drives us into the gorge. The narrow, well-paved road with one lane in each direction initially leads us through a deep but relatively wide V-shaped valley. Before long, we reach the Shrine of the Eternal Spring. With about five tour buses in the parking lot, we fear the worst, but the crowds turn out to be manageable.
Shrine of the Eternal Spring |
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Here, they honour the many workers who died during the construction of the road – a total of 225. The plaque goes into grim detail. We read that they fell into deep ravines, were struck by falling rocks, drowned in the river, were killed by flying debris during explosions, died in overturned trucks, were swept away by landslides, or simply slipped off the cliff edge. Many of them were former soldiers who, after fleeing the mainland and finding themselves without work, were deployed here by the Kuomintang.
Here, they honour the many workers who died during the construction of the road – a total of 225
Shrine of the Eternal Spring |
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The shrine clings to the base of a towering rock face, right above an eternal spring. It's no surprise that since its completion in 1957, it has had to be rebuilt twice after landslides – in 1979 and 1989. A path, partly carved into the rock wall and partly leading through man-sized tunnels, takes us to the very simple shrine. Back in the parking lot, the number of buses has grown to fifteen.
The road narrows further, clinging to the high cliffs like a razor-thin ledge
Taroko Gorge, Liwu River
The road narrows further, clinging to the high cliffs like a razor-thin ledge. Charles hands us safety helmets in preparation for the upcoming walk, as earthquakes and typhoons often loosen rocks, causing them to fall.
Charles hands us safety helmets, as earthquakes and typhoons often loosen rocks, causing them to fall
Taroko Gorge near the Swallow Grotto |
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The gorge narrows to its tightest point at the Swallow Grotto. This section gets its name from the many swallows that fly around and build their nests here.
Taroko Gorge, Liwu River |
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Brave cyclists |
Originally, the road twisted its way through half-open tunnels along the edge of the gorge in a hair-raising manner. The engineers must have deemed it too dangerous. They drilled a new tunnel for traffic, deeper into the mountainside. The abandoned section of the old road is now reserved for hikers.
Tunnel of the Nine Turns
Tunnel of the Nine Turns
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The rock face on the other side, over 600 m high, is so close that it feels like we can touch it
Tunnel of the Nine Turns |
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Helmets on and fascinated, we stroll through the chiaroscuro of the gorge, gazing down at the swirling waters below and studying the rock face on the opposite side – over 600 meters high, yet so close it feels as if we could reach out and touch it. The holes in the wall are partly caused by groundwater seeping through the cracks, and partly by the impact of boulders carried by the wild currents. In the first case, the holes are oriented downstream; in the second, upstream.
Earthquakes and heavy rains have dislodged too many rocks
Another such abandoned stretch is the Tunnel of Nine Turns, a 30-minute walking trail. Unfortunately, it's also closed to pedestrians, as earthquakes and heavy rains have dislodged too many rocks. Even safety helmets can't provide enough protection here. For a brief moment, the sun peeks through the clouds.
Helium – Cimu Bridge and Orchid Pavilion
At Heliu – meaning confluence – the Laosi River flows into the Liwu. It wasn’t until 1995 that the modern Cimu Bridge was built over this tributary. Two marble lions guard the bridge, while the small Orchid Pavilion crowns the scene. Yet another structure Chiang Kai-shek had built in honour of his mother.
Boulders lie like giant marbles in the dry bed of the Laosi, waiting for the next typhoon, which will push them further downstream.
In this transition area, the Liwu flows through a bed of marble and green schist, intersected by colourful quartz veins. The pressure from the ever-rising rock – still 4 to 6 mm per year – has folded the stone into a whimsical yet harmonious pattern of lines.
About a century ago, this path was part of the old Hehuan Road, which the Japanese had constructed through the mountains to better control the area
Lushui Trail
We won’t need helmets for our walk along the Lushui Trail, Charles reassures us. However, our flashlights will come in handy, as there's a small tunnel ahead. We should also keep an eye out for venomous snakes and wasps, as the signs warn. That advice quickly slips our minds when we spot hundreds of beautiful butterflies fluttering amidst the lush greenery. Taiwan truly lives up to its reputation as a butterfly paradise.
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Taiwan truly lives up to its reputation as a butterfly paradise
Camphor trees also grow along the path. These are recent plantings, as after the Japanese discovered that camphor could be used to make gunpowder, they initiated an inventory of Taiwan's camphor forests starting in 1918. Of the more than 1,8 million specimens, hardly any remained after just a few decades.
During the occupation, the Japanese had a tough time dealing with the indigenous people. On the fertile plains, it was somewhat manageable to keep the local population under control, but in the mountains, it was a different story. Artillery shelling and aerial bombardments proved ineffective. Ultimately, the Japanese resorted to a weapon against which the indigenous people had no defence – poison gas.
Lushui Trail – Taroko Gorge, Liwu River
The path runs parallel to the road but it’s several dozen meters higher. This provides some nice viewpoints, including the terraces of Lyushui, where narrow deposits of sediment and gravel reveal traces of human habitation. About a century ago, this path was part of the old Hehuan Road, which the Japanese had constructed through the mountains to better control the area. The path was just wide enough for two horses to pass each other at any point.
It’s almost half past twelve when we climb back aboard Mister Pen's van. Ten minutes later, we arrive at the hotel in Tianxiang, roughly halfway through the gorge and about 480 meters above sea level. We can’t check in yet, but Amson provides us with delicious ginger tea. For lunch, we turn to a local restaurant.
Baiyan Trail |
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Wahei’er |
No helmets, but umbrellas and flashlights – that's what we need for the walk along the Baiyan Trail. With the sun still making its way through the clouds, we feel fairly confident that we won't need those umbrellas after all.
Baiyan Trail – Wahei’er |
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Tachi Jili |
A perfectly straight tunnel, about 250 meters long – the first of a total of seven tunnels – leads us to the Wahei’er, which we follow downstream. Then we head upstream along the Tachi Jili. Rusty remnants at the bottom of the river suggest that there must have once been a metal bridge. Impressive collections of massive stones have accumulated against the slopes. At times, it seems that just a gust of wind could trigger an avalanche. The park management is aware of this – at some points, signs urge us not to linger.
At times, it seems that just a gust of wind could trigger an avalanche
Baiyan Trail – Baiyan Falls |
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After a three-quarters-of-an-hour walk, we come across the Baiyan Waterfalls. We aren’t particularly impressed by the falls, yet the surroundings remain very impressive.
Baiyan Trail – Water Curtain Cave
But it’s the Water Curtain Cave, another two tunnels ahead, that seems to offer the most spectacle for hikers. Even if it's just to walk through the tunnel where water drips from a leaky ceiling in the form of a curtain into the stream below – apparently, those umbrellas do come in handy after all.
At the confluence of the Wahei'er and Liwu rivers, Tianfeng Pagoda towers over Tianxiang
Tianxiang – Tianfeng Pagoda |
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Tianxiang |
It’s four o’clock when we check in at Silks Palace Hotel, nestled in the greenery at the confluence of the Wahei’er and the Liwu. We quickly climb up to the Tianfeng Pagoda, which overlooks Tianxiang from a high vantage point. It closes at five o’clock sharp. We make it inside just in time – and, more importantly, back outside. The view over the river, with the hotel and the bridge, is unparalleled.
Tianxiang – Silks Palace
The hotel makes the most of its beautiful natural setting – designed entirely in Japanese style, with architecture and interiors that exude a calming Zen atmosphere.
Tuesday, April 9 | Taroko NP – Shakadang Trail – Nanfang'ao – Taipei
Generously, the sun casts its rays down to the bottom of the gorge. This is once again promising, as we look forward to another vigorous hike, this time on a trail with a name that thunders by like a steam locomotive – the Shakadang Trail. We reserve three hours for the nine-kilometre round trip. Charles tries to unsettle us with rumours that the last section of the path is closed, but we choose to ignore that for now.
A handful of men on scooters are busy sweeping the road
Mister Pen will take us to the starting point of the hike, half an hour from the hotel. The asphalt road is empty and deserted, except for a small motorised crew. A handful of men on scooters are busy sweeping the road. Every night, small and large stones bounce down the slope, and every morning, these men are out with their brooms to clean the pavement. It's a labour-intensive way of working, but effective and essential. In Taroko Gorge, it's wise to stay constantly alert.
Shakadang Trail
Just before nine, we reach the bridge where the Shakadang River flows into the Liwu. A metal staircase leads us down alongside the bridge pillar. A sign warns us that beyond 5D Cabin the path is closed. So Charles was partly right after all.
The wide, well-maintained path follows the Shakadang upstream. It was originally constructed by the Japanese as a supply route for the construction of a hydroelectric power station on the river. Often, the path is carved into the rock face like a semi-open tunnel.
Shakadang Trail
In the trees, the crickets make their presence known. Below, the river water cascades crystal clear between giant boulders. The steep rock walls across the way showcase fascinating patterns left by geological deformations.
Shakadang Trail |
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The Taroko still use this path to transport goods and merchandise. Every so often, we cross paths with a local on a scooter. Traditionally, this area is home to the Taroko; only they are allowed to live in this nature reserve and run small farms – raising chickens, ducks, corn, and sweet potatoes.
One example of this is the tiny settlement of Wujianwu, where you can buy items from a few stalls. We don’t realise that this place is also called 5D Cabin and that the rest of the path is thus closed. We continue on briskly, with Charles hesitantly following behind us – apparently too apprehensive to say anything.
The steep rock walls across the way showcase fascinating patterns left by geological deformations
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Diploderma swinhonis |
Further along, they are conducting earthworks, partly with a bobcat and partly by hand. The walking becomes a bit more difficult, but not insurmountable. Nature continues to beckon us – the colourful butterflies and deep blue dragonflies, the crystal-clear to azure blue water, the fascinating geological patterns on the rocks, and the ever-surprising viewpoints.
Just before ten, we come across the somewhat dilapidated water dam that originally prompted the construction of this beautiful path. The structure clashes with the surrounding nature and blocks the migration and breeding of fish. However, there seems to be no willingness to dismantle this eyesore.
Betel nut palms |
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Fruits of the betel nut palm |
At a grove of betel nut palm trees we cannot help but notice that the construction work has disrupted the path to such an extent that we have to retrace our steps. Dazed, Charles realises that his smartphone has no signal here, meaning he cannot inform Mister Pen of our return. It’s nearly twelve-thirty when we reach his van and head back down towards the coast.
Shakadang
Soon we are driving above the azure blue waters of the Pacific Ocean – even under these dark grey clouds, the water near the shore still retains that colour. At the northern exit of the Chongde Tunnel, we are treated to a magnificent view of the cliffs of Qingshui.
Cliffs of Qingshui, Chongde Tunnel
Rising 200 to 1 000 meters above the sea, these cliffs mark the eastern end of the Central Mountain Range and are also the oldest rock formations in Taiwan. Around 250 million years ago, marine creatures began depositing calcium here, which eventually led to the formation of marble, gneiss, and green schist. A short distance off the coast, a few fishing boats are busy at work.
The asphalt strip winds along steep rock faces, as we dive into one tunnel after another
East coast close to the Huide Tunnel |
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Mister Pen gives us one last glimpse of the sea at the northern exit of the Huide Tunnel. Then we set our course for the capital, Taipei, this time through the rugged mountains, which worries Charles a little. Because on this route things can go wrong – even though this is the only crossing to Taipei. If the road were to be interrupted at any point, we would have no choice but to retrace our steps along the same path we took to get here – first heading to the far south and then north through the plains in the west, totalling about seven hundred kilometres. But Charles reassures us immediately. In that case, we would take the train while Mister Pen would undertake the odyssey with his van alone. Of course, this is all assuming that the train service isn't interrupted as well.
Huide Tunnel |
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The asphalt strip winds along steep rock faces, as we dive into one tunnel after another. An almost endless row of green mountain ridges crosses our path, with slopes that descend nearly straight to the sea. Where the surf dies on the black pebbles of the beach, a white line of foam marks the most recent sigh of the ocean.
The clouds are growing increasingly grey now, which doesn’t bode well. A double yellow line in the middle of the road leaves nothing to be desired in terms of clarity. Yet, there are fully insane drivers overtaking us at high speeds – even around the bends.
Because on this route things can go wrong – even though this is the only crossing to Taipei
Roadworks after a landslide |
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A massive landslide has dealt a heavy blow to the roadway. The devastation stretches two to three hundred meters long, a pale grey scar amidst the abundant green. It appears that the road has been completely washed away. However, the Taiwanese have been hard at work for some time now to repair the damage. Currently, traffic is possible on one lane.
The port town of Nanfang'ao was once an island, but the sea currents carried so much sand that you don't notice it anymore
Nanfang’ao
It's a quarter to two when we look down from an observation platform at the port town of Nanfang'ao. Once an island, the sea currents have deposited so much sand that you don't notice it today. On the black beach, just a breath away from the surf, a couple is having their wedding photos taken.
Having their wedding photos taken |
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Nanfang’ao |
Charles doesn’t hide his relief. He seems a bit rejuvenated now that we’ve made it through without any debris. We head down to a fish restaurant at the harbour – the best in Nanfang’ao, he emphasises. The fish soup is delicious, as are the clams and vegetables, but the dish made entirely of fish cartilage surprises us a bit – good for our knees, Charles insists, as we bite into the crispy morsels. He makes sure to raise a toast to our safe passage along the east coast. The dessert is surprisingly simple yet tasty – slices of tomato dusted with a layer of plum powder, a wonderful combination.
Nanfang’ao – Fish market |
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Barely have we started our final leg of the journey when it begins to rain without stopping. The tunnels keep coming one after the other. First up is the Snow Mountain Tunnel, which at 13 km is the longest tunnel in Taiwan. Six more follow, ranging in length from 250 m to 3,5 km. Finally, the outskirts of Taipei appear, with the sleek Taipei 101 prominently in view.
Jaak Palmans
© 2024 | Version 2024-10-23 14:00
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