Trekking in Taiwan

Our 125cc bike that we willed up to the summit
see all photos »

Taking on Taroko

Each breath of oxygen depleted air scorches at my lungs. Lorenzo is listless on the side of the foot path. His extremities are being eaten away by pins and needles. At 3400m above sea level, we struggle to exert any physical energy and our catch-your-breath stops have become steadily more frequent. We are down to only ten steps or so when my mountain buddy falls. Lying limp on the hiking trail, the shock to the system is too much. The mountain is getting the better of us.

Moon lit sea of clouds...

Tunnel of the 9 turns trek
see all photos »

Rewind one hour. After a crisp 5 am start, Lorenzo asks "Do you want to see the sunrise from the summit or go to the viewing platform where everyone else will be?" Of course, Flaneuse chooses the former, more obscure, challenging, and secluded option. The promise of a 360 degree panorama of dawn across Mount Huhuan, one of the mountains in a ridge formation that dissects Taiwan east to west, is far too tempting to simply take the sensible option and use the little time we have to take in the view from an altitude that our sea-level selves have had the chance to nearly get accustomed to during the night.

Dodgy bridges up the mountain, don't look down!
see all photos »

"To the top!" We set off without breakfast or water. The apex sits at just under 4000 metres. The side effects of such elevation on the body are clear. I recall arriving at Bilyu cafe yesterday afternoon which marks the two third point of the ascent to Huhuan. I slip off the back of our bike and skip a giddy little step on touching ground. A wave of peace settles on my body, calling me to drift into sleep, sleepy sleep, quiet mountain, hush, so quiet and peaceful until...."Anna, no sleeping No!" Lorenzo is used to the mountain's tricks and pulls me back to reality. It's like being hypnotised. The mountain calls you to sink into her mysteries, an unthinking space where the fickle friend of altitude fools the senses. I imagine sleep that night will be a hemisphere of tranquillity filled with vivid dreams.

Christmas bauble beetle
see all photos »

Having travelled all of the previous day, defying gravity on a 125cc motorbike with two passengers and bags along the route 8, one of the highest roads in the world, crossing the Taroko National park in east Taiwan to get to this point, we will not be defeated. The journey this far has been amazing. We have experienced the varying levels of altitude and observed their hugely different animals and vegetation. The entrance from Houlian through the Taroko Gate at low level around the Liwu river is lush, verdant, and surrounded by sheer, jagged marble cliffs and soft boulders streaked with pink, orange and white. Getting up to mid level, one is immersed in an Alpine forest with its own unique species of deer, monkey, butterflies, cicadas and fauna. The shift to higher ground means less trees, more sparse landscape, mint green mini bamboo plants everywhere and the opportunity to admire the clouds from above.

Just before sunset
see all photos »

Chugging up to the top, willing our motor to continue, rounding one hairpin turn we find ourselves surrounded in the most dreamy light show. Sunset is coming and we are inside the clouds. The very element of air seems to be alive with colour. On one side of the road is clear hard blue, and on the other side soft peachy pink. Like the very essence of human nature, hard and soft, yin and yang, male and female.

We travel through this and check in to a traditional hostel, the price includes both dinner and breakfast set to the suns's rise and fall. After taking in a stunning sunset, night falls quickly. At such an elevation, it feels like we are on a par with the moon. The lunar disc, full and glorious, shines down onto a sea of silver clouds. The shimmering light embalms us with stupefaction. I have never witnessed anything like this before. It's like being in a dream but you're awake.

Stairs at the Bilyu Cloud forest cafe
see all photos »

Awe is the sensation I feel as we roll out our tatami mats to bed down for the night. I say night, but its only 7pm. Up here, one lives with the sun, obeying her timetable without delay. I am hoping for a peaceful night filled with lucid dreams like those I experienced at other altitudes on hikes in China. No such luck. Shivering to the bone, I lie under my heavy blanket, clothed in everything I own, huffing and gasping for air that doesn't come, too cold to move, not tired for sleep, all I can do is think. Luckily, at the top of a mountain one feels, mind the pun, totally high. Reaching the top, where only the sounds of nature can be heard, there is a sense of mental clarity. Gone is the restless chatter of day. Nearer to the gods, there is room for enlightenment to enter through the elation of elevation. Traversing a mountain is a moving meditation. I rest on this thought until morning.

Sea of moonlit clouds
see all photos »

Ideally, one should spend at least 3 days up here to allow for the body to acclimatise and enable more physical exertion without ending up two listless blobs at dawn. However, my time here is short. We have a timetable to stick to and need to be back in Taipei for tomorrow afternoon when Lucie is performing in a shadow puppet show that I am looking forward to. Fast forward 6 hours.

We are dehydrated and unprepared. The other hikers in the hostel all seemed pretty hardcore and toughened to the elements. Lorenzo is my friend and local guide to these mountains. He has been kind, patient and knowledgeable in equal measure but now it is I who must take the lead. I offer him the few sips of water I have on me, try to assess the severity of his symptoms and am considering our options when he points a weary finger and cries "Look, look, it's coming!

Lovely waterfall
see all photos »

Enter the Queen of all fairies. Daylight seeps across the dark ridge and fills us with her silent magnificence. The sun is born of the mountain and brings new hope and energy in the beauty of dawn. Where once was darkness is now light and the colours of the scene change at every moment. We are both energised by the rebirth of day.

The descent after a breakfast of rice porridge, shredded dried meat, nuts and pickled radish leads us back down to the 'Cloud forest cafe' at Bilyu once more. When here yesterday, the forest area was covered in the afternoon clouds that rise from the sea, carrying the Pacific's moisture to pass us at 2140 metres on their sweeping way across the top of the ridge Now, at 8am, the scene is clear and bright. We can see for miles into the deep gorge and take a little walk through the sacred trees. Here, we Lorenzo points out to a small green creature sitting on a leaf, looking like a mini Christmas bauble. I would have walked past without noticing but he is a fan of all creatures and lifts it up for inspection. A beautiful beetle. I know that sounds like a contradiction in terms, but true nonetheless as you will see in the picture.

A little further down in the town of Tiang Siang, where most tourists would stop, I notice a statue. Lorenzo brakes into one of his wonderful David Attenborough moments, with breathy excitement “ Ah, this is a statue of the Australasian aborigines of this area. See how the man has a deer sloped around his shoulders. That is the Taiwanese samba deer. It is an example of how they celebrate their hunting culture. That's what the head was in the soup last night”. Oh yeah, about that.

After nearly freezing in the iridescent moonlight that sweeps in after sunset, we headed to hostel HQ for dinner. My hands were numb and unable to manipulate chopsticks, so proper food was out of the question for the moment. Here, soup is usually consumed at the end of the meal, but etiquette was a distant thought as my fingers were blue. I filled a bowl with the pale white liquid and sat sipping it for 5 minutes. It was working and the feeling was filtering back, so I went in for a second bowl. Digging around the bottom of the vast metal vat in search of the Japanese potato-like radish, I instead find a skeletal head looking back at me. The long snouted creature had its eyes missing and only small parts of flesh still clung to the crevices around the neck. It wasn't a pretty picture. It was Indiana Jones worthy, but I was far too cold and hungry to really care and appreciated the heat it provided.

Few words are needed in stunning environments like this. Lorenzo and I pass more rapidly down the mountain than we came up, sharing comments about the history and beauty of the place. I had become a lot more used to the curving and inclining towards the road required on a scooter. It has taken a full three days of clinging to my driver for dear life, snuggling in on tight bends to mould my body with his and go where he goes instead of following the natural urge to sit upright like a jack in the box, and jeopardise the aerodynamic movement. The white knuckle ride becomes more pleasant as I loosen my limbs and go with the flow. In fact, riding as a motorcycle passenger has been a great lesson in surrender. Surrender to the driver's capacity to keep us safe, surrender to the elements, surrendering to one's fate. If today is my day to die, then twisting my stomach into knots of anxiety will not change a thing. Allowing oneself to relinquish personal control of the situation is a useful tool, especially when travelling and facing situations with less structure or 'normality'. I am pleased about this and then, God help us all, it is my turn to drive.

The last two experiences with me driving a motor bike have both resulted in accidents. Small ones admittedly, but a fact. The last time I rode, and my most recent accident was on the Italian island of Elba where I was for my 21^st birthday. Far from dramatic, I was taking a sharp steep bend too slowly the bike and I fell, rather unspectacularly, on my side. A bruise marked the occasion. However, I have never had a passenger to worry about, will this change things?

Lorenzo gives me a brief introduction and I tentatively swivel the accelerator into action. Smiling, he asks “Are you ready for your third accident?” and we set off. After a full five minutes of whooping and yelping at the sheer excitement of riding a bike, I realise that we are still alive. Pretty good going so far. Whizzing along Taiwan's route 8, I feel a sense of liberation and Lorenzo seems relaxed enough as I demonstrate a sense of road awareness, though a few “whoa whoas” are needed to calm my more bolshy maresque moves. I am aware of the fact that I carry our lives in my hands and realise how hard one has to concentrate whilst driving up a mountain. I am glad to give Lorenzo a break and allow him to take in the view as I have been able to for most of the trip. However, at the next stop, we both agree that my cautious taking of bends – think paper plane wafting round instead of fighter jet – mean we are losing time, better get a move on.

Back as a passenger, I enjoy the breathtaking views of Taroko national park, waterfalls, birds, gorges, cloud formations, light beams, indigenous people and plants. The last leg of our trip takes us back into warmer climes, from 0 to 25 degrees in four hours, and I am painfully aware that there is much more to see, that I must come back for. The journey was arduous and perilous in parts but absolutely worth it to experience the amazing natural phenomenon, animals and ecosystems unique to this part of the world. I was extremely luck to have a friend who is so interested, learned and keen to share his enthusiasm for the creatures and culture so different to his own.

Lucie and Lorenzo have been the most wonderful, kind and considerate hosts here in Taipei. I am very grateful to them both for their generosity during my week in Taiwan. Who could have thought, working together as ushers at the Royal Opera House all those years ago, that we would find ourselves on jaunts around this wet, tropical Asian island so many years later! I marvel at the wonderful world that we live in and assure them that friends such as they will always, always be welcome wherever I am.

At my leaving lunch, Lucie casually remarks “So this year of travel is for you to explore your passions - nature, dance and massage?” What a wonderful summary I think, “Yes!”

For all of you reading this blog, I URGE you to consider Taiwan as a travel destination – even as an addition to another Asia bound trip. An hour and a half from Hong Kong lies a world of natural adventure, cultural discovery and fantastic people, food and shopping. The Taiwanese are a more developed a nation than their Chinese cousins, louder and more expressive too. “The Italians of Asia” as Lucie puts it.

That's all for now. Next stop Thailand.