Watch Your Head. Watch Your Feet. Ya.
On the morning I was supposed to be leaving Taipei, I decided it would be a brilliant idea to do some laundry. I was catching a train to Hualien, a city on Taiwan's east coast, and figured I'd get everything washed, dried, folded and packed before checking out.
Easy peasy.
Just down the hallway from my room was a little laundry room with one washing machine and one dryer. Perfect. That's all I needed.
It was still early... around 7 am... and there was a rather large sign stating that the machines weren't to be used until 9 am... but that was a little bit too inconvenient for me. There was also an awful lot of Chinese writing on the sign... which I couldn't understand... so I decided to throw caution to the wind and plead complete ignorance if anyone pressed me on the subject.
What sign?
I didn't see a sign.
And into the washing machine went my dirty, stinky clothes.
I LOVE it when hotels have coin-operated laundry facilities. It's liberating. Paying for hotel laundry services can lead to financial ruin... and trying to find a laundromat in a foreign city can sometimes feel like an elaborate treasure hunt of failure.
So this was beyond fabulous.
I'd have everything washed, dried, folded and packed by 9 am. Check out, catch my train, and off to Hualien. Well... it didn't quite work out like that.
When I returned to the laundry room to transfer my clothes from the washer to the dryer, I noticed something rather alarming. Something I hadn't noticed before. Something I SHOULD have noticed before. The dryer door was completely taped shut. Enough tape to make it physically impossible to open the damn door.
Shit.
What was going on?
Then I noticed another sign. Most of it was written in Chinese, with some rather questionable, poorly written English, but one word stood out loud and clear.
MALFUNCTION.
Double shit.
Well, there goes that brilliant plan.
Streets of Taipei Streets of Taipei Streets of Taipei
So there I was, back in my hotel room, with wet clothes draped over practically every available surface. Shirts hanging from furniture, underwear scattered about, socks dangling wherever I could find somewhere to put them. I'd turned the air conditioner up to full-blast heat, desperate to dry them within a couple of hours.
And then it occurred to me...
Hadn't this ALL JUST happened to me?
It had.
Wet clothes. No dryer. Heat blasting. A hotel room resembling a particularly chaotic laundromat.
Yep.
Different circumstances.
Same ridiculous predicament.
I was developing a bit of a talent for this.
I was on a roll.
Unfortunately, by the time checkout rolled around, my clothes were still damp. Every. Single. Item. There's nothing quite like starting your day with a damp outfit.
Ya...
I stuffed everything into my suitcase... convincing myself that I'd sort it all out when I got to Hualien.
My life is hard.
So... what do you do when life gets hard?
You get a foot massage.
Obviously.
How can you not? They're so cheap that it's practically a waste of money to NOT get one. Back home, I'd have to practically remortgage my house for the same treatment. After spending hours wandering around unfamiliar cities, pounding the pavement and generally exhausting myself, I can quite easily justify a foot massage as both a physical AND emotional necessity.
At least, that's what I tell myself.
Anyway...
Next stop... Hualien! Off to Taiwan's east coast.
I caught the train from Taipei and slept through practically the entire journey. Again. Believe me... I never sleep on trains, planes, or in automobiles. I honestly don't know what's happening to me lately. I'm just so bloody exhausted all the time.
All I have to do is sit down, close my eyes... and I'm out.
Perhaps I'm low on vitamin B12.
Perhaps I'm simply getting old.
No idea.
When I arrived in Hualien, I quickly figured out where my hotel was and discovered it was only about a 35-minute walk from the train station.
Doable.
Considering I'd just spent the entire train journey unconscious... I figured a little fresh air and exercise wouldn't hurt. As it turned out, the walk was rather fascinating. The entire street seemed to be preparing for some sort of enormous celebration. Vehicles were decorated in bright, elaborate colours... children were banging away on drums... and there were people dressed as some of the most terrifying creatures I'd ever seen.
I'm talking enormous heads, bulging eyes, gigantic teeth and facial expressions that looked as though they belonged in a disturbing nightmare.
One minute I was casually walking down the street... dragging my suitcase behind me, and the next... BOOM!
Creepy giant demons everywhere!
Hualien, Taiwan Hualien, Taiwan Hualien, Taiwan
As it turned out, I'd stumbled upon some kind of traditional Taiwanese temple procession. These intimidating-looking figures are often known as Ba Jia Jiang. They're spiritual guardians whose job is to drive away evil spirits, protect the community and maintain order. Funny that... considering they look like the very demons I would be running away from.
Apparently...frightening the absolute crap out of everyone is a perfectly reasonable way to keep evil at bay.
Hmmmm...
I wasn't entirely convinced.
My accommodation was absolutely adorable.
It was a little three-storey building standing on its own... called Cheese Bon.
Cheese Bon.
No idea why.
Half English. Half French. Good cheese.
I didn't see any cheese. There was certainly no obvious connection to cheese at the hotel. None that I noticed anyway.
It was charming, quirky and just the sort of little place I love finding when I'm travelling.
There was... however... one rather unfortunate drawback...
The hotel was located on a fairly touristy street... and somewhere nearby was a girl with quite possibly the most irritating, high-pitched, screeching voice I have ever had the misfortune of hearing.
And she had a microphone...
And she had speakers...
VERY LOUD speakers.
I arrived around 1:30 pm, and she was already going strong, enthusiastically screeching away at full volume. No idea what she was on about.
Surely she'd stop soon?
No? Nope...
Perhaps she was just doing a little afternoon performance?
Nope.
Perhaps she'd eventually lose her voice?
Nope.
She carried on until 11 PM...
I kid you not. I was not a happy Jo.
Taiwan road grates Taiwan road grates Taiwan road grates
NINE AND A HALF HOURS of booming, crackling, high-pitched microphone speaker torture.
I have absolutely no idea what she was saying, singing, selling or announcing... but whatever it was, she certainly wanted the entire city of Hualien to know about it.
It was dreadful.
Once I'd checked in and settled into my adorable little room, I unpacked my suitcase and began hanging up all my damp clothes.
Yep.
Those bloody wet clothes.
Well, they were still damp... and my charming little hotel room was now doubling as yet another makeshift laundromat. Honestly, I was becoming quite the expert at this. With my underwear hanging out to dry... and the screeching speaker showing absolutely no signs of surrender, I decided there was only one sensible thing to do.
Leave.
And that's what I did... I headed out to explore Hualien.
I had an early night... despite the shrieking lady outside... because I had an early morning tour booked for the following day.
Yes. Another tour.
Because apparently, despite being permanently exhausted, having a suitcase full of damp laundry, and generally despising group tours, I still hadn't quite mastered the art of simply sitting still and relaxing.
But there was a whole new part of Taiwan to explore. Beyond the cities.
And off I went...
A day tour seemed like the perfect way to explore the spectacular Qingshui Cliffs, Taiwan's dramatic eastern coastline along the Pacific Ocean, and the magnificent Taroko Gorge... without having to figure out how to get everywhere on my own.
And... more importantly...
It was a small-group tour.
It was not one of those enormous, invasive bus tours that I somehow seem to end up on far more often than I'd like. You know the ones. Seventy-five people piling off a bus, all taking exactly the same photograph, before being herded back on again like a flock of confused sheep. Barely enough time to appreciate where you are.
No. This was a smaller, more intimate experience.
Perfect.
Or so I thought.
Enter Allan.
Allan was our tour guide.
And Allan LOVED to hear himself speak.
Now... I don't want to be mean about Allan. He was clearly enthusiastic about his job, eager to share his knowledge, and determined to make sure we were all thoroughly informed about everything.
And I mean EVERYTHING.
The problem was that his English wasn’t particularly strong... and he seemed to have a handful of favourite words and phrases that he was determined to use as often as humanly possible.
“World War II" and “Pacific Ocean” were two of them. Also... "tunnel."
"Tunnel" was the most interesting one.
For the first hour of the tour, I had absolutely no idea what Allan was talking about whenever he used this particular word.
To my ears, he wasn’t saying “tunnel.”
He was saying “turtle.”
Ok... I realize they are very different words, but that's just how it sounded to me. I also realize I might be the idiot in this scenario, considering we passed through a lot of tunnels in Taroko Gorge... and saw zero turtles all day.
Like I say... my life is hard.
But my favourite Allan-ism was the way he ended every single sentence with “yeah” or “yep.”
And not just a casual little “yeah” thrown into conversation.
Oh no.
He would finish a sentence, and then with no pause at all... say in an entirely different tone of voice…
“Yeah.”
Or "yep."
It was almost as though he was conducting a radio interview with himself. Allan would make a statement... and then iummediately, some imaginary second person would enthusiastically agree with him.
Once I noticed it, I couldn’t stop hearing it.
Every. Single. Sentence.
It was like having two tour guides for the price of one. Allan, and Allan’s imaginary co-host, who apparently agreed with absolutely everything Allan had to say.
He also had his own safety announcements. Every single time we got into or out of the van, without fail, Allan would announce:
“Mind your head. Mind your feet. Yep.”
Every time.
Not occasionally.
Not just when there was something particularly dangerous to watch out for.
EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
But his biggest obsession was toilets.
This man was absolutely determined that none of us would ever be caught unaware of the location of the nearest toilet. We’d stop somewhere... he’d point out the toilets... we’d all have an opportunity to use them... and then we’d get back into the van.
Done?
No.
Within minutes of driving away, Allan would be informing us how long it would be until the next toilet.
“Next stop, fiftenn minutes. Toilet there. Yeah.”
Thank you, Allan.
Toilet logistics were a very serious business, and Allan was not about to let any of us down.
The rock climbing route at Tianxiang The rock climbing route at Tianxiang The rock climbing route at Tianxiang
So apparently, the road through Taroko Gorge is only open at certain times throughout the day, largely because of the ongoing risk of rockfalls and landslides. Crews have to regularly clear away the rubble, check for damage, and make sure the road is safe enough for vehicles to pass through.
Well... that's reassuring.
I mean, just think about that for a moment.
So many rocks tumble down these mountains that they have to close the road periodically to clean up the mess. And here we were, happily preparing to drive right through the middle of it all.
Eeeekkkk...
Allan was more than happy to enlighten us on past landslides and rockfalls. He had loads of old photographs on his phone of entire sections of road buried beneath enormous piles of rubble. In some places, the destruction had been so extensive that engineers had to build entirely new sections of road, including tunnels, just to get around it.
During recent roadwork, an enormous yellow bulldozer somehow tumbled down the mountainside, crashing onto the gorge rocks far below.
It's still there.
One of our first stops in the gorge was Tianxiang, a small mountain settlement tucked away in the heart of Taroko National Park. Surrounded by dramatic marble cliffs, lush green mountains, and the Liwu River winding through the valley below... it's an absolutely spectacular little place... and there were hiking trails. We were given two options.
The lower route was described as an easy, leisurely stroll through lovely wooded surroundings. Nothing too strenuous. Just a pleasant little wander, enjoying the scenery and perhaps spotting a monkey or two.
Damn monkeys...
The higher route promised a little more adventure.
Rock climbing.
Well... sort of.
It was the Tabiduo Trail, a more challenging hillside walk that involved scrambling over rocks and using chains to help navigate some of the steeper sections. Apparently, it was suitable for people with moderate fitness.
Well, I'm moderate.
I think I'm moderate. Maybe...
I figured I'd give it a go... and up we went.
Now... I'm certainly no rock climber, but to be fair, it wasn't exactly scaling Everest. There were chains secured along some of the rocky sections to help us pull ourselves up, so it wasn't quite as extreme as I'd initially imagined.
But regardless... I was a moderate fitness rock climber now... and I was ready for whatever came next. Which, according to Allan... was lunch.
Now, throughout the morning, Allan had repeatedly assured us that he was keeping an "eye out" for somewhere nice and hygienic for us to eat.
Hygienic?
He was apparently very concerned about finding us a suitable establishment where we could enjoy a safe and delicious meal.
Which was very thoughtful of him.
Except...
Come on, Allan.
You're a tour guide.
You take tourists along this exact same route all the time.
Are we really supposed to believe you're driving around the Taiwanese countryside every day, desperately searching for a new and hygienic restaurant? I wasn't buying it.
Sure enough, he sent us all a menu, complete with prices, and instructed everyone to choose what they wanted. He would then place our orders and reserve a table for the group. There was one vegetarian option on the menu, but to be honest, I wasn't particularly hungry. After the hike, the heat, and the humidity... the last thing I fancied was sitting down to an enormous meal in the middle of the day.
There was one other little detail about our small-group tour that I hadn't quite anticipated.
Everyone was German. Well, almost everyone. There was a couple from Switzerland who spoke German, two German guys travelling together, and a German girl travelling solo.
And then there was me.
Joanna. Non-German.
Six of us in total, and I was the only one who didn't speak a word of German. Naturally, everyone chatted away quite happily in German throughout the van ride, laughing, exchanging stories, and having what appeared to be thoroughly entertaining conversations.
About what?
Absolutely no idea.
Some of my favourite signs, Taiwan Some of my favourite signs, Taiwan Some of my favourite signs, Taiwan
I couldn't have contributed to the conversation even if I'd desperately wanted to. So I figured I'd just spend the day being that quiet, mysterious woman in the back of the van. You know... the intriguing solo traveller who gazes thoughtfully out the window, occasionally smiles politely, and keeps her fascinating life story to herself.
Very mysterious.
Very sophisticated.
Very... me.
Right?
But... as the day progressed... despite the language barrier, we all started getting along well. I think we had Allan to thank for that. After spending hours together listening to his endless commentary, his favourite words used incessantly, his enthusiastic announcements about toilet locations, and his constant need to confirm that we understood everything he said, we gradually developed our own collection of inside jokes.
So much for my mysterious, silent persona.
That lasted about five minutes.
Possibly less.
The German girl, Zuzan, became my friend for the day. We bonded over rock climbing.
I really liked Taroko Gorge. Actually, I was quite fascinated by the whole place. At one point, one of the girls on the tour asked me whether I found the scenery a little boring, considering I live in the Canadian Rockies, surrounded by mountains that are arguably even more spectacular.
Boring?
Wait. Wow. Pardon me?
I had honestly never thought about it that way before.
And I sincerely hope I never do.
Imagine travelling halfway around the world, standing in the middle of some extraordinary landscape... and thinking, "Meh. We've got bigger mountains at home."
What a dreadful way to experience the world.
Besides, how could I possibly compare the two?
Yes... I live in the Canadian Rockies, and yes, they're magnificent. I'm incredibly fortunate to call them home. But the mountains here in Taiwan were something else entirely. They were so different. So green. So dense. So wonderfully wild and jungle-like. The vegetation clings to every possible surface, covering the mountainsides in thick, lush greenery. Even the shape of the mountains is different. Unlike the jagged, rugged peaks I'm used to back home, these seemed to rise almost vertically out of the valley... steep, narrow ridges, enormous rounded formations...
Different.
I don't even know how to describe them properly.
They are just... extraordinary.
It is nothing like Canada.
We also hiked up to see Sakul Waterfall, a lovely little waterfall on the outskirts of Hualien City. A peaceful little escape into nature before heading off to our final stop of the day.
Hualien Gangtian Temple.
Now, this was quite something. Gangtian Temple is a Taoist temple known for its incredibly elaborate decorations, colourful architecture, and traditional religious ceremonies.
And when I say colourful, I mean COLOURFUL.
There were dragons, tigers, intricate carvings, ornate rooftops, and enough bright colours and decorations to keep your eyes darting in every possible direction. Allan, naturally, had plenty to tell us about the temple's customs and traditions. Apparently, odd numbers hold particular significance here. And there was also a specific way we were supposed to enter and leave the temple.
Enter through the right. The Dragon.
Exit through the left. The Tiger.
Simple enough.
Except Allan also explained something about the right side being for believers and the left side for non-believers. Oh...
Well... now he'd gone and complicated things. Suddenly, I found myself having a rather unexpected religious and philosophical debate with myself.
Was I a believer?
I mean, I'd like to think I could embrace Buddhism or Taoism. Both religions have philosophies and teachings that I find quite appealing. If I actually knew more about them, that is. But could I honestly call myself a believer???? Not really.
And it felt a little hypocritical to march confidently through the believers' entrance when I couldn't even explain half the beliefs I was supposedly embracing.
On the other hand... entering through the non-believers' side felt equally wrong. Almost as though I was dismissing the religion altogether. Which I certainly wasn't.
Hualien Gangtian Temple Hualien Gangtian Temple Hualien Gangtian Temple
Good grief.
All I wanted to do was walk into a temple. Eventually, after far too much internal deliberation over which entrance was the most spiritually appropriate, I decided to put an end to the nonsense. I walked in through the right. The Dragon.
Fine. I'll be a believer.
At least for the afternoon.
The temple really was quite extraordinary to look at, with all its elaborate details, larger-than-life decorations, and almost overwhelming explosion of colour. Although, I have to admit... from the outside, it looked a little less like a traditional place of worship and a little more like Castle Fun Park.
I did decide to make a wish while I was inside the temple, lighting a stick of incense and sending my little wish out into the universe.
Will it come true? Who knows.
But I figured it couldn't hurt to try.
A little hope, a little incense... and perhaps a little divine intervention.
We'll see.
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