Monday, 18 February 2008

Chinese New Year Break

The beginning of a new lunar year is the biggest holiday on the Taiwanese / Chinese calendar. It’s Christmas, Ramadan and New Year’s all rolled into one.

More importantly, its six days paid vacation – Wednesday February 6 to Monday the 11th.

We could have stayed in town and had a cultural experience joining the locals for a family dinner, exchanging red envelopes (filled with cash) and lighting firecrackers to scare away the “Nien” (year) monster; but instead we decided to head out of town and get back to nature.

As much as I love the vibrancy of the city, I miss the trees, fresh air and stars. So we loaded up the car after work on Tuesday night and hit the road under the cover of darkness to avoid the reportedly torrential traffic.

We were meeting up with L & N on Wednesday, who were already on holiday, relaxing on Green Island. So we thought we might get half way there and camp overnight at Shuanglio National Forest Recreation Area which lay on the winding, mountainous Highway 9 that linked the east and west of the Island.

When we arrived however the park locked and barred. Bastards!

Keep going or sleep in the car next to the busy road.

Keep going

The roads became more treacherous. Narrow passes with slow moving trucks, insane overtaking and our headlights left a lot to be desired.

We turned off onto the county road to Muden and pulled up.

Relaxing on the bonnet with a glass of red, we looked up at endless stars like dandruff on a black velvet jacket.

The red made the sleep in the back of the 1989 Rover Montego (aka Monte) a bit easier.

Wednesday

Surprisingly refreshed we woke and hit the road at eight.

The road descended from the mountains and headed north along the some rugged coast line next to turgid azure seas.

We arrived at Taitung where the ferries from Green Island get in and picked up L&N who regaled us with stories from the spit of volcanic land jutting out of the ocean where they’d spent the last week.

After lunch in town and a convoluted shopping expedition, we headed back down Highway 9 to the small hot spring town of Jhihben.

With a little help from the locals and out newly acquired piece of Chinese vocabulary “Lu-ing” (camping) we managed to find a good spot with a fire pit, concrete tent slabs and our own hot spring pool.



Notes on Taiwanese Camping

I’ve found that it’s not a common idea outside Western countries – the desire to go and sleep under canvas on cold ground with no TV or toilet facilities. In Taiwan it’s just cheap accommodation. When you do find a camp ground it usually has a toilet/shower block, a cafe/restaurant attached and some hard flat surface on which to put your tent.

We were the only people there. Our host kindly provided a stack of wood for the fire and would often pass by on his scooter intrigued by our cooking and drinking skills.

Taiwan Camping Fire Pit

The evening was spent in the sulphurous waters of the hot springs, where keeping your fluids up is recommended, which we managed to do, mainly with vodka and black label whiskey. The half bottle of Kaoliang (50% rice spirit) remained untouched at the bottom of the kitchen box.

Thursday

Wake, bake, breakfast, dry tents

Walk to the National Forest Recreation Area

Notes on Taiwanese National Forest Recreation Areas

Where I’m from, a National Park is somewhere nature is preserved. Here it is for nature to be tamed and to provide an area for families to come on weekends, relax and observe nature in the same way a security guard might observe a CCTV monitor – from the safety of a comfortable place far from anywhere danger may occur.


Shhh... Don't scare the deer!

So we wandered around the manicured gardens, along well laid concrete paths, down a wooden walkway to observe the waterfall and stopped at the hot spring pond to soak our tired feet (having walked a whole kilometre from our camp-site).


L&N having a soak in the hot springs

We were even granted an audience with a few local macaques who were observing us with a lot less interest than we were observing them. We didn’t manage to see the “restrictive games” however.


Restricted Games!

The game of "bestriding" is the standard action of the adult monkeys mating. Minority little monkeys also make rehearsals. Perhaps they are imitation or playing for fun, which is often seen in their daily life.


We stopped in town on our walk back for a hearty local lunch and some fireworks shopping.

We decided to head north with haste so we could make an early start on Hualien and the highlight of the trip - Toroko Gorge.

We crossed the Tropic of Capricorn and immediately noted a downturn in temperature.

There was a town noted in the guide book that boasted both camping and hot springs. The hope was to find another gem like the one we had just left.

Following the signs from the main road, we found a number of flash hotels brightly lit in the dim twilight – not what we were looking for. We asked for directions:

“Just down there.”

“Excellent!”

“Oh tents”

We sent L off to investigate.

Someone’s family gathering – bugger

More directions:

“Over the main road to the train station and turn right.”

Off we go.

More directions:

“You go down there, turn left, see a police station and fuck off.”

“Sorry?”

“Yep just down there and fuck off.”

“Ok.”

Off we fucked.

At the 7-11 opposite the police station, more directions:

“Oh it’s about five minutes down the road; just follow me on my scooter.”

“Sweet”

We kept our distance.

I was having a waking nightmare about running her over.

Here it is... whoops of joy and delight!

We pull up next to a huge white concrete head which fronted a huge white concrete undercover area. Huge tents housed whole families under fluorescent lights where they cooked their noodles at marble counters.

We secured accommodation on small raised wooden platforms with steep A-frame roofs and power outlets. What was more exciting was the prospect of hot showers, dinner, scotch, fireworks and cards in the tent.

Friday

Up in Hualien we met up with Matt from Xpat mag. With some local connections we found ourselves seated in a flash little bistro off the main drag. Here we met Ryan who puts out a monthly magazine on the east coast called Highway 11. After a cheesy lunch and some networking we were off to the market for supplies.

To say the road to Toroko Gorge is steep, narrow and winding is an understatement. The track doesn’t just hug the mountain; it has full penetrative intercourse, slipping its length through tight, damp crevices carved into the rock.



Here I should insert some waxing lyrical about the impressive nature of the landscape – the towering mountains jutting into the clouds with the raging river below, the lush green vegetation and impressive rock formations but instead I’ll let the pictures do the talking.



Despite some crazy driving we arrived in one piece at Tiansiang. It’s at the heart of the gorge not far from more fabled hot springs which the river naturally carved from the rock.

After more detailed and incomprehensible directions, we stumbled across a true camping jewel: grassy tent areas, tables, benches, mountains views, overlooking a river (sealed off by a guard rail for your protection), a cafe next door with non-squat toilets and a fire pit. Luxury



We set up camp and had a couple of pre hot spring drinks, grabbed the bathers and headed up to town. On our arrival we were informed that the mythical hot springs had been demolished by a rock fall. Our disappointment was insurmountable, especially in the freakishly cold conditions.

Instead we stocked up on booze and takeaway to take back to camp where we sat by a dismal excuse for a fire before retiring to the self-generated warmth of the tent for a few rounds of (Extremely) Crazy Eights.

Saturday

Another hearty breakfast and off to the walking tracks.

We decided on the waterfall curtain walk which is about three k’s each way. Once again the pictures tell the story better than I can.




A bottle of Whizbee was purchased to keep the energy up and toward the end of the track we stopped for photos and beetle nut chewing.

On the way back a rather manky monkey sat by the side of the track to watch its cousins traipse past.

Greasy noodles were bought for a large late lunch and a couple of bottles of Chinese wine for the evening, before leaving Matt to the perils of the bus and returning to camp for to hunt for firewood and a siesta.

That night we were the envy of the campground with our roaring cave man fire... Ha ha barbarian make flame now!!

Notes on Chinese Wine

It’s not.

The wine was consumed despite refined viticultural sensibilities, followed by the Sang Som Pi Si had brought from Thailand but the line was drawn at the Kaoliang, which remained at the bottom of the food box.

Sunday

It was decided to head back to K-town with a brief stop at Sun Moon Lake so we could have a day of recovery before returning to work.

Now there are three ways we could get back:

1. Head all the way back the way we came,

2. Head all the way across the top of the island through Taipei and then back down, or

3. take the cross Island Highway 8 which is the fastest and our preferred route

Heading off we found we noticed the fuel gauge – redlining. Bugger - There was no going back. Town after town we found not a hint of petrol. My only hope was that we would run out on the other side of the mountain and be able to roll back to civilization.

It wasn’t to be, the road just went up and up and up. Clumps of snow began to make appearances by the sides of the road. It was a sign.

It was looking grim until we rounded one corner and there, like a shining oasis in the desert of mountains, lay... a CPC gas station.

“Fill ‘er up.”

We feasted on (Taiwan’s worst) tea eggs and noodle soup.

Cars coming the other way featured lumps of snow on their bonnets shaped to resemble snow men.

Another sign

We continued stopping occasionally to marvel at the snow capped peaks.

The road continued to rise.

When we reached the turn off for the cross island highway we were confronted with a road sign blocking our entrance. There were pictures of snow chains and other ominous signs. Asking the locals:

“Ah, steep, winding roads, very dangerous!”

“Bah, humbug – there’s no going back now.”

We forged ahead.

The road went up and up and up. Now the snow was gaining a monopoly of the road sides.

Soon we found a convoy of cars parked by the side of the road next to an information booth and a copper guarding a road block – we drove up to him. He took one look at Monte and waved us into the car park.

At the information centre we were informed that we needed snow chains to continue. They cost 3 000NT and they would fit them for 300. The nice lady even made us up a little sign:


I want buy snow chains

We pooled our funds and found we had a total of 1900 in notes and change. Strangely enough there weren’t any ATMs for miles. There was no going back however.

We dispatched the ladies to solicit the requisite hardware while I decided it was time to dig out some socks.

The snow chain merchants were not having a bar of it. There was bargaining, there were pleas for mercy – it took some time.

Eventually some nice chaps sold us their snow chains for all the money we had on us. They were even good enough to fit them for us, as even the Canadians in our party, had never seen them before.

We were off.

Monte didn’t like the new footwear.

It was like driving over the worst corrugated road, but we made it through the road block.

We stopped about 100m up the hill to check if they were fitted properly.

All seemed in order

It was a high rev hill start which sent sparks and road flying.

The engine complained and only moved less than walking place up the hill.

Everyone out

We made it another couple of hundred metres before it gave up on the next hill.

Like your chain smoking author here – the car was having trouble breathing.

We were stumped.

Luckily, a 4x4 transit van coming the other way pulled up beside us.

A woolly hat clad, beetle nut chewing pixie jumped down and looked at Monte.

He opened the bonnet and pulled out the air filter. Good thinking.

We powered up the hill with our new air-rich engine once again throwing road behind us.

There was not a speck of snow on the road and wondered why we bothered with these stupid chains that cost us our last brazoo.

We decided to keep them on just in case.

Good move in the end.

Soon the road was covered in ice and snow as it seemed to be frozen to the side of the mountain.

Steering around less cautious drivers was not helped by the snow nor the chains.

Eventually we came to one stretch of steep hill that Monte just refused to go up.

By the side of the road a family of Mongolian trolls stood and watched our efforts with contempt as, run after run, Monte slid back down.

After a while the moustachioed head troll came over and offered to pull us over the peak.

Very accommodating

2 000

Get fucked

Now there really was no going forward

and no going back

We kept trying.

Others were having the same problem.

Newer and better equipped cars than ours, were sliding around on the slope.

Four wheel drives that had never seen more action than the speed bumps of Taipei were struggling.

It would have been funny if we weren’t facing hyperthermia.

L continued to push up. One of the chains broke.

I walked ahead to do some reconnaissance.

The road went up and up and up.

There were cars abandoned and even a scooter frozen into the snow.

This did not look good.


Heading back down, looking into the fog I heard a sound.

A familiar sound

That was Monte’s 1.6 litre engine all right.

The mists parted and through came a 4x4 transit with Monte in tow.

They pulled up beside me and I jumped in.

“How did you swing this?”

“He said he’d do it for 1000 on the credit card.”

“Say what?”

Regardless we were off up the hill.

By the time we made it over the top we had bargained him down even further.

He agreed to accept our half bottle of Kaoliang as payment.

After unhooking the car he grabbed the bottle, jumped back in his cab and headed back off up the mountain to fleece some more flat-land folk.

Amazing!


Down the hill we went. Soon we stopped and took off the chains which remain to this day in the boot of the car as a souvenir of the trip.

The rest of the story is pretty mundane:

Breaks smoking as we went down the hill

Stopping for supplies and the car refusing to start

Locals helping us find a mechanic

Two hours stop to have the alternator replaced

A high speed drive down the ultra-modern expressway

Then back to the now chilly metropolis of Kaohsiung

A great trip all in all. What’s a holiday without a few trials, tribulations and a couple of near death experiences?

Not much of a trip if you ask me.


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