Taiwan's west coast

Sad but true: This blogpost was literally ten minutes from being finalized and published when it vanished into thin air four days ago. Thus are the perils of working with a Kindle tablet, a bluetooth keyboard, and a smartphone as a hotspot. I cussed for about a minute and then said, OK, we'll go at it again. And now I finally do. Here's a pic of my first office of the night, a local eatery:

Much has happened since I wrote the last update to my life blog, which seems to be more of a travel blog. I have now completed ten days of traveling by bike around the beautiful island of Taiwan, and I have another four ahead of me. When I started Sunday a week ago in Taoyuan, outside of Taipei, I had no idea that I would enjoy this trip as much as I have been. Every day seems to bring new sights and experiences, and every day I pinch myself so I won't forget how privileged I am to see all of this.

It took me six days to ride the trusty Ritchey Outback down the west coast of Taiwan, the side that is more industrialized and urbanized than the east coast. Now that I have been to the very southernmost point of the island and have ridden close to two hundred miles back north, I'd like to venture this statement: The two sides are like unequal twins, different yet part of the same family, each beautiful in its own right yet both so different. Think of the yin and yang. Actually, this is rather apropos being in eastern territory, coming to think of it.

In the following, I will try to put down a few impressions from my first week of cycling in Taiwan; the photos are in total random order since Adding them via a smartphone is extremely time consuming and led to disaster last time around. Similarly, there won't be any captions. I won't try to recreate what I had written over the course of several evenings and what eventually disappeared. Maybe the extra few days have given me a different perspective from that of the awe-struck foreigner who sits down during the fist night of his vacation and tries to capture it all, which is never possible.

First of all, Taiwan lacks pubs. Plain and simple. It is so difficult to find a place to just sit and write down one's thoughts. It's not as if the Taiwanese are not communal people--I have run across numerous community get-togethers where a whole city block will be cordoned off and become a big party place. They sit together in front of their houses, and they will congregate at the night markets. But they don't go out to something resembling a "pub" because those just don't exists. I finally found an eatery with tables and chairs and a beer and nobody worrying about whether I want to eat yet, or not. Believe me, such a place is a rarity. If you're looking for a business opportunity, this is it: Open a pub!

I take that back: In Taichung I actually happened across a taproom for a mirobrewery, and I spent a delightful hour or two with a few of the erudite locals who had come to this place for a quaff. There's always a Wayne, a Paul, a George who will be happy to meet you and ask about you and your reason for being in the country. It was an interesting evening, wth a few really fine Double IPAs.

Meeting Taiwanese people is easy yet also very difficult. English is not spoken widely, from what I can tell. Yet some folks are totally fluent in it. The guy you ask to take a picture of you since you didn't bring the selfie stick may just be an anthropology professor who teaches in Taipei. Everybody is friendly, and a big smile and a cheerful "hello" will elicit giggles, head nodding, and "how are yous?" Still, I wish there could be more interaction.

Let me put it this way: I think I am missing out on so much by not being able to decipher any of the language or speaking a single word of Cantonese, Mandarin, or anything else relevant. And that's a shame.

The Taiwanese really smoke a lot, and whatever it is they smoke, it's worse than Gauloises and zware shag that in hippie circles undoubtedly is still used to roll your own. Even though smoking is not allowed inside of buildings, as far as I can tell, out on the street and in front of the local Seven-Eleven they will light up. At around $4.00 a pack it's less costly than in the US, but it's not cheap entertainment, either.

Talking about Seven-Elevens: Yep, its the same green, red, and white striped convenience store that you know from way back. (Granted, we still have some 7-11-branded convenience stores in the US, but they are one small brand among many much larger ones.) Here, the Seven-Eleven is dominating and ubiquitous. Every town has one, or two, or more. They offer clean restrooms, ATMs, a photocopy machine, in- and outdoor seating, lots of food items, and in general anything that you might need to survive for the rest of your days. The clerks are cheerful, everything is price marked, and the air-conditioning is a godsend for cyclotourists. Never, ever underestimate a Seven-Eleven again!

One thing that baffled me early on was the fact that it was difficult, at times impossible, to find a trash can, even at a Seven-Eleven. It turns out that Taiwan is very serious about its recycling, to the point of removing public trash cans so that people would not dump their household rubbish into public receptacles. So, in a Seven-Eleven, for example, you really have to look for the trashbins, which most of the time will be located somewhere in the seated eating area; but there are also locations where you simply hand your trash to the clerk who will deposit it into a bin behind the counter.

Just a few days ago I watched Taiwanese tourists who were on an organized bus tour and were having a carry-out lunch at a roadside rest stop. They divvied up their refuse into three plastic bags: one for chopsticks, one for the cardboard containers, and one for any organic left-overs. Wow. Maybe we can learn something from this island nation.

And speaking of trash: You gotta love the garbage trucks! Since there are no Dumpsters or the like, most folks have to wait for the garbage truck to come by their neighborhood and collect their trash. So, similar to an ice cream truck in the US that plays an endless tape to let the kids know that novelties are on the way, the trash mobiles here play The Maiden's Prayer or Für Elise to announce impending trash collections. It's quite the show!

I suppose that none of this is really limited to the west coast. So let's go a bit more into that location to set it apart from the south and the east. The west coast is, simply said, one big megalopolis that is separated by some rural and agricultural areas. Several major highways run down on the west of the central mountains, as does the high-speed rail. Places such as Taichung and Tainan are known in circles of international commerce (I know of them through the strong bicycle industry that Taiwan has), and as such they are modern, busy, and commerce-driven.

Riding from one hotel to the next required my navigating either the major highway (which is also part of the Bicycle Route No. 1 network) or using my Locus app to find my way, which never, not a single time, was an issue. I chose hotels based on distance, rating, and price, using mainly the Agoda website or app. Average nightly price with tax came to about $27. Now, let me tell you: Every hotel except one also included a big breakfast and all kinds of amenities that you'd have to ask for in a US-based hotel: toothbrush and paste, comb, showercap, slippers, razor, the occasional condom, and of course shampoo, body wash, and soap. Each room, without a fault, had two bottles of water plus two tea bags and two packs of a coffee/sugar mix, and of course there was a hot pot or simply a hot water dispenser similar to what one will find in US offices for cold water. Amazing. This ain't your Super Ocho!

Breakfast always consisted of good coffee (some of those places had fancy European machines that dispensed cappuccinos or lattes at the press of a button), tea, and usually two fruit juices. And in all, except in two hotels, I had a choice from a smorgasbord of local dishes that would make most Chinese buffets in the US pale in comparison. Check-in was always easy (as I had reserved ahead of time) and check-out was simply just a smile and a wave. Some rooms were spacious like the largest suite you've ever stayed in, and others were much smaller, but always with enough space for my bike and stuff. And all beds were at least an honest queen size, with only one set of pillows that was not comfortable as they must have been stuffed with concrete. Showers varied from the fanciest glass-enclosed spas to the sit-in sized tub with a shower head two nights ago. Overall, no complaints whatsoever.

How was riding, you may ask? Well, if you read my first Taiwan update you already know that I was gushing over the facilities for bikes after two days. Well, nothing has changed. Taiwan is simply a cyclist's paradise. The wild thing is that cycling is not for transportation here but for greater than 80% it is recreational! If you need to get from point A to point B, or you need to carry a load, you use your scooter. Not bikes, scooters. Thailand has a gazillion of them, but it seems to be they are even more numerous here. To give you an idea how many there are: There's hardly a pedestrian sidewalk in Taiwan since all available space is taken up by parking spaces for scooters. To make clear what scooters are, they are Vespa look-alikes.

To operate a scooter, you need to wear a helmet. To transport kids, well, it doesn't seem there are rules as long as the three-year old is standing between you and the handlebar. That's also the spot where you'd put your dog, or a large bag of rice, or a propane bottle. Behind you will be your helmet-clad wife plus another child. If the US has a love affair with SUVs, Taiwan accomplishes the same with the scooter. Soccer moms, rejoice!

To give you an idea about how safe I feel here in regard to petty theft and other crime, let me note that none of the scooters are locked with the heavy duty chains that denizens of Paris or Rome will use to secure their personal transportation. Helmets are simply left on the seat. I read somewhere that if you lose something, retrace your route and the item will have been put in a conspicuous spot so you can retrieve it.

On the west coast I rode in quite a bit of heavy traffic, and it didn't take me but a couple of days to learn all of the rules, or at least 95% of them. Number one: Traffic lights are to be obeyed, period. Red light means red, even if there's not another vehicle within a kilometer and the light won't change for the usual 60 to 90 seconds, as indicated. No right turn on red, either. Both rules are universal in Taiwan. I've never seen this kind of patience before. About half of the lights have countdown timers so that you can see how much longer it will be before you can wake up from your nap!

The nutty thing is that traffic lights are neither triggered by sensors nor are they sequenced so that a main artery will see traffic moving along at a steady flow. No kidding: Look at the picture below (exception to the rule!): All  south to north lights for two miles are green. In 67 seconds they will all be red. Nuts! No logic!

Lesser intersections (but seriously, there are third-tier intersections on the major highways that will suddenly stop all traffic because it's time to go RED) will have slowly flashing yellow and red warning lights, but these lights are generally ignored. When two vehicles enter the crossroads, both will slow down and proceed in a safe way without honking, gesturing, or threatening. Speaking of honking: It's simply not done, unless a life is at stake.

The cities are not without noise, though. While US in trucks will emit beeps when backing up, Taiwanese trucks start to beep whenever either turn signal is turned on; in addition, many of the really large trucks will also start playing via a loudspeaker a recorded message that, I suppose, lets others know that this truck is making a right turn and "better not pass on the inside, sucker." Or something like that. Add to that the constant drone of the scooters (although some are electric; at Seven-Elevens and other convenience stores you can swap batteries) and cars, and it's not exactly a peaceful environment--but it was never frightening or threatening.

One last thing about driving/riding etiquette: Assume you're on Cycling Route #1 and want to take a left turn at he next intersection to hit the next Seven Eleven. Well, if you're a scooter or bike, you're not allowed to go to the center lane to take a left turn. Instead, you need to take a right turn and enter a painted box (designated for motos and bikes) to now wait for the light to turn green so you can turn into the traffic at a 90-degree angle. Actually, it's a beautiful ballet, and I enjoyed joining it on a few occasions just so I could feel smug about understanding and following the rules.

As mentioned earlier, I tried to get off the major cycling route when it wasn't too much of a detour. You need to understand that Taiwan's government-sponsored Route #1 is simply amazing: Whenever I was on it, I had at least a six-foot wide lane to myself. OK, sometimes I had to share it with scooters, but many times they would have an additional six feet of their own lane! To my right, more often than not there was something like a "shoulder" or parking lane or something, depending on whether we were in town or between major settlements. The cars had, on the west coast, in probably 80% of the time two lanes for themselves--going in one direction! And then the same arrangement on the other side. Can you imagine that in the US? Well, I can't either. Add to that the smoothest asphalt you've ever driven/riden on for more than 90% of the way, and you'll understand why I'm so in love with this place.

 ,

Temples: They will pop up out of nowhere! You look to your right--or left--and there is one of those beautiful, inviting, colorful places that are not only places of worship but also community centers and just general places to spend time to clear your head, or whatever the Taiwanese may do--sometimes they seem to just recharge their cell phones of play a video game. I'm not a religious person, but from what I have read and gathered over the past week or so, this Buddhism/Taoism thing sure isn't as obnoxious as our Christian we're-better-than-the-rest-of-you bullcrap.

Temples are so accessible, and so friendly. Sure, there are those entry guardian gods that look positively bad-ass, but from there it is all so, how to put it?, welcoming! What a nice concept to ask the gods for answers to your questions by throwing moon bocks. Dont like the answer? Well, ask again--you can do so up to three times. And please, enjoy the inense sticks...

No, I didn't ask any questions of any temple gods, although I held some well-worn moon blocks in my hands. Those who know me are aware that I did so with respect but also with my conviction that all things religious are nothing but a hoax perpetuated by millennia of rulers that realized that man's fear of nothingness could be exploited for their own means. Fine by me. But it doesn't mean that I don't respect and try to understand other people and peoples' beliefs.

Whenever I veered off the major route and started to "freelance it," as like to call it, the adventure really began. I'd follow one-lane back-roads, see the backs of houses, ride along rice paddies and tilapia farms. Locus is the best map program for a traveler, bar none. I never got lost yet saw the most out-of-the-way places one could imagine.

I spent my days riding (mostly with a tailwind on the west coast, on average maybe 55 miles), and in the evenings I walked the towns. Read in any guidebook about Taiwan, and you will learn about the night markets. OMG, you have no idea!!! Every one of the larger towns and townships has one; sometimes they wil happen only once a week, others are a nightly affair. Think of a night market as a pop-up store event for every food vendor in town, plus an oppotunity for every peddler of bras, slippers, and cooking utensils to bring out the wares. Add to that, of course, every owner of an establishment of "chance" to try to separate every night market goer from all his stash of cash--we're talking whack-a-mole, throw-the-ring, shoot-that-balloon, get-the-answer-right, and the ever so popular crane device with which you try to grab a stuffed toy bear and dump it into a chute.

Night markets are reason enough to travel to Taiwan. Period.

I could go on and on. The fish harbors and the folks who hawk the freshest seafood you'll ever see or taste. The fried octopus balls. The endless miles of bike-only trails along the ocean. The friendly cyclotourist. Hearing the grade school pupils repeat their lessons while I ride by. Watching the group of kindergartners learning a choreographed dance. Seeing the old, bent woman working the rice paddy.

Damn, its good to be in Taiwan. Good night now. This was a labor of love.

Jürgen