Hitchhiking around all of Taiwan
Three weeks, dozens of amazing strangers, and endless stories
From the plane I can see Taichung, my destination, down below. The Taiwanese West Coast does indeed look like one massive city from up here.
The air is filled with smog and I can make out chimneys in the distance. Landing on this side of the island, one would be forgiven for thinking this is all there is to Taiwan — a big industrial complex where toys and electronics are made, stamped with the famous "Made in Taiwan" label.
I turn back to the outdated Lonely Planet guide I bought from a second-hand store in Bangkok a few days ago. It notes that Taiwanese people are some of the nicest in the world. I figure this is something that's said about most countries on their respective guides and move on.
Upon landing, I set out to look for the bus stop from where to take my bus to the hostel. On two occasions, I stop briefly to read the signs, and both times someone quickly approaches and offers me help. These people are indeed quite nice, I think to myself.
The city feels empty. Tonight is Chinese New Year, which, as I'd come to learn, means most people go off to the countryside to be with their families.
At the hostel, I cry a little. A month ago, I parted ways with my then-girlfriend, expecting to see her only eight or so months later (turned out to be ten). And in Bangkok I parted ways with my family, who I'll probably not see for at least half a year as well. I feel alone in the world.
After the moment passed, I gather myself and start thinking about what to do. I've landed in Taiwan and have three weeks to spend here yet not a single plan.
I have two ambitious ideas in mind: I want to either bike or hitchhike around all of Taiwan.
To this day, now four years later, I still don’t know why those two were my options. I’d never properly hitchhiked, except for a few rides I’d accepted here and there (which didn’t always turn out great), and despite being reasonably athletic, I pretty much suck at biking.
I guess there's something in me that draws me to the idea of ambitious and difficult objectives, as well as the concept of going to extremes or covering "all" of a region.
The latter is probably driven by influences from my childhood. As a one year-old my parents drove for almost 17,000 kilometers with me in the backseat going from Belo Horizonte to Ushuaia and back, and as a teen we went from Helsinki to mainland Europe's northernmost point, Nordkapp, also by car. Not to mention the numerous road trips around Brazil.
(And since Taiwan, I've also done things in the same vein, like walking around all of Andorra or driving around all of Iceland in a weekend).
Whatever the reason was, eventually I decide to go the hitchhiking route, figuring it will give me more time for detours and exploring areas in more depth.
At the hostel, I meet a Taiwanese guy who's also doing some hitchhiking. My plan is to go North while he's going South, but he helps me out by making a sign that has "Taipei" written in Mandarin, as well as "please give me a ride" in smaller characters.
The night of Chinese New Year is largely uneventful. Unlike Western New Year, when millions flock to my homeland's most famous beach, Copacabana, for massive parties, here, there isn't much for a tourist to do on this night. There are a lot of fireworks, which the seven of us at hostel watch from the rooftop, but otherwise not much happened.
The next day, I set off on my adventure. I'd done some research the night before and picked my spot carefully. Writing this post I wondered if I could think in the same way I did back then and find the exact spot I first hitched from. Didn't take me much more than a minute to find it.
Standing on the side of the road, a lady stopped and offered to drive me to the train station. The internet had told me this might happen here. Hitchhiking is not too common in Taiwan, so some people don't understand the concept.
To mitigate this, there are a few measures I took to increase my chances, such as using a sign rather than my thumb, as well as shaving clean each morning, given most Taiwanese people don't have a lot of body or facial hair.
As the minutes passed, I started to question my decision to hitchhike.
However, within thirty or so minutes, a woman stopped and picked me up. She told me she was headed to Taipei, but first was going to stop in Dajia to visit the temples.
And so my third hitchhike ever showed me the beauty of this method of traveling.
When hitchhiking, the journey from A to B isn't just a means to an end - it's an intense travel experience as well. You get to meet people, share stories, and learn about the local culture in ways that you otherwise wouldn't.
The driver (unfortunately young me didn't keep a journal or write down names) took us to a busy street market and insisted on buying me a bunch of Taiwanese food to try. We also went to the temple to ask the different entities for good fortune, and she taught me about each of them. One you ask for wealth, another for health, the other you ask for fruitful relationships, and so on. The temple itself is dedicated to Mazu, a goddess who watches over the fishermen.
Had I made my way to deserted Taipei by train I would have never learned about any of this.
And on the trip went.
Along the way I rode with families, elderly people, young friends, and couples — riding anything from small cars to a truck.
When going from Yilan to Hualien, a couple picked me up on their date night, having found me at a spot past the exit I was meant to stand at.
They were from Yilan and considering whether they should watch a movie or have dinner together. But upon finding me, they decided to turn their date night into driving me two hours to Hualien and two hours back, despite my strong protests that I could certainly find someone else to take me. They weren't having it, and we had a great conversation while taking the scenic road down the East Coast.
In Tainan, I was picked up by a man who said he could take me to Taipei but needed to attend a business meeting first. I said this was perfectly fine, expecting I’d stay in the car and wait, but when we arrived, he told me to come inside and join them.
It was very amusing to the men he was negotiating cleaning chemicals with that I was there, and we all had a lot of laughs. I also got to witness a traditional tea ceremony, which was entirely new to me.
The meeting felt more like a gathering of old friends. It was loud, informal, and there were a lot of jokes. Judging this was something I’d find odd (given my Nordic face), I was told at the end: "You know, I've never met those guys before". As a Brazilian, I get it, but it was still nice to see the warmth between strangers.
Then, as is customary, I was taken for lunch, although for the first time on the trip, I managed to convince him that I would pay for everyone's meal (i.e. mine, his, and his girlfriend’s). He bought me a grapefruit the size of my head as a thank you.
Getting food was a common occurrence, despite me actively trying to pay. An older man who was driving his friend, a woman from Singapore, to a Buddhist temple in the countryside for a spiritual retreat insisted in filling up a bag of fruits for me to take with me. This was particularly common because it was around New Year. I could never eat it all, but the people at the hostel were thankful for my gift.
A group of students also paid for my lunch on the way to Kaohsiung, and a man solo traveling in his van insisted on buying me snacks before taking me to indigenous celebration on the outskirts of Taitung.
The stories are endless.
In Taroko I visited a perhaps my favorite hot spring ever (and I lived in Iceland!), and the next day ended up chaining rides from two families to get to hike around Hehuanshan.
As it turns out, the family that gave me the first ride had slept in the same campsite as me the night before, and we’d had a little bit of a discussion because they were being loud at midnight. We didn’t recognize each other when I hopped in the car, but it turned out to be one of the best rides I got, a story I’ve told in more detail before.
Up North, me and John (English name of a Taiwanese native) bonded over not being able to sleep due to having a loud snorer in our room in Ruifang, our base for going to the Lantern Festival in Pingxi.
We quickly became friends, and spent the day after the festival bouldering (without pads) in Long Dong and then hiking a forbidden and actually reasonably dangerous trail to Taiwan’s Northernmost point in Shimen. Together we took a ride which was John’s first ever hitchhike.
I definitely had my lows and a few scares, like running from stray dogs on a lonely hike down South, but mostly it felt like the stars were aligning for me.
When I arrived in Kenting, I stopped to think about my next steps and ended up reading this one guy's blog talking about camping in Taiwan, which finished by saying "If you're around Pizza Rock, pop by and say hi".
Curious, I put Pizza Rock on Google Maps, expecting to find it is in Taipei or something, only to find I was fifty meters away from it!
There I bumped into Ugo, the blog's author, who actually no longer lived in Kenting but happened to be there. He gave me a bunch of recommendations and then drove me to a campsite for the night.
The three weeks I spent in Taiwan were some of the most intense and fun weeks I’ve ever had.
I didn’t keep a journal back then, and ever since coming back from the trip four years ago I’ve wanted to write about it but wasn’t able to. I started and stopped writing this piece endless times.
I think my biggest worry is not doing this experience justice. Many times I found myself writing about this trip in a way that was just recounting the facts — “Then a couple took me from Hualien to Dulan” — which is not enjoyable for me nor a reader.
Because these three weeks taught me a lot about Taiwan and about myself. I hiked above 3000m, swam in beaches and hot springs, camped in beautiful spots, ate amazing food, visited impressive temples, and fell in love with Taiwan and its people.
I was as far from home as I could possibly be (whatever home was back then) yet felt so welcomed by strangers that it energized me in such a way that is hard to describe.
So if anything, this is my big thank you to Taiwan and its people. You hold a very special place in my heart.
For the reader, if you’re to take anything from this, it’s to visit Taiwan. And for me, I’ll make sure to keep a travel diary next time.