Wednesday, 17th January
I’d been warned that the west coast of Taiwan was a largely industrial looking place with busy ports, densely populated towns, trucks, expresssways and wind turbines. Today the reality of that hit home as I spent well over half the 70 miles I covered making my through this smoggy sprawl of concrete and noise.
But it wasn’t all bad, and I think having a contrast is good in order to form a complete picture of any country. But If the best is yet to come then I’m glad I got this out the way first so I can end on a high.
I left Hscinhu after 8am, I’d slept well and quickly made it to the coast through thick morning traffic. My first view of the Taiwan strait was an underwhelming one. A flat muddy shoreline next to which were windbetaen trees and a cycle track with a rough surface dotted with weeds poking. But the wind was behind me and the track smoothed out as it followed the route 61, with occasional meandering detours close to the beach, alongside wind turbines and through farmland.
I passed a few people walking, and a holiday camp which showed a few signs of life, otherwise it was quiet. The wind was on my bike and the miles passed happily.
The track began to fade out and I rejoined the traffic on the road which was either non existent or incredibly busy. There didn’t seem to be much inbetween. But there was almost always a decent shoulder, occasional signposts about some kind of bike route, and often an entirely separate portion of road for bikes/scooters.
There was a big climb, I forget where, but after that I coasted down into Tongxiao. A city known for its salt factory, and nuclear power station. I stopped for lunch at a family mart and felt my skin had burnt, but my cold was cleaning. I ate instant ramen and grab a few supplies for the road. Maybe because of the heat I hadn’t had a huge appetite but I was also making an effort not to gorge myself on convenience store junk like I had the habit of doing in the past.
I forced myself to drink half a litre of water and continued. On the way out of town I passed on overgrown cemetery, then a flock of photographers with tripods all pointed at the nuclear power station, churning away. Against a blue sky it did look impressive somehow, but seemed an odd subject nonetheless.
The afternoon was all road, noise, and industrial scenery – ranging from shipping container parking lots, factories, ports, more wind turbines, fields full of trash, piles of old tvs and abandoned motorbikes. In summary: stuff either getting made, stuff getting moved around, or stuff getting disposed of – all three of these things overlapped each other leaving you pondering the lifecycle of things, and the feeling that it would be better if perhaps none of this existed at all.
Parts of the highway were still being constructed, cramping the landscape, and my headspace, even further. I put on a facemask i’d bought at Family Mart and powered through it – I still had a tailwind, and the more I felt the surroundings getting to me, the faster I pedalled.
It’s was weird, I still felt in a good mood despite everything, and felt strangely privileged to see something that most people don’t, even it was pure ugliness and gloom by traditional standards – though I did worry when the novelty would wear off.
I crossed the Dadu river on the quieter of two bridges and watched the trucks and wind farms and chimneys disappear in a haze. At the other side I finally broke away on to smaller roads, zig-zagging through much quieter farmland. There will still factories and big buildings but compared to the main roads i’d spent the day on this was tranquility.
Things got a little more crowded again as I turned toward Lukang – my stop for the night. I’d been recommended it by the host at the hostel last night, and had high expectations based on his description. As the road became busy I feared the worse – the approach seemed like that to any other standard Taiwanesse town.
But I turned off the main road, down a narrow alleyway, and stumbled upon Lukangs old street which was exactly like the image I had in mind, something like a frame from a Miyazaki film. The hostel was close by and also very old and charming. A 200+ year old building with creaky stairs, lanterns, and sliding wooden doors. The bunk beds were more like a regular hostel, but it was a decent spot to spend a night.
I took a short stroll around the town a little later on. Unfortunately by that point more or less everything on the old street had closed. But after the day i’d had I was happy just to not hear and see traffic. The town had many temples and intriguing backstreets and reminded me of Kyoto.
I went to the main street, ate a slab of fried chicken, then a pineapple smoothie and returned to the hostel. I sat in the quiet room at the back writing and listening to a light rainfall hit the tin roof.
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