Taiwan: Travel Guide

The call of Taiwan: beyond expectations

If a part of my heart remained in Asia, a significant slice belongs to Taiwan, an island I love to remember as a place of quiet intensity, still relatively far from the routes of mass tourism.

I remember the first time I arrived here, upon the suggestion of a friend I met in Malaysia who was originally from this island. She spoke to me about Taiwan with a discreet enthusiasm, inviting me to try it, to give it a chance. I thought I would only stay for two or three weeks, partly because the costs were higher compared to other parts of Asia, but I ended up using the entire three months of my visa. And since then I kept going back, and I still continue to feel the call of this island.

Despite being geographically small, Taiwan encompasses a surprising variety of landscapes. Here the land changes its face with an almost silent naturalness: high mountains that seem to brush the clouds, cliffs that drop straight into the ocean, tea plantations swaying slowly in the wind, hot springs hidden among the valleys, and modern cities pulsing with technology and urban life.

It is a territory where high technology coexists with incense-soaked temples and spiritual traditions that still rhythm the day of many people. Alongside the population of Chinese origin, there is also a minority of Taiwanese aboriginal communities, guardians of ancient cultures that tell another story of the island, deeper and less visible to the distracted gaze of the traveler.

Taiwanese culture stems from Chinese tradition, but over time it has developed its own identity, a delicate balance between historical heritage and contemporary freedom. Taiwan is an island that conveys a feeling of safety and welcoming, a place where getting lost becomes easy and at the same time reassuring.

Hitchhiking, rain, and coffee: experiencing the island

I remember one of the most beautiful experiences I ever had here: hitchhiking around the island. At that time, I met many people willing to help me. Often the journey turned into a shared lunch or a small detour to show me a place they considered special, as if they wanted to participate in my journey for a stretch of the road.

I lived for a period in the north, in Keelung, one of the rainiest areas I have ever encountered. The rain here has an almost constant presence, a veil of water that envelops the streets and the port with a gentle melancholy.

In Taipei, I usually spend my time working on my computer in the Louisa Coffee shops scattered around the city, places where the clinking of cups and low conversations become a daily soundtrack as I watch life flow by beyond the glass panes. Every now and then I look up from the keyboard and between the buildings the silhouette of Taipei 101 appears, like an old friend to greet every time I return to the city.

A see you later, never a goodbye

The last time I visited the island, living costs had become quite high and finding accommodation for short stays was complicated. After a few attempts, I temporarily gave up, leaving the island with a silent promise to return as soon as possible.

Taiwan is one of those places that doesn’t try to impress you at all costs, and perhaps that’s exactly why it ends up staying with you. An island that doesn’t overwhelm you, but accompanies you slowly, day after day, until you realize that its streets, its night markets, its mountains, and its light rains have become part of how you look at Asia. And when the time comes to leave, you already know that sooner or later you will find an excuse to return.