Why we bike: A Taiwan odyssey
Wrapped around the entire island of Taiwan is huan-dao (環島) or Cycling Route No.1.
It’s just under 1000km of biking, give or take the many arteries of potential cycling routes that branch off from this main route.
The route was said to be inspired by Ming, a deaf character in the film Island Etude. The student grabs his bike and a backpack one day and starts cycling around the island. On his tour, he learns about what makes his home country, and himself, beat.
I landed in Taiwan in February, with my own bike and backpack. For my first few days biking, it was mostly just me and the road. For every climb, there were sweeping country roads, winding down alongside rice paddies and past temples with smoky incense guarding the doors.
In Hsinchu, I stayed with Jilien and her family. She wasn’t a cyclist herself, but she wanted to share the world with her two sons. They introduced me to a Taiwanese dessert - douhua, a silken tofu dish with red beans and tapioca balls, chosen to be enjoyed hot because it was a freezing night. They taught me the rules of baseball (a big game was playing), and Jillen shared with me the best places for shopping in Taipei.
In Puli, I stayed with Jia-Lun and his adorable family. He had been biking back to Taiwan from Portugal when he decided to leave his bike in Iran and take a flight to marry his now-wife. He’d been trying since to get his daughters into cycling, but they’re not fans. I reassured him of my own dad taking me mountain biking every weekend and how much I hated it, but look at me now - I know they’ll come around.
On the morning of day six, biking out of the yet-to-wake-up city of Kaohsiung, I cycled next to Xiaoyan Zhang.
“It was the pre-30-year-old syndrome,” the Singapore native tells me about why she found herself on a bike in Taiwan. “I wanted to make my last year of my 20s a very special and adventurous one.”
“Apart from the mid-life crisis, I think 30 years is an important milestone as I have finally achieved more financial stability and freedom to truly enter into adulthood. I believe it is also a watershed moment for many who might be lost in life or work progressions.”
Before this trip, she’d never cycled on the road. Together we biked 90km to Pingtung.
“I was so inspired by the quote from the cycling movie that goes, ‘Some things, if you don’t do them now, you’ll never do them ever.’ Life is short, enjoy while your health and energy lasts,” Xiaoyan says.
Her favourite moments:
“There’s really too many amazing moments to be discussed, but if I have to pinpoint one, I’d say it’s all the beautiful encounters with the people along the way. From the uncle that cycled 30km with me on my first day just to make sure that I learned the Taiwanese traffic, to the couple that treated me my first cup of bubble tea and good food after knowing that I was doing the round-island trip, to the host that drove me to town after night just to get some medications, to the young Taiwanese man who invited me to his family and accompanied me for close to 200km of cycling, all these memories and goodwill will last in my heart forever.”
A memorable character:
“The fitspo uncle who’s also a cycling enthusiast and would cycle almost every day for about 100km, despite his age, he’s close to 70 years old already!”
Her biking soundtrack:"
The ocean and the sound of chatter with her new bikepacking friends.
At my next hostel, I met Tim Lu. With his last ten days of freedom before he had to enlist in the military (it’s mandatory for the Taiwanese), the 19-year-old decided to embark on Cycling Route No.1.
“My previous experience told me that bikepacking would be a great idea to feel free,” Tim tells me. “My favourite part was meeting other travellers. Every person I met on this journey was amazing. Some people I only talked to for a short time, maybe about half an hour. But I still felt: Wow, I learned a lot from them!”
At that point in Kenting, I was desperate for a beer and a load of carbs. Luckily, the main street was packed with convenience stores to choose from and pizza trucks. We sipped our beers, ate our pizzas, perched on the curbside and yarned and yarned.
He told me about letting ChatGPT plan one leg of his journey, meaning he ended up accidentally biking 180km and only ended up at his hostel at 11 pm.
“I almost gave up but I had already booked my accommodation and couldn’t get a refund,” he says. “Never underestimate a broke person’s determination.”
Tim’s favourite place:
“Line Weaving House B&B in Taitung county, Taimali township. It's in an unknown small Aboriginal people's village called Kanalung. The route from Kenting to Taitung is between the coast and the mountain, very simple, very quiet, and extremely beautiful. It was raining that day, but I felt peaceful. The owner gave me a towel when I got there. I felt extra warm because they hadn't originally supplied it. The owner is a twenty-five-year-old artist, super intelligent and talented. She was born and raised in the city. She is really special because generally, the younger generation is moving to the city, not the countryside. She makes bracelets and helped me make my own.
She told me she believes everything that happens is the best. I like that spirit, and I started to think that way since then. Before she left, she randomly asked me if I liked coffee. I said yes. Then she gave me two packs of hand-brewed coffee, a bottle of Americano coffee, and an ointment that they were selling. I felt incredibly lucky, and yet my heart is still warm now.”
His soundtrack:
Tim was setting off again the next morning, and so I linked up with four other solo travellers - two Americans, an Indian woman and a Swiss woman. We hit a street-side bar.
Many margaritas later, a few tequila shots, and I don’t remember finding my bed. But I do remember meeting Christina, an Italian solo traveller who told us she’d motorbiked across Europe. Such a badass. She told us not to waste our time on indecisive boys. And I remember twirling around on the pavement, giggling and singing with these soul sisters for a night.
Back on the road, and it was one of the best days of my life. Thanks to a homemade playlist, five hours long, I set off and up into the hills to cross from the West to the East coast.
On the downside, I stop by a puppet show at a temple and meet Emily and Sean Chilvers, a couple from the UK biking to the west coast.
They’d caught the bikepacking bug after a three-month adventure from Florence to Tbilisi.
“It’s such a joyously freeing way to explore the world fast enough to give you some pace but slow enough to enjoy what’s around you in the moment and really embrace the nature, culture and people you’re surrounded by,” Emily says.
They had a short time frame for a holiday in between jobs, and Taiwan seemed like the perfect-sized island. Along the way, in Juifen, they met a potter who had been creating his art for 30 years. He invited them in and showed them his studio.
Emily is a potter herself and says it was paradise. “If we hadn’t been on the bikes, we would’ve bought more than we did,” she says. “But we each bought a bowl and lovingly carried them around in our panniers, and we’re pleased to say they made it home in one piece!”
As we’re chatting, we see a family on bikes. The dad, in full beast mode, is topless and biking uphill, towing his daughter behind him on her own bike. Impressive.
Their best memorable moments:
“We really enjoy just being able to ride through so many different landscapes and see it change in front of your eyes. The East coast was beautiful and we loved cycling through Hualien County with the mountains on either side and the valley of rice fields. There was a particular day when we turned off the main road to cycle through Danongdafu Forest Park, and it was so peaceful, like we were the only ones there. We stopped to have a snack overlooking the rice fields and could see in the distance the clouds swirling down from the mountains into the valley.”
When they wanted to give up:
“The day we left Taitung City was the only real tough day.. We’d already had to repair a puncture quite early on, so we’d lost momentum and the weather was pretty grey and miserable all day, so there wasn’t much to look at as we cycled along the coast. The climbs were long and drawn out, and just felt like a bit of a drag. But we knew that we had a nice place to stay at the end of the day, so we just focused on getting there and sure enough, once we arrived had a warm shower and enjoyed the guest house's home-made biscuits and tea, then the day was all forgotten!”
Their soundtrack:
Making it to the East Coast, I toasted to making it halfway with a chocolate pancake stack from 7/11. While recharging my phone, two different groups of Taiwanese tourists stop and come and chat with me. They cannot believe that me, a woman, am cycling by myself. I tell them, girls can do anything. They load me up with fruit and wave me off, tooting horns as their cars eventually pass me.
On my last day of the circuit, I set out from Yilan, where I’d stayed in a prison with artist Wen-Wei and his partner Joyee, and met with Xiaoyan for soup dumplings.
Becky then joined us.
Becky Park, from the US, had spent two years teaching English in Taiwan but had never had the time to commit to the bikepacking trip. But she made time for it when visiting the island this year for a friend’s wedding.
“I loved Pingtung County. It was the first glimpse of blue sea water, and the people I biked past were always so nice, cheering me on and handing me snacks,” she says. In Dawu, Taitung, she stayed at a B&B owned by a Vietnamese-Taiwanese family, and the owner drove her around to different viewpoints.
The hardest moment?
“I didn’t want to give up, but the hardest moment was when my bike chain got twisted on the Shouka route. It’s quite remote, so there was no one around me, and I had never fixed a bike chain before. I almost called the police to come pick me up, but I called one of my cyclist friends (who didn’t pick up the first time and called me back 15 minutes later), who helped me troubleshoot the problem.”
Memorable characters:
“It was always mindblowing to meet the walking huandao-ers along the way… they were really impressive.”
Her soundtrack:
After about 30km of biking, it started pouring with rain and we all donned our not-so-waterproof 2$ plastic sheet jackets. On a small peninsula peeking out into the rough ocean, we found a cosy restaurant to devour steaming abalone noodles.
Bikepacking really teaches you how the simple things make you happy. After hours of cycling alongside Taiwan’s version of the Shinkansen line (high-speed rail) earlier in the trip, I found myself increasingly angry at everything. But a toasted sandwich and ice cream saved the day, and life became worth living again.
Favourite snacks:
Becky: The tuna rice ball (飯糰 fantuan), sesame noodles, and seaweed Lays.
Tim: A pack of candy so his taste won't get bored while he’s biking, cold drinks with jelly, or ice cream if the weather is boiling.
Emily and Sean: Being British, they’d always start off with a milk tea from the hot vending machines. That was normally accompanied by a melon pan or the neatly vacuum-packed jam sandwiches.
Xiaoyan: She was obsessed with the karaage popcorn chicken.
As they finished their noodles, I set off again. To end this journey as I began, alone. It was a massive mission to get back, but I’d promised myself a massage and sushi train as the reward.
For me, that was the best part about bikepacking. Everything is simplified down. All you need to do is get from A to B. Your only care is fuelling yourself and not falling off your bike or crashing. There’s nowhere else for you to be. But to be in the moment.
You collect so many little moments of joy. Like the people you meet, and what you learn from them as you listen to the stories that they carry. Like the taste of the best pork soup dumplings you’ve ever had. Like endless downhill along empty roads as the sun sets, golden hour with hopeful songs - the soundtrack to the day - pumping in your ears. Free.
Of course, endless thoughts come and go when you’re biking. But it’s moving meditation. Things don’t get stuck as much, and you can’t spiral as you’re moving forward. And you can’t look back either.