HOT STUFF COMING THROUGH... GRANITE ROCK: HOT SPRINGING IN TAIWAN

On Friday 6th February my man Phill arrived in Taiwan. Phill put forward a theory a few weeks ago that he can beat jetlag. I’m not a believer of this; I saw the way his head was lolling around in the taxi from the airport despite our driver’s best efforts to demo his exhilarating rush hour driving tekkers (*lurch* and then *vom*). At least this taxi driver was sober, I can’t say the same of the driver who delivered me to airport. On Saturday 7th February, after hearing his claims Nick set out to test Phill’s declaration… with a long day trip to the mountains, comprised of hiking a steep (STEEEEEEEEP!!) and winding hairpin bended footpath to find a hot spring in a river basin. We were reassured that we would be able to call for a ride back up halfway along our return walk to the car. More on this later…

Bearing in mind that the roads in and around Daxi are especially busy with tourists on the weekends, we left early to beat the crowds. For someone deprived of sleep for over 36 hours, Phill did amazingly well across the course of the day. However, it is hard to fall asleep when faced with the most beautiful multidimensional scenery that transformed from the bustling streets of Daxi to the worn and often crumbling roads carved into the walls of the soaring mountains. We passed Lala Mountain, formerly called Daguan Mountain (Daguan meaning ‘beautiful’ in the language of the Atayal, a Taiwanese tribe). Lalasan, the scenic area located in Taoyuan county near Fuxing Township, is home to famous giant juniper trees that sit atop the peak of the mountain overlooking the steep valley walls below. We watched the giant trees appear and disappear from view as we made our way around the mountain roads, winding our way across the valleys to find the hot springs.

Not to be without drama, Nick was enjoying the challenge of mastering the ascending roads and sharp turns, the challenges posed by the oncoming traffic, narrowing roads… and …ripped up tarmac. BAM! We bust a tyre! Due to the high frequency of earthquakes and typhoons in Taiwan, the country roads suffer a lot of wear and tear. The effects of this are far more extreme than just a few rough road surfaces, and the evidence was abundant. Forest covers the mountains from top to bottom due to the subtropical climate. There was a stark contrast between the forest and the large areas of rock and mud that had been exposed as a result of landslides. In fact, it was really incredible to see the sheer scale of these events - I can only speculate about the forces involved and the powerful influence they have on the local people who live in these areas. The destruction caused by landslides can be truly catastrophic – especially for those who choose to build their homes to dangle precariously over the mountain edge, resting atop (very flimsy looking) stilts...

You may or may not be familiar with what a squat toilet is, but I started my journey with a (very) brief visit to one of these. After 3 weeks in Taiwan, I have encountered a number of squat toilets, and I would like to proudly say that I have never baulked at the possibility that I might have to use one. But I have to admit that this particular squat toilet was the least welcoming of all squat toilets… it made the comically filthy marketplace squat toilet I recently encountered in Bade city look positively homely. Its position was haphazardly close to a cliff face at the edge of a car park in a small village located right at the start of our walking route. Despite this element of visceral danger, the most exhilarating part had to be the smell, which was eye-watering. I will save the details of what it actually looked like, but instead I will indicate to you that it appeared to have been there for many years but never to have seen a toilet brush. It may have also only been used in the dark of night… Okay, okay – I did have an option to use another toilet. But firstly, the other toilet was still of an equal standard in hygiene, and secondly, it did not have a door.

Following my lesson in Taiwanese hiking toilets we began our descent into the river basin. The start of the path is very steep – this remains unchanged throughout the course of the trail. However, the walking surface underfoot changes from tarmac road to concrete steps to dirt trail and rocks. For the majority of the route the only sounds are of the forest – as Phill put it, it’s just like Jurassic Park – and the odd fellow hiker (which actually could also be just like Jurassic Park...). However, later into the descent the rush of the river can be heard, along with the waterfalls that cascade from the rock faces into the hot spring pools, indicating close proximity to our destination.

The last few metres of the walk include negotiating a narrow dirt path intercepted with large tree roots and large rocks protruding from the rock face on the left which overlooks the steep ten metre drop to the river bed. To reach the boulders that surround the river and hot springs we climbed down a rusty steel ladder that had been secured into the rock face. The ladder had clearly seen better days – a number of ‘make-do and mend’ repairs were evident from the variety of materials used as rungs.

We met the river at a ninety degree bend - the water travelling from our right from a large turquoise pool upstream. The river cascaded over rocks infront of us before continuing into a steep-walled and narrow gorge and out of sight to our left. Across the river infront of us were the pools of hot spring water. The hot springs were already quite busy: the two pools were occupied by Taiwanese tourists. To reach the pools a river crossing was necessary. Fortunately, there was a rope to help guide the hot springers across the slippery rocks of the shallow and narrow river (5-6m across and less than 0.5m deep). Unfortunately, the rocks were very slippery and water was pretty f*****g cold and both Phill and I took an unexpected dip before reaching the other side. Fortunately, we had left all valuables at the side of the river where we had set up camp. Unfortunately, everyone saw us slipping and sliding over the rocks like giant white gangly spaghetti people because they were intrigued to see giant white gangly spaghetti people slipping and sliding over the rocks. And that’s the story of my life here.

We were relieved to reach the warmth of the hot springs after our journey across the river and the slippy granite rocks. The pools were only three or four metres wide and around two meters long, with a depth of only a foot or so. The first pool we sat in was constantly filling with cooler water from a waterfall of spring water that had exited the rock face further up the valley walls among the ferns, branches and vines that swept down towards the the pools. It provided respite from the intensely hot spring water that entered the pools directly from the rocks of the river basin below us. The effect was like that of sitting in a bath that was still running; we were hit with waves of hot and cold water. We took it in turn to sit under the waterfall – nature’s own shoulder massage machine. When we had taken enough of the heat, we climbed down from the pools to plunge into the cold and fast flowing water of the river.

The pools slowly emptied over the hour or so that we bathed there, and we moved along to the next pool, which was shallower than the waterfall pool, and less rocky (more gritty) underfoot. It was also more consistent in temperature, and fed with slower moving water which bubbled out of the nearby rocks. After one last dip in the cold we made our way back across the river to our base, where Nick cooked up a soup using ingredients we had prepared (mostly – apart from panic-bought noodles from a nearby village store), followed by coffee, over a fire.

By the time we had finished our late lunch and coffees, we were the only people left. We cleared up and began our return journey to the car at the top of the hiking path - the crashing of the waterfalls slowly fading as we put distance between us and the river.

As I mentioned earlier, it is possible to bypass the last part of the journey whilst still ‘appreciating the scenery’ by calling a local man (whose name I know not, but whose phone number is posted on white signs in red ink along the trail). He will drive you up the section of tarmac path as you near the peak of the hill for the meager fee of $300 NT (around £6). Yes, you can really ‘appreciate’ the scenery as you sit in the back of the twenty year-old blue pick-up truck as it rears up over the cliff face to negotiate each of the dozen or so hairpin bends with two-point turns. He really puts his aging breaks through their paces. Clinging on to your belongings as you slide up and down the ‘hands-free’ trailer means that you really can ‘appreciate’ that this (beautiful) mountain vista may be the last vista you may ever see. High on a mix of beer and beetle nuts (a local truck driver’s equivalent to coffee; a stimulant in the form of a nut wrapped in a pasted tobacco leaf) the driver kindly shows us the step to help us exit the vehicle after our thrilling escapade.

We returned to Daxi with shaky legs – both from the lactic build-up, and the adrenaline of the hillside trauma… I mean adventure… what a day.