Day 9: Hengchun to Eluanbi (to Hengchun)

We finished our Taiwan End to End at 11am today, greeted by crowds of paparazzi – or perhaps holidaymakers taking selfies – and heavy rain. But there was a real feeling of achievement. And that was just getting to the end of the walkway to the southernmost point through the holiday crowds.

The final leg of the End to End was the 15-mile hop from the hostel in Hengchun Old Town, most of it through high winds and pelting rain. We stopped off to see this unusual natural phenomenon at Chuhuo. Natural gas seeps out of the ground and bursts into flame spontaneously – and, most astonishingly, the flames die down briefly every time you take a photo (pic). It's not a reassuring place for those of us who worry we've left the gas on.

This is what the End of Taiwan looks like from the approach road (pic). Now I've done a few E2Es, I can confirm that it fits the general international pattern of radar station, lighthouse, pummelled coastline, and gales. (It was very, very windy, and my light carbon-fibre frame bike was being blown all over the place. The only place I've experienced worse wind was, as you'd expect, Harrogate.)

The general scenery put Tim in mind of Cornwall in a particularly wet summer. Perhaps the scarcity of decent beer is making him homesick.

The excitement mounted.

And at last we arrived at the monument that marks the southernmost point, Eluanbi (pic). The population of Taiwan is 24 million, most of whom were there too. Well, it is still New Year holiday season. I apologise to everyone whose selfies we photobombed.

This map is notable for being the only one in Taiwan that has 'You are here' in the right place (pic). At a place where it's a bit obvious anyway.

Given how well-signed and crowded the south point is, it's curious that the north point is so obscure: we were the only people at the lighthouse and radar station there. However, one aspect of our experience was the same. Grey muddy stripes up our back caused by rain and lack of mudguards.

So, mission accomplished. We returned to Hengchun in the drizzle and were intrigued by this sign. Crabs crossing the road can be a menace: their splintering shells can puncture bike tyres. Luckily they're all fair weather crabs round here. We didn't see any.

This rock just up the coast is supposed to resemble the profile of former US President Richard M Nixon. Really.

No, us neither.

"This 660m-long sandy beach is one of the park's nicest, though the view is marred somewhat by the nuclear power station" (Crook, S., Bradt Guide to Taiwan 2nd ed, Bradt Travel Guides, 2014 p277)

We have a couple more days of hire left on the bikes, so there'll be more posts... but meanwhile we can look forward to celebrating with a pint or two of good beer. Er, so that'll be back in Cambridge, then...

Miles today: 27
Miles from Fuguei to Eluanbi: 370
Days taken: 9
Punctures: 0 (but Blowouts: 1)
Panniers failed: 4
Emergency taxis: 1
Taiwanese real ales: 5

Total miles in Taiwan: 463

Day 8: Dawu Harbour to Hengchun

The most pleasant day of cycling so far, ending with a long downhill into the old town of Hengchun, just a few miles from the southernmost point.

Our usual morning routine is breakfast at a 7-Eleven. There are branches everywhere in Taiwan, so you don't even have to deviate from the cycle route (pic).

This one was right next door to our hotel, making it the first day Tim's pannier hadn't fallen off before breakfast.



After days on main roads, we were on quiet single-track back roads at last, cutting across from the east to west coast near the bottom of the island. There were lovely views down to the south coast too (pic). Progress was a bit slow, because at every stop to admire the scenery we got talking to a Taiwanese family who would give us tea and snacks.

It was downhill and wind-assisted for the last couple of hours, and we rolled into the historic town of Hengchun with its ancient walls (pic). They date right back to the Qing Dynasty.

Actually, that's not so impressive. The Qing Dynasty went on until 1911, and the walls were built in 1873. And even so, most of them have fallen down and had to be rebuilt.

Fun to walk round, though. Especially given the lack of guardrails and very high winds today.

We dined on noodles and I washed mine down with a dragonfruit milk shake (pic). Strictly, the fruit is a pitaya. But the vendors call it 'dragonfruit' thinking the western tourists are so dim they'll believe anything said with a smile and confidence. Which I did. I must practise the smile + confidence + lying thing.

This lurid purple seems the in colour. After three days cycling in blazing sunshine, any patches of skin the sun cream missed is turning a similar shade.

Miles today: 42
Miles since Fuguei: 355

Day 7: Taitung to Dawu Harbour

Today's blog is a CUSTARD APPLE special.

It's CUSTARD APPLE season right now in Taiwan, which is why I'm smiling, and they grow them big here (pic).

It's one of my top three favourite fruits, along with honey mangoes and persimmons.

Nobody in Hull has ever seen a CUSTARD APPLE, even if it is the City of Culture 2017.

And they were selling them in stalls all along today's ride (pic). So I wasn't looking much at the coastal scenery.

The CUSTARD APPLE sold here is the real thing, not like the 'custard apples' in Britain (outside Hull). They're cherimoyas.

The CUSTARD APPLES came from plantations right by the stalls, so environmentally conscious types will be pleased to know they don't have many food inches (pic).

The Taiwanese also cultivate a CUSTARD APPLE–cherimoya hybrid called an Atemoya. It's said to taste of pineapple.

They also evidently have developed a CUSTARD APPLE that grows its own packaging on the tree (pic).

We bought one the size of a grapefruit and scoffed it for lunch.

It was delicious, rather tastier and richer than UK supermarket cherimoyas, with thicker flesh, and nice hints of ripe pear.

Then we cycled the short, wind-assisted ride to our hotel room in a small fishing village down the road. I was so happy I was singing to myself:

Poland and Spain, and the Proms, and test cricket
Stops on long bike rides to wee in a thicket
Real ale, art deco, and baths in hot springs
These are a few of my favourite things

South Indian thalis and soft CUSTARD APPLES
Well-surfaced railtrails on which sunlight dapples
Tailwinds and downhills and all cycling brings
These are a few of my favourite things

When the tyre bursts, when the shops close, when it's dark and cold
I simply remember my favourite things, and then I don't feel so old.

Luckily Tim was so busy worrying about his panniers, which are continuing to fall off at regular intervals, he didn't hear me.

Miles today: 43
Miles since Fuguei: 313

Day 6: Zhuwu to Taitung

Yet more bike problems for Tim, on an otherwise straightforward day of sun, cycling, more coast views, buns and night market grub.



It's New Year's Day today, and this display of figures in a little village evidently celebrates the new Year of the Helicopter (pic). The holiday was being celebrated domestically in just about every house in every town and village: families were sitting out on the porch on plastic furniture, eating and drinking. And jovially hailing passing cyclists. I can now say 'We are from England! We are cycling around the island! Happy New Year!' in passable Mandarin. This is novel. Usually the first phrase I learn in a touring destination language is 'Two beers please'.



This is the Dragon Bridge at Sansiantai (pic), an eight-arch pedestrian affair across to the islands of the Three Immortals. I bet the annuity rates they were offered on their pension were even worse than mine.

Brunch was a delicious Taiwanese speciality: bao, slightly sticky bread buns with various savoury or sweet fillings.

This shop was obviously popular with locals (pic) so we joined the queue and had a couple each. (One bao cost 25 Taiwanese dollars, about 65p.)

And here's me eating one. I don't normally like putting photos of myself up, so please try to look at the bun instead.

Tim was quick off the mark taking the picture. About five seconds later there was no bun to be photographed.

But Tim was having yet more problems with his bike. In addition to broken panniers, dodgy chain, a loose rack and rear slow puncture – here temporarily reinflated thanks to another police station's bike toolkit (pic) – his back tyre was now disintegrating too.

As the day went on, and the tyre got more and more deformed and wobbly, it looked like he was riding a clown's bike.

Fortunately, once we arrived in our destination of Taitung – a city large enough to have a branch of Giant that was actually open on a holiday, if several km out of the centre – Tim managed to get his bike issues sorted.



So we went out to eat with a feeling of achievement. Our evening meals out have usually been in the Night Market, an Asian speciality: a section of street or streets is lined with stalls selling all kinds of cheap and tasty food, with tables for communal use. Taitung's (pic) is pretty typical: lively, packed, good-humoured, with maybe two or three dozen food stalls.

And, untypically, there was a stall selling beer. I can now say 'Two beers please' in Mandarin. Good job we weren't cycling back though. We've done enough wobbling today...

Miles today: 48
Miles since Fuguei: 270

Day 5: Hualien to Zhuwu

Tim's run of bad luck with the bike plumbed new depths. The back axle failed a few k outside Hualien, and he had to get a taxi back to a bike shop to sort it. I therefore rode by myself to our hostel down the coast in Zhuwu, and enjoyed a fabulous day of coast views, tailwinds, free cake and an amusingly named village.



Here's Tim (pic), still managing to smile – albeit with gritted teeth – as the copper who called us the cab looks on, and the taxi driver takes care not to trash the bike while putting it in the boot. Given all the problems he's had with the bike, Tim must have thought trashing was too good for it.



So I set off south alone, with this sort of view all the way (pic). The weather's turned just in time for Chinese New Year's Eve today: suddenly it's hot and blisteringly sunny, so it's a good job I stole Tim's sun cream. With him out of earshot, I could safely pass the time singing Matt Monro's greatest hits.

The Taiwanese are a friendly lot and always ready to chat and laugh, especially when they hear me singing Matt Monro songs.

At one of the many viewpoint stops, this chap's family fed me oolong tea and some very tasty New Year cake (pic).

I didn't realise I looked that malnourished.







Two-thirds of the way down the coast road I came through the fishing village of Shitiping, which has a scenic area, and an amusingly named port (pics).



About 2%–3% of Taiwan's population is indigenous: various groups with their own languages, very different from Chinese. This part of Taiwan is where most of the aboriginal tribal villages are to be found, and I cycled down to one of them (pic). This is the home of Amis people (a matrilineal society known for 'infectious ballads and nimble dancing') but to the casual visitor there's not much to mark them out from a conventional village.

More orange paint, perhaps. And several of those sun symbols on shops and homes. And quite a lot more beer being consumed, to judge by the liveliness of the New Year's Eve porch parties, so the dancing tonight may not be so nimble.

A few minutes later was this monument (pic), which marks the line of the Tropic of Cancer.

If you come here at June solstice, walk inside the monument, and look directly upwards exactly at midday, then you might just avoid having to look at all the coach tourists taking selfies.



Tim, having almost got his bike fixed, took a train and cycled over the junction of some continental plates to join me at our remote village hostel. Here the owners very kindly asked us to join them for New Year's Eve dinner (pic). I didn't realise Tim looked that malnourished.

We had rice, chestnuts, various vegetable dishes, pork, soups, prawns... Most of the food came from their garden, or the local port, and it was all delicious. We ate to the sound of fireworks from around the village and another guest, Kit from Taipei, helpfully translated and showed us pictures of caterpillars. It was all a bit special. Happy New Year everyone!

Miles today: 62
Miles since Fuguei: 222

Day 4: Heping to Hualien

A lovely day of coastal scenery, lots of mildly scary tunnels, the awesome Taroko Gorge, and the unusual experience of sunburn taking over from trenchfoot as the most likely health hazard.



It was all smooth, level cycling along Highway 9 today, the first half alongside lovely ocean views in the sun (pic). Lots of cars bip-bipped us in a friendly sort of way, several people waved, and we even saw several other cycle tourists – all Taiwanese, it seemed, on good road bikes, and wearing rucksacks. Clearly they know how awful Giant panniers are, too.



There were several tunnels too (pic), many a kilometre or more long, and quite breathtaking. Mainly because of the exhaust fumes of the busy traffic.



Most of the tunnels had 'no cycling' signs (pic). As this very road is National Cycling Route 1, and there are no alternative routes that don't involve the other side of the island, this puzzled us. Perhaps you're supposed to use the little service path to the side – a path not wide enough to cycle on, never mind push a bike, and you'd have to keep stepping out into the road anyway, to avoid the fire extinguishers and equipment boxes and warning signs and various obstacles blocking the path completely, such as the sign telling you there's no cycling.

We left the bikes for three hours to take a bus up the epic Taroko Gorge (pic), Taiwan's major natural attraction.

The bus was surprisingly economical, mainly because I couldn't get the driver's attention to pay.

You're supposed to wear helmets here – not to cycle, but just to walk around, because of the threat of falling rocks. Miraculously, we survived without.



The second half of today's riding, from Taroko Gorge to Hualien, was all straight, wind-assisted, and like this (pic). I know some of our readers have said there are too many pictures of Tim's back, but I couldn't catch him.

Miles today: 32
Miles since Fuguei: 161

Day 3: Luodong to Heping

The biggest climbs of the trip today (1500m in total), along 'one of the world's most dangerous roads', more equipment disasters, plus a statue made of jade, some scary tunnels, and many awesome coastal views.

We squelched out of Luodong through heavy rain, weaving between local cyclists who have perfected the art of one-handed riding, the other hand being used to hold an umbrella (pic).

Tim took this photo. I missed it because I was too busy with custard bread and coffee for breakfast in a 7 Eleven.



Our first target was the port town of Nanfang'ao, where the sailors on this squid boat evidently all cycle to work (pic). I think someone should lobby for cycle parking here.

We'd come on the recommendation of the charming Maggie, owner of our hostel last night, to see this statue in Nantian temple made entirely of jade (pic).

It's the god of the sea, Mazu, who locals pray to for a big catch and safe return.

I don't know who the god of cycle touring is, so I prayed to Mazu instead for a trouble-free ride.

Fat lot of good he did, as we soon found out...



...but before that we were amused by this set of crystal balls showing moving computer-controlled displays (pic). One evidently wasn't telling the fortune correctly. Actually, maybe it was telling my fortune all too accurately.



Anyway, to the day's main event. We cycled the Suhua Highway, a road hacked out of the cliffs along Taiwan's precipitous cliffs of the northeast coast. Rockfalls are a danger here, and there are several covered sections like this (pic). They're only a danger in rainy weather though. Like today. Oh.



We've had a request flooding in from one of our readers for more pictures of us, so here's one. We haven't seen any other non-Taiwanese at all for the last couple of days; this is off the beaten foreigner track. Locals probably think all westerners look like this. Beaten foreigners.

Our ongoing problems with rubbish panniers struck me this time. They're the ones supplied with the hire bikes, and have to use them – you're not supposed to use your own.

Problem 1 is their capacity, which is slightly more than a waistcoat pocket. Problem 2 is the clips, which have the robustness of potato crisps. One on my right pannier went, and it's now useless. We had to buy a bungee from a village store which was about twenty feet long and use it to lash the offending item to the rack (pic).

So, Mazu, you may be made of jade and weigh 600kg, but we know where not to come to pray for smooth cycling trips.

Much of the road is dangerous not in a Bolivian Death Road way – there are no unfenced sheer drops – but because of the millions of passing lorries and the presence of a four foot deep drainage ditch immediately to your right.

I had to be careful, because one lapse of concentration and the whole journey could be over in a flash. The journey that started on 3 September 1960 in Ferriby, that is.

But at least in the tunnels there was no such drainage ditch. Instead the threat here was being squashed by passing trucks (pic).



But the coastal scenery was spectacular (pic). There was quite a lot of this sort of thing, which made us exhale sharply for the right reasons.



And actually, it turned out to be a very enjoyable ride, traffic and occasional showers and looming ditch disasters notwithstanding. So we stopped near our final descent into our evening stop of Heping to give thanks at this roadside shrine, not to Mazu, who seems as useless as a Giant pannier when it comes to ensuring cycling good fortune, but to Guanyin (pic), the female bodhisattva of compassion, and functioning bike accessories.

Miles today: 45
Miles since Fuguei: 129

Day 2: Keelung to Luodong

A day of on-and-off drizzle that wasn't too bad until the last hour. Then it was bad. But with a friendly tailwind and smooth fast roads all day, it was plain sailing. (Rather too literally in that torrential last hour.) Anyway, the upshot was we got to our hostel in the lively town of Luodong by mid-afternoon. The only surprise en route was our encounter with the police...



This was the view for most of today (pic): main road running alongside the coast, usually with wide shoulders. With lots of puddles and standing water, the lack of mudguards on the hire bikes proved a problem. Nice to know we were several grams lighter, though.

Mind you, we kept getting several kilos lighter, when the panniers – held on by very flimsy clips – repeatedly fell off. One of Tim's panners no longer hangs on anyway, as the clips have snapped off. Luckily I'd brought some bungees. And jelly babies.

But there was plenty of entertainment en route. We were intrigued by this road sign (pic) for bats.

I don't know what the writing says. There were no bats to ask.



There was also this splendid tunnel, on the Caoling Railtrail (pic), part of a popular leisure cycle loop. The Taiwanese groups plying the circuit all wore plastic rain ponchos. Apparently they're wanted by the rural police. For rustling.

But we had our own encounter with the fuzz. Police stations in rural Taiwan often double as help points for cyclists, lending tools and giving directions and help with accommodation.

Tim's back tyre needed firming up, so we stopped at this village cop shop who were delighted to get out their stirrup pump. As you can see they carry guns, in case a fight kicks off between rival cyclist factions when an argument over triple chainsets versus compacts turns nasty.

But they were very friendly and asked us in for tea. I think this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened in the village.

Miles today: 60
Miles since Fuguei: 85