November 17, 2025

A deafening roar erupts in the early hours of the morning, not only intense but also prolonged. The ground isn’t shaking, so it’s not an earthquake. Are we under attack? The noise dissipates, then returns. I later read that there is an Air Force base in Hualien, and that they regularly fly sorties from the base; judging by how loud it was, they must be flying very powerful jets and quite low.

I’m considering visiting Taroko National Park today but am not clear where to go, what trails to take, or how to make an optimal visit in the remaining time of the day. When I review the map to try and get a sense of where specific trails in the park are, the trails all appear as closed. Apparently, due to the major earthquake that took place in April, 2024 as well as subsequent typhoons, the infrastructure of the park was damaged and the risk of rockfalls, mudslides, and floods amplified to the extent that most of the park was closed, particularly on the eastern end.

Great — the publication date of my travel guide is 2024, meaning that the information contained therein dates back at least a year; the motive for visiting this town is primarily the opportunity of hiking in Taroko National Park, and that has just vanished. At least Hualien is a reasonably-sized city with other lesser attractions and a quality environment, but imagine if this was just a small, inconsequential town — I would have prebooked a period of time that would have been entirely wasted.

The owner of my bed and breakfast tells me that I can visit the entrance to the park, as it offers scenic views. I am considering traveling by bus to the entrance — apparently the tourist bus still runs to the entrance — then visiting the nearby town of Xincheng, and walking back in the direction of Hualien, at least for a portion of the route, as it is quite a distance from the city. The attraction of the area is that is apparently mostly beach. But first, I will visit the Jiang Jun Fu 1936 zone in town that the owner of the coffee shop raved about yesterday.

Venturing forth, the day is sunny and quite warm, although the clouds on the horizon threaten to move in, and there is some likelihood of rain for the remainder of the day. On the block to the immediate south of the street I am housed on is apparently an eatery that serves squid noodle soup that the owner of the place I am staying highly recommended — perhaps I should give that a try. Small eateries often specialize in a single item or a specific set of items that limits the amount of work and financial outlay required. The squid soup is exceptional, another great find, the bowl laden with thick rings of not excessively chewy squid (indicating freshness), squash, finely chopped scallion, garlic, fish balls, and garlic, rich in taste and consistency, the ingredients obviously quite fresh as well.

I would like to visit some of the other coffee shops that I had seen on the map in the area, but as I trudge along the streets neighboring my bed and breakfast, they are mostly nonexistent or shuttered. Another strike against Google Map. However, a few blocks further along from the squid soup restaurant, I find Cuore, a relatively large wood-and-glass paneled bungalow that services a wide range of coffees, including many pour overs, the interior immaculate in its presentation, simple, with clean lines, functional but very elegant.

I speak at length with the older couple that decided to invest themselves fully into the specialized coffee métier, the man abandoning his IT career and committing to his wife’s passionate embrace of coffee. However, looking around the establishment, as noble as their efforts and the quality of their coffee may be, I question whether they make a living from their efforts. I am the only customer; drinking pour over coffees is perhaps not the most popular calling, and spending NT$600 – 800 (CAD $30 – 40) on 200 g baggies of single origin coffee may seem difficult to comprehend for the average person.

The neighborhood looks innocuous enough from a distance, but it is obviously a wealthy enclave, what with the state of maintenance of housing, the degree of cleanliness, the quality of presentation of storefronts, and the quality of goods being sold.

Next to the squid soup establishment, a store selling jewelry made of local precious stones, at largely prohibitive prices, more eateries, including vegetarian ones that are so popular here, restaurants in luxuriant settings offering suites of choice meat cuts and seafood at generous prices, and at the western end, the entrance to the Pine Garden, the pizza place and fermented tofu establishment that happily does not reek as badly today.

Descending the mosaic-lined embankment lining Zhongzheng road as it arcs toward the Hualien river, then continues into the city, I cross over and descend a staircase to the bank of the river, a surprisingly pleasant and solitary green space in the midst of a busy urban space, two walkways following the course of the river, one immediately next to the water and the other on an elevated boardwalk.

I trudge along the raised flagtone-paved promenade following the contour of the river toward the Jiang Jun Fu 1936 enclave. Set in a bend of the river, the site was a Japanese military camp and dormitory that was abandoned following the occupation, and in recent decades rehabilitated into a tastefully-landscaped set of fashionable arts and crafts stores and eateries. As with similar establishments, the knickknacks sold in the stylish interiors of the historic wooden bungalows are high both on the momentarily cute factor as well as the price point, intended to capture the imagination and pocketbook of the unwary and distracted visitor. Similarly, many of the eateries offer conventional fare at inflated prices, although of course the setting is spectacular, the arrangement of trees, shrubbery, flowers, and ponds in the grassy enclave superlative, reminiscent of a traditional garden environment you’d find in Japan — although the landscaping could actually replicate the original Japanese gardening.

I would like to catch a bus to the entrance of the Taroko National Park, and believe that the buses pass along Zhongzheng road, at least according to the Google Map, but something doesn’t seem right here. I try and parse out what the issues are: in general, the bus information shown on Google Map isn’t correct, and that would apply to the bus lines in operation and their departure times. The stop at the side of Jiang Jun Fu 1936 isn’t even shown on the map, and according to the signs posted, only buses circulating in the city core stop here.

On the downtown side of the bridge, on the other hand, there is a stop that is on the map as well, except that there are buses listed on the map that don’t appear on the placards and electronic display at the stop — and vice versa. There are several buses shown on the LED display that are allegedly going to Taroko park and about to arrive — but never do. I was originally not going to take the 310 due to the wait, but have spent so much time trying to figure out the bus service that the 310 becomes the convenient — although it’s probably only choice.

Then the next problem arises — Taroko National Park is far away and going to the park by road means endless slowdowns due to traffic, never mind the continual digressions to touristic attractions. The other challenge with the buses arises, and that is that the bus follows a trajectory that doesn’t correspond to the map. How frustrating! We pass the Stone Sculpture Museum, circle the port, then continue into the large green space to the east of the port with various attractions. It may be worth returning here tomorrow, as I don’t think time will permit on today’s excursion. The park looks like an attractive walking area and seems to connect with the beaches running along the coast to the north. Today would be ideal for a long beach walk, but who knows what tomorrow’s weather will bring!

On the long trip north toward the park, the bus first drives some distance inland, then along the highway running northeastward toward the coast, to the outlying fragments of the Xincheng township lying along the Liwu river that runs through the Taroko National Park. The sky is now overcast and the light low, and given how slowly we are proceeding, it may not be advantageous to go all the way to the entrance of the national park, but to get off in the Xincheng township and explore what apparently is an attractive historic town.

The overarching visual power of the landscape we pass through is set by the towering cliffs to the west, enshrouded in a thick cloud cover that would imply that even if I could enter the park and hike to higher elevations, it would be fairly useless, given the lack of visibility, never mind the higher likelihood of rain, of which there seems to be a far lower risk on the plains flowing into the sea, at least thus far.

I am only moments into Xincheng, and it becomes obvious that the town is far from compelling, its attractiveness rooted in its diminutive scale and dramatic setting. Onto the dyke that protects the land from the sea, the cloud cover achieves a far more nuanced palette, billowing shades of lighter and darker grey painted onto the brighter swaths of the horizon, and to the immediate east, the sky is far brighter, the white cumulus cotton batting stretched across the luminous horizon.

Two lone individuals dangle fishing lines into the frothing surf crashing along the rocky shore below, the relatively level expanse below suggesting that at higher tide, little of the rocky debris would be visible — and hence that I should also walk as quickly as possible to the edge of the Liwu river, keeping in mind that the stray dogs barking at me at a distance may not have harmless intentions. This may not be Sri Lanka, but there are a lot of stray dogs, and not all benign.

Closer to the river, a vista of the outflow of mountains from Taroko National Park opens up before me, the languid wide river a deep steel grey in the fading afternoon light, the cliffs lining the coastal plane shrouded in cloud as I had already seen on the trip north. Back on long trek along the paths leading through the scrub into town, my fear being aggressive dogs suddenly making an appearance, but that fortunately only happens once I have cleared the overgrown green that surrounds Xincheng. I can imagine that there are other less than benign creatures lurking in the wilderness, given that this environment is both very wild and also fecund.

The next challenge — getting back to Hualien, and it will be either by bus or by train. The train station is at some distance, but the train will offer a much quicker journey relative to the bus, although the bus stop is far closer, and in the town centre. The core of the township is nothing more than a few inviting restaurants on sprawling grounds, a few dogs and locals roaming the street, most of the houses dark, the town immersed in an overall sense of comfort, a great place to spend more time and forget about the rest of the world, although that isn’t what I have planned at the moment.

Reviewing the schedule for the 310 bus, I realize that I would have to wait 40 minutes for the next bus — perhaps I should consider taking the train! The next train to Hualien leaves in 20 minute, and despite the very brisk walk over the 10 or so blocks, I only make it to the station with a few minutes to spare, never mind the additional time required to rush through the underground passage and up to the platform as the train is already arriving. I careen from the platform into one of the cars and throw myself onto a comfortable seat, thanking my lucky stars!

The train station neighborhood of Hualien is not particularly romantic, but lively enough, with budget-friendly hotels for travelers and abundant spacious, well-lit eateries for people on the go. I have nothing particular in mind, but would like a dinner that is palatable and not particularly expensive, and a spacious shabu shabu place I pass by is just the thing. I am given a tureen full of chopped cabbage, squash, lettuce, fish balls, shrimp, tofu, tofu skin, Thai basil and so on, help myself to condiments to spice up the broth, and a plate of sliced beef, which is the foundation of the stew. The concoction is a success, and even the ice cream is excellent! Another day wraps up; outside, I wait at the busy intersection for a taxi, as the bus service has just finished for the day …