Day 2: Toucheng 頭城 > Jiaosi 礁溪
Stay: Jiaosi Hostel
I wake up early, planning to take a short bike ride from Toucheng over to Jiaosi. There's something peaceful about Toucheng. It's a very small town, and feels very old-Chinese; tucked away in the countryside. My hostel is situated in the outskirts and there are paddy fields everywhere, and it's quiet. In the morning, it's even more quiet and calm.
I get up early, and pack my pannier bags, getting ready to leave. As I'm strapping my bags in, a man who's sitting on the chair outside, relatively young, asks me where I'm going. I tell him Jiaosi for some hiking and hot springs, to which he smiles and says, "Good choice". I asked him if he always gets up this early, and he tells me he's just been surfing in Wai'Ao (外澳) (the beach town not too far off). It's 07:00, which means he must've been up since 04:00 or so. It's his first time, he says, and he says he's hooked on it. Getting up early and into the waves says gives him a rush of energy like he's never felt. He radiated that happiness - smiling, and friendly, as I'd come to know on the road.
He asks me where my friend is, and I tell him I'm traveling alone. He's a bit surprised I'm doing alone, but proceeds to keep the conversation going by talking about his wife and kid. He says that they own a shop together and take turns taking vacations around Taiwan -- something I found cute. He asks me to stop by his house -- a genuine invitation -- when I pass by Taichung, and says he would love to introduce me to his wife. A few smiles are exchanged, and a bit about our background, but not much else. He doesn't pry either. He asks for my LINE and says, before parting, "Hey, I mean it! When you get to Taichung, do hit me up!"
I wanted to spend a day at the hotsprings in Jiaosi, but they ended up being closed. I change the itinerary and spent the day hiking to a small waterfall first, and then upwards towards a mausoleum at the top of the mountain instead. First, the hike:
Big mistake to go hike. As I'm walking back, the heavens open and it begins to pour. I'm soaked all the way through, and all of my things that I parked at the entrance were also probably wet. But, there's not much to do at this point, what's wet is wet. By the time I get back, the fruit stall uncles and aunties had graciously brought my bike under the cover of their stall. I chatted with them for a bit and bought some fruits for the road, and they'd sent some for me on my way. I asked them how difficult it is if I bike up to the mausoleum and they'd said it'd be easy, and that I'd be able to handle it. I set off in the light rain.
I think the old people overestimated my ability. Not only was my bike not sleek or light enough to climb the hill, I was weighted down by the two bags that clipped to the back tires. Anytime I tried to stand and pedal, the bike would just tip backwards as if I were doing a wheelie. What ended up being a 10 kilometer climb to the top was a mix of biking and walking, in various intervals of rain and shine. It was my first challenge up the hill.
I was so jealous of all the cars passing by. They'd cruised up so easily. Shortly after, a bunch of kids on scooters also rode up to the top enjoying themselves, while I was alone. It was excruciating exerting every push further up the mountain; a test of my tenacity. Sometimes I'd fail to pedal and proceed to walk, but each step was one step closer.
Near the top, I saw a farmer who had made it up there by foot. He was collecting some corn in the fields and had a huge bag that he was carrying around. He'd seen that I was struggling so he stopped and chatted. He said "Oh man, you have all the wrong things to climb this hill! Your bike is too big, your bags are too big. You should be able to do it otherwise!" is what he said. He then talked a bit about his corn that he was harvesting, and told me that I had just about 2 more kilometers to the top, and that I was close. 加油, he said -- add oil. Again, I could hear that so many times in a day and never get tired of it. Right then, it was the most comforting thing to hear.
When I saw the mausoleum in the distance, that feeling of approaching was relief. I saw most of the people who had gone up by car and scooter up there as well. It was quiet since it had just been raining. I climbed to the peak where you could take a picture at the tip of a rock that looked like a potato chip. I didn't bother asking people to take one for me, but when I got to the top and I looked down at Jiaosi I thought to myself:
This is a nice city.