We took the train half way around Taiwan from Chia Yi to Taitung, ready to catch the morning ferry to Lanyu, or as briefly mentioned in selected guide books, Orchid Island. It took us three hours on a rocking ferry to reach the island.
On the first sight I thought: “This is where they shot the series Lost!” With it being a volcanic island, there is only one black sand beach, the rest of the jungle-green coastline disappearing into the waves. I couldn’t wait to see what waits for me under those waters.
Upon arrival my cousin, Hanna, told me that she and her boyfriend, Vuyo, would not be able to stay in a hotel after she lost a NT$1000-note the previous day.
“We’ll just sleep under a bridge or something,” was her reply. “It is summer after all.”
I decided the hell with it. I haven’t camped in ages and would love to sleep under the stars. With this in mind, I did keep a wary eye on the monsoon clouds lurking on the horizon.
We rented two scooters to explore the island and look for a place to stay. With only one paved road around the island it was easy enough to navigate, but soon we realized it’s actually far bigger than anyone anticipated.
We looked at abandoned houses and found the goats had moved in; we looked under a bridge and realized the oncoming rain clouds would wash us away; we looked for a flat patch of grass and found none.
Things were looking pretty dim when we reached a small town, three-quarters around the island. My cousin spotted a wooden shack next to the road and immediately slammed on the breaks, almost sending me like Superman over her shoulder.
“Can we sleep here tonight?” she boldly asked in Chinese to the man behind the open window.
“Sure, I’ll just get the owner, but I don’t think she’ll have a problem” was his laid-back reply. I stood in wonder as this scenario unfolded.
A few minutes later a tiny middle-aged woman arrived on her scooter with her trusty Jack Russell at her feet. “Yes, no problem,” she says as she gets off. “But there’s nothing inside – you will have to sleep on the floor.”
Being the best and only real option we have, we gladly accepted it. We rode back to the ferry terminal to get our luggage. With a big cooler box, a backpack, a daypack, two camera bags, a fishing rod, a snorkeling set, and a few bottles of water between the scooters, we set off on a snail’s pace.
The shack was actually pretty amazing: it was barely a 100 meters from the shore, with nothing but shrubs between us and the water. It had two rooms: although stripped bare, the one was big enough for the three of us to squeeze in like sardines. The smaller room had a door where we could change. The windows had no glass, only wooden flaps which stayed open with a stick stuck between the edge and the frame. We had a view over the whole bay and could watch the local fishermen in their traditional hand carved boats going out. Spectacular.
Just as I was pondering probability of this soon-to-be karaoke bar (yes that’s the owner’s idea with the wooden shack!!) actually being rain proof, the first monsoon clouds burst open right over our heads. But the brand new shack stood proud and dry.
That night when we returned after our snorkeling expedition, the locals were waiting for us with fresh caught fish, octopus, beer and some liquor, similar to soju, which was mixed with Sprite and tin of canned fruit to make a lethal punch. My cousin’s boyfriend, Vuyo, immediately started the fire for the barbeque in the wheel rim they brought us. But it wasn’t very long and the monsoon clouds had made a full circle around the island and found us again. Luckily the locals were prepared and within an instance put up a beach umbrella over the fire and continued as if nothing is happening. Ten minutes later everything cleared up and we had our feast.
The next day my cousin and I did a round-the-island snorkel- and photo-hop. Armed with a lot of sun screen (which probably got washed off within the first downpour), our snorkels, cameras and a wonderful sense of total isolation, we left Vuyo to his fishing rod.
That evening, back at the shack, we were heartily greeted by the locals, already waiting for us with more octopus, sea snails, lobster and fish. With another feast and great company, even though we had huge communication gaps, it was a night to remember.
The last day I got my scuba dives in. Actually, I don’t want to tell you about the amazing 30m visibility. Or the different kinds of hard corals, some the size of my apartment, stretching from a depth of 12m all the way to the surface, creating whole forests of coral pillars. I don’t want to talk about the vast amount of small and big schools of fish, the amazing colors, the abundance of sea snakes, the countless Nemo fish hiding in the long fingers of soft coral. I don’t even want to mention the fact that as soon as you step from the rock into the water, you are walking on coral. All still amazingly in tact, colorful and unexplored. I don’t want to tell you all this, because I am afraid Taiwan’s hidden gem will not stay hidden for long.
But when you you’ve discovered a piece of heaven, you tend to share it. Even if it’s only to a select few people you know would appreciate the island’s beauty (above and under water), the isolation, the local tribesmen and their ancient culture. Lanyu, may you keep your secret well hidden.
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