Taiwan's thick bush and rugged mountains are comfortingly familiar. Photo / 123RF
Said to be the home of the first Maori, Taiwan's bush-clad valleys and tribal villages feel like home to Eli Orzessek.
I'm deliriously dog paddling in a chilly rooftop pool on a cold morning, surrounded by mountains with a background soundtrack of white noise from the white water rushing down below.
It reminds me of a line in a song by one of my favourite bands, The Magnetic Fields: "Sounds like a mountain range in love". And I'm in love with this pool, this mountain range, this hotel, this town, this country.
Soaking in a thermal spring spa with hot jets of water shooting at my back is so heavenly that before I know it, I'm meditating without even trying. The manic energy I usually carry around drifts off down the river. There's a small temple up in the hills and my mind has floated away from my body and is up there, just chilling. I don't know if it will be back anytime soon.
After a couple of days in the busy, noisy streets of Taipei, I didn't expect to find such peace and quiet just a few hours away in Taroko - one of nine national parks in Taiwan, home to the marble-lined Taroko Gorge.
My home for the night is Silks Place, the only five-star hotel in Taroko National Park. The lobby smells like lemongrass and after a long day on the road with a busload of travel agents I feel at peace the second I step through the doors.
Taiwan often feels uncannily like a New Zealand in Asia. It's a small island country where the beach is an hour away, no matter where you are. Taroko is where I feel these similarities the most. The rugged mountainous landscape, the thick bush, the Pacific Ocean crashing against the coast, it's all so comfortably similar - except the mountains here are way taller.
There are plenty of bush walks to try in the areas surrounding Silks Place. We take the 2km Lushui Trail, originally a road built by Japanese police to govern indigenous tribes when Taiwan was under Japanese rule. A memorial stone from the 1930s commemorates four Japanese police officers who fell off a cliff during an uprising of the native people.
"Think back in time when you walk on the old road," a sign reads. "It will tell you all about the past."
Native camphor trees line the path and their fragrance fills the air. The Japanese Government discovered Taiwan's camphor trees could be used to make gunpowder, and in 1918 mobilised around 336,000 people for a comprehensive survey of them, finding that the 1.8 million camphor trees could produce oil for 20-30 years. Today, the original camphor forests are all gone and the ones we see were planted recently.
It's a beautiful area to walk through, made doubly interesting by its history and the scenery, which almost puts New Zealand's to shame. A sign warning of rockfalls ask us, "Please do not linger" - and there's a certain irony in that, as I just want to linger on every corner and take it all in. I take a selfie on the edge of a cliff and am astounded by my own rugged handsomeness in the rugged landscape. Perhaps that spring water is having a positive effect after all.
The indigenous culture is another area in which one can find a lot in common with New Zealand. It has been hypothesised that the Maori people originated in the valleys of Taiwan. In the tribal areas, I almost feel like I'm in Rotorua - especially with the smell of hot springs in the air.
Lalan's House is a tourist attraction and inn operated by members of the Amis tribe, the largest of the 14 officially recognised Taiwanese tribes. Lalan himself demonstrates their special fishing techniques out in the marshland and later tells us about the tribe's matriarchal culture - including the special fishing technique in which a woman can nab herself any man she wants simply by grabbing his bag. The carvings and patterns around Lalan's House further my feeling of familiarity - a lot of them wouldn't look at all out of place at a marae back home.
Lunch at Dageeli Tribe Restaurant is a real treat and we're bombarded by plate after plate of exquisite food. There's rice cooked in bamboo, a delicious whole fish encrusted in salt, fresh crunchy green beans with anchovies and chilli - it's impossible to finish everything.
The restaurant is open air and a couple of local moggies hang around for a feed and pose for photos. At the souvenir shop you can buy garments made by the tribe, authenticity confirmed by the two old ladies weaving shawls in the background. As with everything in Taiwan, it's all very reasonably priced.
After Taroko, our group moves on to Sun Moon Lake, a picturesque area popular with domestic tourists. Our guide, Jenny, tells us that Taiwanese people visit the area three times in their lives - once as a child, second when they get married and a third time when they retire. The lake gets its name from its shape, which resembles a sun and crescent moon.
I meet a stranger on the train on the way there. She observes me eating, with my headphones on, a train lunchbox with pork, rice and a tea egg - my first tea egg, actually. It's salty and flavourful. The eggs are soft-boiled, cracked, and simmered for hours in tea and spices. They're for sale everywhere, bobbing around in trays of tea at every convenience store.
I take off my headphones and the stranger starts talking to me. "You're really good with chopsticks," she says, "I was watching you. Not many Westerners are that good with chopsticks." I don't know if this is true, but I'm flattered. I've actually spilled a lot of delicious food on myself on this trip already, so really, I can't be that good.
Our first stop is Sun Moon Lake Ropeway, a cable car that lifts us high above the lake and drops us off behind a mountain at Formosan Aboriginal Culture Village.
Starting at the top of a hill, we meander through the park, which has a replica village set up for every indigenous tribe in Taiwan.
At the end of the educational content, what looks like the ultimate theme park comes into view - there's a water-bomb battleground, a giant UFO free-fall ride and a log flume. Unfortunately for my inner child, it's the middle of winter and the end of the day so I sadly walk past the rides and down to the "European Garden", where big colourful sheep statues graze in front of letters that spell out "I love lavender".
The best tea eggs are found at the Syuanguang Temple Pier, which we visit on a cruise around the lake. They're marinated with mushrooms and a special blend of tea and spices. Apparently more than 1000 a day are sold - which is believable, given the long line of mainland Chinese tourists waiting to buy them.
China and Taiwan have a long and complicated history, but mainlanders still make up the bulk of the tourism industry here. One visitor tells me they like to come to Taiwan to get away from the pollution back home. They've even got cute names for each other. Taiwan, due to its distinctive shape is known as "sweet potato", while the much larger China is nicknamed "taro".
Somehow, the relationship even reminds me a bit of New Zealand and Australia - and I feel right at home here on this island that's shaped like a kumara.
CHECKLIST
Getting there: China Airlines flies to Taipei from Auckland seven days a week, with a refuelling stop in Sydney. It also flies three days a week from Christchurch from October 27 until March 28.
Further information: You can find out about Formosan Aboriginal Cultural Village, Dageeli Tribe Restaurant and other local features at eng.taiwan.net.tw.
The writer travelled courtesy of China Airlines and the Taiwan Tourism Bureau.
The chef chats to Herald Travel about unforgettable foodie experiences in Aotearoa.