Hopping on the Alishan Forest Railway to kick off our family trip.
Early that morning, we set out from Taichung. Our trusty driver was already waiting at the pickup spot. When he saw us, he smiled and waved, saying, "I'm taking you up the mountain to see the sea of clouds today!"
That single sentence instantly filled us with excitement for our Alishan day trip.
To be honest, almost every time I visit Taiwan, I make sure to stop by Taichung. The city doesn't have the hustle and bustle of Taipei or the noise of popular tourist traps. Instead, it offers a perfectly balanced slice of everyday life.
But most importantly, my best friend, Pinhui, lives here.
On our first night in Taichung, Pinhui and her husband, De, threw us a warm welcome dinner. They took us to a low-key little Taiwanese restaurant—it wasn't big, but it was packed with regulars.
Even before we sat down, the air was already thick with the mouth-watering aromas of sizzling stir-fries and savory soy sauce. Knowing the menu like the back of her hand, she ordered a table full of signature dishes: plump and juicy goose, highly aromatic three-cup chicken, and plate after plate of fresh seafood.
The three-cup chicken was the real star—the scent of Thai basil mingling with sesame oil and savory sauce was irresistible. When it arrived at the table piping hot, we all practically dove in with our chopsticks at the exact same time.
The sheer joy of catching up with good friends and digging into great food makes you realize that the true meaning of travel isn't just about the sights you see—it's about the people you share a meal with.
The next day, we officially kicked off our Alishan adventure. Joining us on this leg was Avy, someone we’d crossed paths with on a previous trip to Mount Fuji in Japan. I guess that's the beauty of life—you never know if someone you bumped into halfway across the world might just show up in another country, on an entirely new journey.
As we made our way from the lowlands up into the mountains, the scenery outside the window slowly transformed. High-rises faded away, replaced by rolling tea plantations, mountain mist, and winding roads.
Our driver played classic Taiwanese oldies the whole way up, occasionally chiming in to share little anecdotes about the mountains. The entire ride felt as laid-back and easygoing as a road trip with old friends.
When we arrived at Alishan, the mountain air was thick with the scent of damp, earthy wood. Taking a deep breath felt like a total cleanse for the soul. We hopped onto the iconic forest railway, the vintage carriages chugging slowly through the dense woods. The rhythmic rocking of the old train gave us the surreal feeling of traveling back in time.
Sunlight filtered down through the towering fir trees, and occasionally, we'd catch glimpses of mist drifting through the forest. It was as beautiful as a scene straight out of a movie.
By noon, we made a beeline for the highly anticipated railway bento. There was a massive line out the door of the bento shop. Almost every tourist in Alishan had one in hand—it was so bustling, it felt like some sort of obligatory tourist ritual.
Popping open the lid, the aroma of the braised pork rib and side dishes definitely gave off that nostalgic Taiwan Railway vibe. But to be brutally honest, once I finished it, my verdict was: "Hmm... not quite as mind-blowing as I thought it would be."
But then I thought about it—maybe people aren't just eating it for the taste. It’s more about the quintessential "when in Alishan, you just gotta try it" travel experience. After all, there's that universal golden rule of traveling:
"We're already here, might as well!"
So, no matter how long the line is, everyone is more than happy to grab a bento, snap some photos, and check in on social media. It's almost as if you haven't truly been to Alishan if you skip this meal.
However, the real surprise for me was the donuts that were ranked as a "must-eat" in this mountain town.
We originally just bought them on a whim as we were walking by. But man, that first bite—slightly crispy on the outside, incredibly fluffy and soft on the inside. The subtle sweetness of the powdered sugar was spot on, and it had that fresh, warm bakery aroma.
That kind of simple, pure deliciousness actually left a way deeper impression on me than the railway bento did.
Later, we headed over to Longyin Temple and checked out the romantically named Eternity Suspension Bridges (Tianchang Dijiu Bridges).
During the trip, I couldn't help but ask the group, "What do you guys think is the biggest difference between Japan and Taiwan?"
My cousin Xue, who’s a bit of a neat freak, instantly furrowed her brows and said, "Japan is definitely way cleaner. Night markets and mountain towns in Taiwan often have this certain smell, kind of like a sewer."
We all cracked up at that.
She wasn't wrong, though. In some of the older districts in Taiwan, you do occasionally catch a whiff of dampness mixed with the drainage system.
It's likely because these cities developed earlier, so some of the sewage infrastructure is a bit outdated. But the funny thing is, these little quirks don't make you dislike Taiwan at all.
Because the true charm of Taiwan has never been about spotlessly clean streets—it's all about that deep, genuine warmth and hospitality (Renqingwei).
You remember the auntie at the breakfast spot giving you an extra scallion pancake on the house; you remember the driver looking out for you the whole ride; you remember your friends constantly piling food onto your plate so you wouldn't go hungry; and you remember grabbing a random cup of milk tea at a convenience store late at night and finding out it’s ridiculously good.
And true to form, we didn't pack our itinerary too tightly for this trip. No rushing between attractions, no pressure to hit all the trendy photo spots. The main vibe was just "eating, drinking, and absolute milk tea freedom."
After heading back to Taichung that night, we met up for dinner once again. This time, we hit up Din Tai Fung near the Shin Kong Mitsukoshi department store.
Not too long ago, a gas explosion at the mall had forced the entire department store to close for quite some time. We happened to catch it right after its grand reopening this year, and it was so bustling—like the city had completely regained its vitality.
When the steaming hot xiaolongbao (soup dumplings) hit the table, the vapor instantly fogged up my glasses. Suddenly, this really magical feeling washed over me—
What makes traveling so wildly addictive isn't just the places you go. It's the people you laugh with, eat with, and just sit and talk with. They’re the ones who turn a completely ordinary moment into something that, even years down the line, will still shine brightly in your memory.