AmCham arrow Publications arrow Topics Archive arrow Topics Archive 2008 arrow Vol.38- No.5 arrow New Lonely Planet Taiwan: An Improvement but Still Disappointing
New Lonely Planet Taiwan: An Improvement but Still Disappointing PDF Print E-mail
The latest edition of the travel guide gives short shrift to some of the island's top attractions, and ultimately fails to help the tourist get the most out of the Taiwan experience.

BY BRENT HANNON The latest edition of the travel guide gives short shrift to some of the island's top attractions, and ultimately fails to help the tourist get the most out of the Taiwan experience.

BY BRENT HANNON

 Aficionados of Taiwan - and there are more of them than you might think - have waited a long time for a good Lonely Planet guide to their favorite island. Unfortunately, their wait will continue, because once again, the latest version of the famous guidebook falls short of expectations. That's a shame, because Lonely Planet, for better or for worse, is the gold standard of guidebooks. It helps create lasting impressions about travel destinations, those vague but powerful images that stir the souls of would-be travelers. And Taiwan's image, travel-wise, has never been all that good. Its image is out of synch with reality - Taiwan is actually a very worthy travel destination - but this book will do little to change that.

Lonely Planet Taiwan is composed of two parts: essays and text boxes about items of interest, and "places" sections that cover attractions and amenities. Both parts are uneven, with some good information and some that is not so good, but the places sections are better overall, and certainly more thorough, than the essays. The essays leave out far too much, and that neglect is one of the key weaknesses of the book.

Many of the features that make Taiwan what it is - basketball, baseball, betel nuts, pigeon racing, scuba diving, and kaoliang liquor, to name just a few - are dealt with either briefly or not at all. There is little discussion of geology or earthquakes, and nothing about dissident-politician Shi Ming-de or filmmaker Ang Lee. Bird-watching and high-mountain hiking are given only a few perfunctory paragraphs, and the whole topic of folk religion, a key aspect of life in modern Taiwan, is dismissed in less than a page.

Instead, the reader gets odd digressions about obscure musical groups, a foreign magician, Core Pacific mall, a former girlfriend of one of the writers, and so on. There is even a very juvenile essay devoted to, of all things, dog feces in Puli. Surely that space could have been better used for something else.

The essays are not without merit. Some are good - a nice section about the friendliness of the Taiwanese people, for example, and some good observations about cultural compassion. The box about Taipei's mishmash of romanized spellings, called Spelling Decoder, is lots of fun and plenty useful, and there are others like it. There is also some breadth: the authors write about the Lantern Festival, the beehive rockets at Yanshuei, the Matzu pilgrimage, Chung Tai Chan monastery, the new Hsuehshan tunnel, the year-end weiya banquets, the Ju Ming museum, and some other topics. But overall there is too much obscure fluff and not enough real substance.

There are other problems as well. In places, the book has an insiders-only tone that makes it feel more like a high school yearbook or teenage web log, rather than a comprehensive country guide. It sometimes reads like was written for friends, not the traveling public, and that soon gets annoying. An awful lot of navel-gazing goes on in these pages as well: first-person anecdotes about the authors and their experiences, most of which don't reveal much about Taiwan. By taking center stage, the authors too often push Taiwan into the background.

The book also lacks consistent enthusiasm for Taiwan's top attractions. The writers are not always able to muster much passion for the best places they visit, and as a result they capture only a portion of the island's magic. Nobody reading the guide would conclude that Taiwan has much to offer. This makes a sharp contrast to the recent Lonely Planet China (2007), in which the mainland is depicted in flowing, sweeping superlatives. China is epic, it is a colossus, it has wonderful diversity, the cities fizz, the skylines are triumphant, the dishes of Sichuan are volcanic, and so on. Granted, Taiwan doesn't compare to China tourism-wise in terms of scale or variety. But it does have its trump cards: Taiwan has better food, better temples, and better night markets than China. You could argue that Taiwan has better food, temples, and night markets than any other country in Asia. So it sure seems like Lonely Planet could have presented them that way.

Taiwan's travel infrastructure is also light years ahead of China's, and well ahead of most other countries in the region, another bonus that is little advertised by Lonely Planet.

The authors do show flashes of enthusiasm, but they aren't consistent; sometimes they like world-class attractions, and sometimes they like odd little items of no apparent significance. A number of highlights get the deadpan treatment, including the National Palace Museum, the High-Speed Rail, Kenting, and the Suao-Hualien highway.

Panning the Palace Museum

The National Palace Museum, in fact, gets panned. "The museum's interior is poorly lit, and for the most part its grand collection is laid out with little sense of scheme or design, giving the museum a stagnant feel overall. This is especially strange in light of the fact that the exhibits are rotated frequently; the vast collection (much of it liberated from mainland China during the last retreat of the KMT), is far too large to exhibit at any given time. Nonetheless, the sheer volume and beauty of the museum's treasures still makes (sic) it a must visit."

There is more about the museum, but that is the general tone. Taiwan's top attraction, one of the greatest art collections ever compiled, is dismissed like a famous but mediocre restaurant, and the endorsement at the end is lukewarm at best. It is true that the building and the displays don't match the glory of the artworks, but that is not the point. The artworks are the point. When pieces from the National Palace collection travel overseas, huge crowds flock to see them. Residents of Taipei are lucky to have the museum on their doorstep, and visitors are lucky to have a chance to view its unrivalled collection. The National Palace Museum is a blessing - it's that simple.

Meanwhile, in the next paragraph, the Shung Ye Museum of Formosan Aborigines, which is newer but relatively uninspired and almost always empty, is given a comparatively warm review.

Similarly, one of the authors hikes across the central mountain range, but the essay is devoted almost entirely to the grumpiness of his hiking companion. But why? Taiwan's high mountains are magnificent. The alpine parklands of Chi Lai Ridge, Tapachienshan, Yushan, Hsuehshan, and the others are among the island's genuine treasures. Yes, they're hard to get to, but it's a paradise up there - beautiful, dramatic, and remote. Yet the high mountains get little love from Lonely Planet. This hot-and-cold approach leaves the reader without any real guidance. A casual visitor, Lonely Planet in hand, would have little idea what to do or see in Taiwan. Sightseeing in Taiwan is a hit-and-miss affair - there are some world-class sights, and there are also some duds. It is the responsibility of a guidebook to rank the attractions. Which ones are the best? Which ones are just okay, and which ones are over-rated?

Let's take a quick stab at this. You would be crazy to miss Taroko Gorge, and only a real philistine would skip the National Palace Museum. You would want to see a handful of temples, and visit a night market or two. You would certainly eat some good Chinese food, and if time allowed, go for a hike in the high mountains and take a ride on the high-speed rail. Those are the honest-to-God, can't-miss, world-beating attractions.

After that, there would be a number of quirkier, more personal choices. These might include the Southeast Coast; Yangmingshan, Danshuei, and Bali; one or two of the outlying islands; maybe the Alishan Forest Railway; a cross-island highway or two; and a couple of Taiwan's trademark museums (Museum of World Religions in Taipei, Shihsanhang Museum of Archaeology in Bali, Ju Ming Museum on the north coast, and National Museum of Marine Biology and Aquarium in Kenting).

All those options have a great deal to offer, and so do the best of the hot springs (Jaurih on Green Island, Tianlai on Yangmingshan, the Jhihben Valley near Taitung, and if you can afford it, Villa 32 in Beitou). You might add a Hakka village, ideally Meinong, and maybe one of the giant, outlandish Buddhist monasteries, either Foguangshan near Kaohsiung, Dharma Drum in Taipei County, or Chung Tai Chan in Nantou County. For a very Taiwanese dining experience, there is the delicious and atmospheric Chichin island seafood strip on the Kaohsiung waterfront.

A history buff might also wish to make a list of historic attractions. This could include the Democracy Memorial Hall and the Sun Yat-sen Memorial; the Human Rights Monument and abandoned dissidents' prison on Green Island; the old forts and colonial relics in Tainan, Keelung, and Dansheui; the old mining towns of Jiufen and Jinguashi; the Caoling Historical Trail; and maybe the Bashian caves or another prehistoric sight. If you like Qing-era history, you would add a walking tour of Lugang or Tainan.

Then there are the over-rated attractions. Sun Moon Lake is one, and the sunrise at Alishan, unless you are too infirm to hike or drive into the mountains, is another. Taipei 101 is only so-so, and Kenting is a personal call - some love it, and some don't. The pottery village of Yingge, the tea hills of Mucha, the bamboo forest at Hsitou, and the big white Buddha and surrounding sights at Baguashan, are all very underwhelming.

Rankings like these are of course subjective, and their merits can be argued until the sun comes up. But the exercise is valid, and in a guidebook it is absolutely necessary. Because how else would a reader know what to see? The authors are the guides, and these are their best recommendations. Lonely Planet Taiwan never really accomplishes that task.

Good on the nuts and bolts

Aside from that, the places sections are generally good, especially the chapters about the east coast. Overall, the book does a decent job of covering the nuts and bolts of Taiwan, as it trudges the length and breadth of the island, paragraph by paragraph, in time-honored Lonely Planet style. The book works hard to catalogue these places, and it faithfully compiles its lists of hostels, restaurants, bus stations, train lines, Chinese-study programs, useful websites, holiday periods, and so on, along with all the attractions, big and small.

They did find, for example, the quirky but worthy Pei Kuan Resort (a crab museum near Ilan), the new Tea Museum in Pinglin, and the excellent Miaokou ("Temple Entrance") open-air food street in Keelung. Those are not exactly on the beaten path. They climbed aboard three of the four branch rail lines - Pinghsi in Taipei County, Chichi in Nantou County, and the Ali-shan Forest Railway - and not many people can say that. The book rightly praises the newly renovated Zushi Temple in Sansia, Taipei County, and it takes note of the tourist-friendly changes that have refreshed and revitalized the city of Kaohsiung in the past few years. The reader learns that Wunshan hot springs in Taroko Gorge is closed, which is a shame, as the authors note, and some of the essay boxes are interesting and timely as well, such as the note on Hsuehshan tunnel.

They also uncover hidden gems like the Dulan Sugar Factory on Highway 11 on the southeast coast, about 20 kilometers north of Taitung. "The Dulan Sugar Factory, a once-busy processing plant, was shut down in the 1990s. Local artisans and craftspeople began to use the abandoned warehouse space for makeshift studios, and soon a genuine local arts scene developed, which continues to develop and gain in reputation. Every Saturday night, there is live music on a driftwood-framed stage. Both Taiwanese and foreign musicians can be seen playing, and the event attracts people from all over the island." That sounds like fun.

The authors also delve deeply into a couple of less than obvious subjects: Penghu and hot springs. On these topics, the book is pretty exhaustive, but why not? There's even a bit of hyperbole here - Penghu is compared with Hawaii. Such welcome flashes of enthusiasm pop up elsewhere in these pages as well. They like Danshuei, for instance, along with the Baiyang Falls trail in Taroko Gorge, the Taiwan Museum of Art in Taichung, the Alishan Forest Railway that begins in Chiayi, and quite a few other attractions.

In addition, the authors are honest about the west coast. "While there are some real treasures out there, there's also a lot of dismal wasteland. In general, the cities can be given a miss except as jumping-off points.... forget the miles of coastline unless you like styrofoam, cables, plastic and - you get the picture." That is certainly good advice; there's no point sugarcoating this part of Taiwan.

They do dismiss some stops that many travelers might find interesting: Bashian caves for example, on the southeast coast. These seaside caves were inhabited for at least 10,000 years, and the area has excellent ocean views and a nice new museum as well. They also don't like the Taipei bar district nicknamed the "Combat Zone," Hualien, the Jhihben Valley, and some other places. Indeed, when writing about the Combat Zone, they sound like Old Testament prophets preaching hellfire on the city walls. But those are minor quibbles. Everyone is entitled to his own opinion about such things. More serious is the lack of useful information about three of Taiwan's foremost attractions: night markets, mountain trekking, and Chinese cuisine. The writers seem to have little interest in Chinese cookery. The list of Taipei restaurants is not meant to be comprehensive, but many of the choices are pedestrian and unhelpful. All the old warhorses are here: Capone's, Grandma Nitti's, Din Tai Fung, Hooter's, and some other usual suspects. They do cite the Celestial (northern cuisine) and Green Leaf (Taiwanese), both worthy picks, and a handful of other Chinese restaurants, but that's about it. Surely they could have compiled a better list, perhaps by talking to a few people. Here are some possible candidates: Xiao Wei (Sichuan food), Do it True (northern), Shao Shao Ke (Shanxi), Lan Lao Lao (Shanghainese), Emei (Sichuan), Chopstix (Zhejiang - Jiangsu), Pengjia Yuan (Cantonese), and so on. These places are local, but they are excellent, reasonable, and authentic. Given that authentic Chinese cuisine is one of Taiwan's blazing highlights, more effort could have been made in this regard.

There is also not much detail about the island's famous snack food. Most visitors will stroll through a night market, and more advice could have been provided, especially as to what a visitor should eat. Some of the items are pretty easy to identify, and most people know their way around the grilled squid, grilled corn, pot-stickers, fried noodles, shish kebabs, and so on. But the really ethnic, native Taiwanese items could have used an introduction: oyster omelet, grass jelly, wheat gluten, the luwei stews, duck tongues, stinky tofu, and so on.

As for mountain hikes, the book covers Jade Mountain in some detail, but says precious little about the others: Tapachienshan, Hsuehshan, Chilai Ridge, Nengkaoshan, and the rest. These places are hard to get to, and detailed information about the logistics, along with a quick ranking of the top hikes, would have been appropriate.

In the end, like its predecessors, the new Lonely Planet Taiwan is okay, but not excellent. It could have been better than it is, which is precisely the problem with tourism in Taiwan. When it comes to promoting its travel virtues, Taiwan always manages to stumble. In tourism, as in politics, it is forever on the margins. Japanese travelers come because they always have, and someday soon, mainland Chinese will come because they are Chinese. European and American tourists - genuine tourists, not business travelers - will probably continue to avoid the island, just as they always have. Previous editions of the Lonely Planet Taiwan guides were not warmly embraced by Taiwan hands, because much of the information was inaccurate, and because the early books had a mocking tone that many readers didn't like. The latest version drops the sardonic tone, and it is certainly more accurate. But it often lacks enthusiasm, it lacks some key information, and it provides little real guidance in pointing out the island's true travel highlights. Lonely Planet has produced yet another middling effort. Surely Taiwan deserves better.
 
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