Wu-Wu-Wulai!

Wulai is one of those places that you hear about long before you ever see it.

"Yeah I went out there, there's this spooky theme park at the top of the falls that was deserted when I was there; a bit of a ghost town."

"We took a trip there when we first got here, but the weather wasn't that great. The waterfall is pretty but I wouldn't go unless it's during the summer."

"Wulai is the shit, you have to check that place out!"

The talk about this place does not do it justice. If any quote were to be the closest to the real thing, it would be the third.

Wulai is located in the hills of Northeastern Taiwan. Just outside the outskirts of Taipei, it is readily accessible and therefore hosts a bevy of tourists, foreign and native alike, on any given day. There is a bus which will take you to the city for about a $1.50 or you can take a cab for $400.

When Mark, Caleb and I were set to head out, we decided to take the cheaper, slower alternative. When we got to the bus stop however, there was a large sign indicating exact prices for cab drivers to take people to Wulai and a gaggle of yellow taxis with beetlenut chewing drivers ready to pounce on any unsuspecting westerners. We were immediately offered a ride and refused on the grounds that we were hungry and needed to find food.

After a quick trip to a doughnut stand, delicious by the way, we headed back to the bus stop to again be hounded after, with many a "boo yao," or, "I don't want," to unleash. It was at this moment that a Taiwanese woman and her young daughter came over and spoke nearly perfect English to us: "Would you like to split a taxi with us to Wulai," she asked, to our surprise.

That was how we ended up in a cab on our way to one of the most beautiful places in Taiwan.

During our half hour drive we found out that this woman was actually born in mainland China, but has lived for an undetermined amount of time in Australia with her Canadian husband. Their daughter was fluent in both languages and constantly surprised us by poking fun at her mother's accent or piping up whenever she felt she needed to be heard. It was an informative cab ride and we left with her contact information which she said could get us cheap accomadation in Hong Kong due to the fact that her friend owned some hotels there. Unforunately, as of the time of this writing, I cannot find that goddamn piece of paper anywhere.

When you first enter the city your immediate surroundings can cause even the most adventure weary traveler to perk up. Lush jungle greenery rises sharply up both sides of a narrow gorge which is split in two by a milky blue swath of water. It looks at once inviting and merciless.

To get to the main attractions, the Wulai waterfall, gondola ride, and aboriginal theme park, you must first walk through a small street lined with vendors of all sorts. Most of the products are handwoven or hand-carved pieces of aboriginal artwork which is ridiculously cheap and screams "Tourist!" Still, some of it is pretty cool, if you're into wooden carvings of penises which arc gracefully over a wooden ashtray.

The food here is wonderful and plentiful. We dabbled in the fresh roasted pork, Indian curry burritos known as chapati, and all sorts of skewered meats. Another must-try is the Millet wine. We were introduced to this nectar of the Gods while perusing the store which had the dick ash trays, as we would, and were offered free samples of an unknown liquor, as will happen. It's difficult to describe, but it's something like a very sweet wine with a little more kick to it and some slight fizzy-ness. We wouldn't leave the town without a bottle.

On the road to the gondola there is a small train on the right hand side, for what I can only assume to be complete invalids because the walk is really not taxing at all. We were routinely passed by elderly and small children and yet the train continued past us with bored looking passengers not willing to work for their entertainment. Also the size of the train was laughable. Imagine a train of five box cars the size of a telephone booth on it's side and it's still smaller than that. Truly pitiful.

The view from the top of the first ascent is spectacular, with the falls directly to the left and the occasional gondola slowly pulling itself along the expanse of the gorge. The falls themselves are not particularly grand in any way other than they are immensely high and fall with a beautiful grace, pummeling the rocks below. The view from the gondola is even more breathtaking, especially when you are at the front.

The gondola brings you to the lowest part of the aboriginal "amusement park," as it is called, but it's unlike any amusement park that I've ever been to. For starters, it's free to enter, which I think should completely throw it out of any category that includes the ridiculously overpriced Disneyland or Disneyworld. Add to that the culture aspect of the aboriginal dancers and informative placards and you get something altogether different from the amusement parks of the US.

The real beauty of this place could be found with a quick step off the beaten track (a gorgeous walkway of stone, cement and wood bridges which winds through the whole park and is a treat to walk) and head into the thick jungle. We found a small trail no larger than an animal track and decided to follow it wherever it would take us.

Within minutes we were in the heart of the steamy jungle, foreign birds chittering in the leaves and insects of all kinds wriggling about in the mud between our feet. It was exactly what we were looking for.

We found a small stream and followed it uphill until we could find another pathway that led vertically up the hillside. We were fortunate enough to find that the trail had been used by others who sought fit to equip the steepest parts of the climb with ropes for added safety. We huffed and puffed our way to the top, dead set on finding the beautiful vista that we were sure would be waiting for us at the top.

I wouldn't call what we found a "vista" necessarily, but it did make your heart squeeze with terror and I think that is saying something. What we found at the top was a knife edge ridge leading thirty to forty yards lengthwise before falling steeply off at the end. About ten feet from the very end a tree had fallen over and knocked enough brush out of the way that a small view could be captured of what lay beyond the thick brush and trees. From what we could see, it was quite amazing, but the feeling of imminent danger in three out of four directions was enough to make our stay at the top a brief one.

We bounded back down the trail with footsteps as light as our cares. When we made it back to the "amusement park," it was more of a culture shock than any we've received since moving to this beautiful island.

We've since made a pact to come back and explore more of this wild landscape.