The Taiwanese seem to have a thing for bat caves. A surprising number of impressive cave-like rock formations dotted over the island (with or without a population of resident bats) share the name bat cave, possibly because traditionally bats are a considered a symbol of fortune and happiness.
The association isn’t immediately apparent to the average Englishman like myself, who generally associates the critters with creepy vampires, and a certain caped crusader, but the reason is really quite simple. The Chinese word for bat (蝠, fu) sounds the same as the word for fortune (福): yet another way in which our two cultures are so very, refreshingly, different.
I seem to have developed quite an interest in bat caves too, over the years, since I’ve already described several in this column over the last 11 months. Well here’s another, rather special one.
Photo: Richard Saunders
Most of Taiwan’s bat caves are natural formations. Since the nation’s geological makeup doesn’t in general lend itself to the formation of true caves (save for a few impressive examples bored into several small pockets of limestone), most “caves” are just deep (albeit often very impressive) overhanging rock formations eroded over the eons by the weather.
Other bat caves, such as the one at Ruibin (瑞濱) on the northeast coast, east of Keelung (and a protected reserve for a rare kind of bat), are man-made creations, usually old mine shafts.
The bat cave at Toubiankeng (頭汴坑蝙蝠洞), however, is a unique hybrid: part natural cave and part man-made tunnel. Apparently, it once ranked among the top sights of the Taichung area, although its position has slipped somewhat since then.
.jpg)
Photo: Richard Saunders
The bats appear to have long since gone elsewhere (no doubt fleeing the assault of noisy, flashlight-totting adventurers that once thronged here each weekend) and the visitors who come here these days are mostly local, but it’s still worth a visit, particularly if you don’t mind squeezing through pitch-black, claustrophobic tunnels and running the risk of getting your feet wet.
The man-made part of the bat cave was chiseled through the rock during the Japanese colonial period, and channels water from the nearby river to irrigate fields downstream.
The entrance is a small slot in the cliff face, into which flows an aqueduct, which is diverted from the river some distance upstream. Unless it’s been raining heavily, these days the water in the tunnel is only a couple of centimeters deep, and a series of flat “stepping stones” along the length of the tunnel allow visitors to keep their feet (mostly) dry.
.jpg)
Photo: Richard Saunders
The roof of the tunnel is just high enough for a person of average height to stand without bowing their head, but the width seems to have been designed for thin people, and more generously proportioned visitors will find it a narrow squeeze, particularly near the far end, where the passage narrows still further.
A few meters in, the tunnel curves right, the light from the entrance can penetrate no further, and to explore any deeper, bring a head torch (or use the torch on your cellphone, but keep a tight grip on it, lest it falls into the water).
After a minute or two a junction on the right pierces the wall of the cliff into which the tunnel is cut, allowing the daylight to flood in briefly, and at the same time partially draining the tunnel via a delicate waterfall that emerges from the cliff and falls into the little river below. Pitch blackness returns a few meters further down the tunnel, but after a couple more minutes’ paddling a second, a third, then a fourth window on the outside world opens to the right. None offers an early means of escape, however, as they all open into the sheer cliff face.
.jpg)
Photo: Richard Saunders
Eventually there’s a fork in the tunnel. The left branch winds round the back of the cliff, to re-emerge into daylight, although there’s no way down and back to the road from here. Instead, turn right at the fork, and after another minute or two the cramped tunnel opens out into the back of a far larger, natural cavern with a large mouth opening onto the Toubiankeng Stream (頭汴坑溪) below. Climb down into the cave with the aid of the footholds and fixed rope, and a raised wooden walkway emerges from the cavern and leads back, past the entrance to the aqueduct tunnel, and to the road.
Toubiankeng Bat Cave is just a short excursion from urban Taichung, and there are even buses from a bus stop diagonally opposite Taichung train station to the cave, a 30-minute ride away. Visitors with their own transport should follow local route 136 (the road to Taiping; 太平) eastwards out of Taichung city center and keep following it through the last suburbs of the city, heading east into the low, rolling hills.
Route 136 now follows the river to the bat cave at Toubiankeng, through some attractive rural countryside. Immediately before the bat cave is the grand, modern temple of Lianhua Shan (蓮花山) with its prominent golden Guanyin statue looming high above the road. Its fine buildings and immaculately kept grounds are worth a look.
Immediately after the temple is a sign decorated with cute golden bats and a suspension bridge leading to a 500-meter-long trail that climbs over the little wooded hill, down the other side, and ends at a viewing platform giving an okay view over the river below the bat cave. Ignore this (unless you want to do the attractive short walk), follow the road another hundred meters further upstream, and the twin, black mouths of Toubiankeng Bat Cave open into the low cliff face on the right.
Richard Saunders is a classical pianist and writer who has lived in Taiwan since 1993. He’s the founder of a local hiking group, Taipei Hikers, and is the author of six books about Taiwan, including Taiwan 101 and Taipei Escapes. Visit his Web site at www.taiwanoffthebeatentrack.com.
Jason Han says that the e-arrival card spat between South Korea and Taiwan shows that Seoul is signaling adherence to its “one-China” policy, while Taiwan’s response reflects a reciprocal approach. “Attempts to alter the diplomatic status quo often lead to tit-for-tat responses,” the analyst on international affairs tells the Taipei Times, adding that Taiwan may become more cautious in its dealings with South Korea going forward. Taipei has called on Seoul to correct its electronic entry system, which currently lists Taiwan as “China (Taiwan),” warning that reciprocal measures may follow if the wording is not changed before March 31. As of yesterday,
The Portuguese never established a presence on Taiwan, but they must have traded with the indigenous people because later traders reported that the locals referred to parts of deer using Portuguese words. What goods might the Portuguese have offered their indigenous trade partners? Among them must have been slaves, for the Portuguese dealt slaves across Asia. Though we often speak of “Portuguese” ships, imagining them as picturesque vessels manned by pointy-bearded Iberians, in Asia Portuguese shipping between local destinations was crewed by Asian seamen, with a handful of white or Eurasian officers. “Even the great carracks of 1,000-2,000 tons which plied
It’s only half the size of its more famous counterpart in Taipei, but the Botanical Garden of the National Museum of Nature Science (NMNS, 國立自然科學博物館植物園) is surely one of urban Taiwan’s most inviting green spaces. Covering 4.5 hectares immediately northeast of the government-run museum in Taichung’s North District (北區), the garden features more than 700 plant species, many of which are labeled in Chinese but not in English. Since its establishment in 1999, the site’s managers have done their best to replicate a number of native ecosystems, dividing the site into eight areas. The name of the Coral Atoll Zone might
Nuclear power is getting a second look in Southeast Asia as countries prepare to meet surging energy demand as they vie for artificial intelligence-focused data centers. Several Southeast Asian nations are reviving mothballed nuclear plans and setting ambitious targets and nearly half of the region could, if they pursue those goals, have nuclear energy in the 2030s. Even countries without current plans have signaled their interest. Southeast Asia has never produced a single watt of nuclear energy, despite long-held atomic ambitions. But that may soon change as pressure mounts to reduce emissions that contribute to climate change, while meeting growing power needs. The
RSS