Why Taiwan
There's something unexpected about the pleasure of Taiwan. The island is small, dense, suffocated by political cards between two giants. And yet, as soon as you set foot in Taipei, something relaxes. The city doesn't try to impress: it welcomes you. The subway is quiet and punctual, passers-by bow slightly to show you the way, and on the corner of an ordinary residential street, a night market explodes with vapors and colors. It's this special quality, this attention to detail and hospitality, that distinguishes Taiwan from its big neighbors.
The island's geography is dizzying for its size: in less than two hours by train from the capital, you can go from the glass skyscrapers of the Xinyi district to the white marble gorge of Taroko, where the Liwu River drags its turquoise waters between 1,000-meter walls. In the center, Sun Moon Lake slumbers in a cocoon of misty mountains. To the south, Tainan accumulates two centuries of Dutch colonial history between its alleys of temples. Each region has its own personality, its own gastronomy, its own rituals.
Taiwan is also the island of the invention of bubble tea, the perfect xiao long bao, and the nights when you eat standing up at the Shilin market until two in the morning. It is this generosity, daily and sincere, that brings back those who knew it.
