The Taiwanese Badlands: 12 Days Among Caolu Dunes and Taoyuan Oases

Finding Silence Amidst Sand and Water

When my sister Sveta and I planned our summer getaway, Taipei and Kaohsiung weren't even on the table. We craved something liminal—a place where civilization ends and primordial emptiness begins. We stumbled upon photos of the Caolu coastal dunes in Taoyuan District. The place looked like an alien landscape: endless sands, massive wind turbines, and a total absence of crowds. The idea sparked instantly—to explore the coastline known as the Taiwanese Sahara and find the hidden "oases" of wetlands and small fishing villages tucked away in the heat.

Our preparation was rigorous. We knew that July in Taiwan is a trial by fire. The humidity combined with temperatures near 35 degrees Celsius promised to turn sand trekking into a survival exercise. We packed light, full-coverage clothing, SPF 100 sunscreen, and downloaded offline maps since reception often falters in the dunes. We felt a mix of determination and slight nerves: two women in a sparsely populated area where English is mostly limited to hotels—it had all the makings of an adventure.

We weren't looking for five-star luxury. Our goal was to stay in guesthouses near the coast and sync up with the rhythm of local life. We wanted to see the other side of Taiwan—not as a tech hub, but as a rugged, beautiful frontier of sand, wind, and water. We spent hours Googling tide schedules, as access to certain stretches of the dunes depended entirely on the sea. Our suitcases were packed with tripods and spare batteries; we planned to document everything.

Day 1: First Contact with the Sands

We settled into a small guesthouse called "Ocean Breeze" near the Guanyin coast. It was a classic Taiwanese home: minimalist furniture, tiled floors (a blessing in the heat), and incredibly welcoming hosts. Sveta’s first move was checking the air conditioner—it worked like a beast, which was critical. For lunch, we hit a tiny noodle shop nearby and ordered "Niu Rou Mian"—traditional beef noodle soup. The broth was so rich and savory it felt like it contained the very essence and strength of the island.

After lunch, we headed to the northern section of the Caolu dunes. The path led through thickets of scrubland before suddenly opening up to a view of massive sandy hills. The sand was hot even through the soles of our sneakers. The ocean breeze felt searing, but the sight of giant wind turbines slowly spinning against the gray sand and blue sky was hypnotic. We spent three hours there, simply watching the shadows shift. No one else was around. Just us and the roar of the surf.

That evening, we searched Google for a place to buy local lychees, as they were in peak season. We found a small market where an elderly woman sold us an entire branch for next to nothing. We ate dinner in our room: fruit, fresh bread from a local bakery, and cold jasmine tea. Exhaustion hit us instantly, and we fell asleep to the steady hum of the air conditioner.

Day 2: The Xucuogang Wetlands

We woke up early to beat the worst of the heat. Breakfast at the guesthouse consisted of toast with black sesame paste—unusual and very filling. Today’s goal was the Xucuogang Wetlands, an oasis within the coastal wasteland where fresh water meets the salt of the sea. We rented two bicycles from our host and pedaled along the shore. The ride took about forty minutes, with the wind bringing the scent of salt and sea vegetation.

At Xucuogang, we saw an abundance of birdlife. Sveta, who enjoys birdwatching, was in her element. We Googled the various heron species wading through the shallows. The landscape here was a stark contrast to yesterday's dunes: lush greenery, mangroves, and a silence broken only by bird calls. We found a wooden boardwalk that allowed us to venture deep into the wetlands without getting our feet wet.

Lunch found us at a small shack frequented by local fishermen. We were served oyster omelets with greens. The texture was a bit surprising at first—slightly gelatinous due to the starch—but the flavor was incredible. We spent the rest of the day in the shade of a massive banyan tree near a temple in Guanyin, people-watching. We spent the evening sorting through photos, enjoying the profound quiet of the area.

Day 3: The Scorching Trek and the Old Lighthouse

The third day began with an abnormal heatwave. We decided to walk to the Baishajia Lighthouse. It’s one of the oldest in Taiwan and looks very photogenic against the vibrant green of its surrounding park. On the way, we ducked into a 7-Eleven for iced coffee. In Taiwan, these stores are literal lifesavers. You can cool down, send mail, and even print documents there.

The lighthouse is surrounded by a lush park with paths where we hid from the sun. We Googled the history of the site: it turns out it has survived several earthquakes and even air raids during past wars. Inside, the lighthouse was cool, and the observation deck offered a view of the infinite coastline. We stared at the horizon for a long time, reflecting on how strange it felt to be in this "deserted" corner of such a densely populated island.

For dinner, we decided to try something bold and bought "Stinky Tofu" from a street vendor. The smell is definitely an acquired taste, but if you hold your breath, the flavor of fried fermented bean curd with spicy pickled cabbage is something else. We stayed at the same guesthouse, planning a trip further south toward Hsinchu for the next day.

Day 4: Journey into the Xinwu Green Tunnel

Today we changed locations and moved to Xinwu, a small district famous for its "Green Tunnel"—a coastal road completely canopy-covered by trees. It was our next "oasis." We stayed at a small hotel called "Sea Star" with a view of the surf. After a quick check-in, we went to find bikes, which are the primary mode of transport here.

The Green Tunnel was a sanctuary from the sun. The cycling path stretches for several kilometers under a dense dome of leaves. We rode slowly, soaking in the cool air. Occasionally, we detoured toward the sea, where the sand turned to pebbles. We discovered an amazing site here—ancient stone fish weirs built centuries ago. We Googled how they worked: fish swim in during high tide and get trapped as the tide recedes. It was a fascinating piece of ancient engineering.

Lunch was at a seafood restaurant right on the beach. We ordered steamed fish with ginger and green onions—everything was as fresh as it gets. We spent the evening on the hotel terrace listening to the waves. Sveta remarked that it was the first time in ages she didn't feel the need to rush. We just drank local honey-flavored Taiwan Beer and looked at the stars.

Day 5: Dust Storms and the Magic of Xingfeng Dunes

We decided to head to an even wilder spot—the Xingfeng Dunes, located right on the border with Hsinchu County. A strong wind picked up, sending sand flying through the air. It felt like a miniature Sahara dust storm. We wrapped scarves around our faces and put on sunglasses. The experience was surreal: sand crunched in our teeth, but the sight of the massive, almost black volcanic sand hills was worth every discomfort.

Xingfeng is less developed than Caolu. There are no paved paths, just sand and occasional thorny bushes. We Googled whether it was dangerous to be there in high winds, but the internet only returned glowing reviews from photographers. We stayed for about four hours, catching the perfect light as the sun began to set. The sand turned a deep, glowing orange.

Returning to Xinwu, we felt as though we had crossed the Gobi Desert. A shower was the ultimate bliss. We ate dinner at a local temple food court, trying "Lu Rou Fan"—minced pork over rice in a sweet-savory sauce. It’s cheap, filling, and incredibly tasty. We slept like logs; sand seemed to be everywhere, even inside our sealed backpacks.

Day 6: A Respite in the Lotus Ponds

We decided to make the sixth day a "recovery" day. The Guanyin area is famous for its lotus fields, which bloom beautifully in July. These are true floral oases. We visited a farm park where the lotuses were taller than we were, their massive pink and white buds looking almost artificial. We Googled the significance of the lotus in local culture and found ourselves reading legends about purity and rebirth.

The farm offered various lotus-based foods. We tried lotus seeds, candied petals, and even lotus root soup. The flavor was delicate and earthy—the perfect culinary adventure for a hot day. After lunch, we simply sat in a gazebo in the middle of a pond and read. Sveta had brought a mystery novel, while I just watched the dragonflies.

In the evening, we returned to our hotel in Xinwu. We decided to treat ourselves to a spa night and found a local hair salon that performs the famous Taiwanese head massage during hair washing. It lasted an hour: washing, neck and shoulder massage, and styling. We walked out feeling completely renewed. For dinner, we grabbed onigiri and local yogurt from a convenience store. This quiet day was necessary before our final stretch.

Day 7: Secret Paths of the Mangrove Forests

On the seventh day, we headed to the Hongmaogang Mangrove Forest. This is another incredible oasis where life teems within the roots of trees growing directly out of the water. We Googled the tide times to catch the moment when the roots are fully submerged. The area features excellent wooden boardwalks that meander through the trees.

We spent the morning spotting fiddler crabs with their one giant claw and mudskippers—fish that can actually walk on land. It felt like watching a nature documentary in real life. The heat felt different here—the humidity was extreme, but the tree canopy provided relief. We met a group of schoolchildren on a field trip who very politely greeted us in English.

Lunch was at a roadside eatery serving homemade seafood noodles. The portion was gigantic. We spent the afternoon on a wild beach nearby, just staring at the sea. Swimming wasn't allowed due to strong currents, but dipping our feet in the surf was heavenly. We returned to the guesthouse after buying a massive watermelon from a farmer, which we ate entirely while sitting on the porch watching the sun go down.

Day 8: Ghost Towns and Abandoned Bunkers

The eighth day was dedicated to exploring abandoned military sites along the coast. The Taiwanese coastline is dotted with old pillboxes and bunkers that are now being slowly reclaimed by sand and sea. We Googled coordinates for the most interesting spots and found several bunkers right in the dunes. It was a bit eerie: concrete boxes with narrow slits facing the strait.

Inside some of the bunkers, the air was cool and the walls were covered in graffiti. We imagined what it must have been like for soldiers to serve here decades ago. It added a post-apocalyptic vibe to our trip. We spent the whole day moving from one site to another, sometimes trekking through tall grass. Sveta scratched her leg, so we had to find a pharmacy for some antiseptic.

That evening, we found a cozy cafe called "Windy Hill," decorated with a nautical theme. They served excellent craft tea and homemade cookies. We had a long conversation with the owner, who told us how much the coastline had changed over the last twenty years due to the climate. It was a deep and slightly somber talk about the island’s future. We slept that night to the sound of an intensifying wind.

Day 9: Mountain Oasis—A Short Dash Inland

While our focus was the coast, on the ninth day we decided to change the scenery and head into the Taoyuan foothills to the Shimen Reservoir. This is a massive man-made oasis. We took a taxi since buses are infrequent. The sight of such a vast body of water nestled among bright green mountains after the yellow-gray dunes was shocking. We Googled boat tours and found a pier.

The boat ride across the reservoir was magnificent. From the water, the mountains looked even taller, and the air was much fresher. We saw "Ginger Island," a small settlement accessible only by water. That’s where we had lunch—the famous reservoir fish prepared in a dozen different ways. We chose the sweet and sour style.

After returning from the mountains to the coast, the heat felt even more unbearable. We realized how quickly one gets used to the coolness. We spent the evening searching for gifts for our families, specifically the local Oolong tea grown in this region. We found a small shop where the owner performed a full tea ceremony for us. We bought several tins of tea in beautiful packaging and stayed at our coastal hotel.

Day 10: The Last Stand at Caolu and the Search for Salt

We decided to return to the Caolu dunes one last time but approached from a different side where, rumor had it, old salt pans used to be. We Googled maps from 20 years ago to find their exact location. The sand here was particularly fine, almost like powder. We found the remains of wooden structures once used for drying salt. The place looked like a set from a desert movie.

It turned out to be the hottest day of the trip. We drank about three liters of water each. Lunch was meager—just energy bars and nuts—as we didn't want to head back to town in the middle of the day. We found shade under one of the giant wind turbines. Standing beneath it was a bit intimidating—the blades whistled overhead with such force that the ground vibrated. But it was the only shade available.

By evening, we reached a small fishing village where we were treated to a "Baobing" ice dessert—a mountain of shaved ice drizzled with syrup and topped with beans and fruit. It was the best thing we ate all trip. That night, we spent a long time washing off the salt and sand, feeling a pleasant muscle ache. It was our final day of active sand trekking.

Day 11: Taoyuan’s Urban Oases

Our penultimate day was dedicated to Taoyuan City itself to be closer to civilization before our departure. We moved to the modern "City Suites" hotel. After ten days in guesthouses, a room with panoramic city views felt like the height of luxury. We walked through the city park and visited the Museum of Japanese Architecture—restored colonial-era houses. These were quiet, shaded islands of calm in the middle of a bustling metropolis.

We Googled the best spots for a final dinner and found a restaurant specializing in hot pot. They bring a pot of boiling broth, and you cook your own meat, vegetables, and mushrooms. We spent three hours there, slowly trying different ingredients. It was a perfect way to reflect on the trip. We ended the night at a night market, buying souvenirs: stone magnets and local pineapple cakes.

I couldn't sleep for a long time that night, staring at the city lights. The contrast between the wild dunes and this neon world was striking. Sveta was already asleep, and I was rewatching videos of us walking through the sand, the wind drowning out our voices. I felt a bit sad that it was ending, but also a deep sense of renewal and solitude.

Day 12: Farewell to the Island of Winds

The morning of our last day was unhurried. We had breakfast at the hotel—a buffet ranging from fried eggs to dim sum. Then we went for one last walk in the local park, where seniors were practicing Tai Chi. We just sat on a bench, soaking up the atmosphere. We Googled the weather waiting for us back home, unwilling to believe that in a few hours, this humid heat would only be a memory.

We stopped at a small coffee shop where the barista made us lattes with panda art in the foam. It was so cute and typically Taiwanese. We bought some fresh mangoes for the road—they are incredibly fragrant here. Sveta double-checked all the documents, making sure we hadn't left anything in the room. We spent our final hours in the hotel lobby, sharing our favorite moments with each other.

Our mood was peaceful. We didn't feel exhausted, but rather filled with a deep inner satisfaction. Taiwan had revealed itself to us not through the glitz of skyscrapers, but through the ruggedness of the sands and the silence of the mangroves. We realized that even on such a crowded island, you can find places where you are one-on-one with nature. It was a valuable experience we won't soon forget.

Sand in Our Pockets and Salt on Our Skin: Reflections on Our Escape

This trip to Taiwan in 2026 was a true revelation. Choosing the Caolu dunes and the Taoyuan coast over typical tourist routes paid off completely. Yes, it was hot, and at times physically demanding to trudge through sand under a blazing sun, but the views and the sense of freedom we gained were worth every drop of sweat. We went looking for a desert—and we found it, along with its silence and its hidden oases.

What did we like most? Perhaps the contrasts. One moment you're standing on top of a massive sand dune feeling like a character from the movie "Dune," and a few hours later, you're eating fresh seafood in a cozy cafe surrounded by greenery. The people in Taiwan are a highlight of their own. Even without knowing our language, they always tried to help, smiled, and made our stay comfortable. What didn't we like? Probably only the extreme humidity, which you never quite get used to, and the abundance of gnats in the mangroves—repellent was our best friend.

We will definitely return to Taiwan in the future, but perhaps we'll choose a different season to explore the central mountains. However, this experience of a "desert" vacation in the peak of summer will remain in our memories as something truly special. We brought home more than just memory cards full of photos; we brought back a bit of that tranquility we found among the wind turbines and dunes. And yes, I was still shaking sand out of my backpack pockets a week after returning—a small reminder of our big adventure.