Warm to a fault

An hour or so after touching down in Taiwan I'm counting the late-night stars through clouds of steam. Geothermal hot springs dot this unexpectedly lush island, so we've made a beeline from the airport to the Great Roots Forestry Spa Resort where the springs, plunge pools and waterfalls are open until midnight. How civilised.

The first surprise for Australians is that bathing caps are de rigueur when public bathing in Taiwan. Luckily there's an attendant poolside who pops a tight yellow fabric number into our hands. I try out the only local lingo I know - "xie xie" ("thanks" in Mandarin) - and slip into the springs looking like a Chupa-Chup.

Water jets pummel my back and steam softens the edges of a day filled with taxis, airports and baggage carousels. The famous Taiwanese warmth soon shows itself - a matron waddles over, holds her hand under the curved pipe behind my head and fires up my foot-massagers.

I haven't seen Taiwan in daylight yet but as I start to resemble a prune (or maybe a salted plum), I wonder why the place has been slow to capture the imagination of Western tourists. Last year the island welcomed just 3.7 million visitors (nearby Hong Kong attracted 28 million). Of course, there is Taiwan's difficult relationship with China - the military superpower just across the Taiwan Strait claims the island as its own and has more than 1000 missiles aimed at it to make that point. However, Taiwan's image problem seems to stem from its recent history as a manufacturing powerhouse. Many Australians imagine the island - just half the size of Tasmania, yet home to 23 million Taiwanese - as one big concrete jungle. But it's clear why 16th-century Portuguese sailors christened it "Ilha Formosa", the beautiful island. Modern-day adventurers, too, discover Taiwan is more Cezanne than Jeffrey Smart, with much of its angular geography preserved in national parks.

While it's easy to while away a few days in Taipei, those with the time and inclination to venture outside the capital will probably find themselves at one of Taiwan's two big natural drawcards: Taroko Gorge, on the wild east coast, or Sun Moon Lake, on the western side of the almost impassable Central Mountain Range. There are many ways to get to the gorge - by train (book well ahead), car, coach or by flying into Hualien's military airport (where photography is banned) - but ensure the journey includes a close-up view of the north-east coastline.

The cliff-hugging Suao-Hualien Highway, with views that seem to go all the way to Mexico, is something else. Despite the heat, humidity and the highway's resemblance to a rollercoaster, lots of cyclists are taking the tough way to Taroko. The 2007 film Island Etude, in which a hearing-impaired college student cycles his way around Taiwan, has inspired many people to follow suit. Taiwan's drivers appear to be more law-abiding than Vietnam's but they're also a little crazy and overtake at high speed in the scariest of places.

Taroko Gorge is worth the trip, however you get there. The Liwu River gushes between the towering walls, gnawing at the marble. In 1996, traffic was diverted from a section of highway shadowing the gorge, allowing pedestrians to wander the 1.9-kilometre Tunnel of Nine Turns Trail and enjoy the gorge "without the intrusion by exhaust-spouting clumps of metal that used to ply this road", as an official sign helpfully states.

Hiking trails criss-cross the countryside and there are campgrounds for those who want to get close to nature. We spend the night at the Grand Formosa Taroko, a 212-room hotel with a luxurious spa and a rooftop pool facing the gorge walls. Heading to the rooms, it's hard not to notice all the emergency equipment pinned to the corridor walls and the torches in the bedside drawers - the reason for which becomes clear when a tremor rattles me awake.