Truly terrific Taiwan

A loud thwap, thwap reverberates around the temple as my friend, held down by two old men in red wicker hats, undergoes what can only be described as one of the weirdest religious traditions in the world: a spiritual spanking by a Taoist priest to exorcise bad luck.

It is 3pm on a sunny Tuesday in southern Taiwan, and Donglong temple is filled with locals praying, chanting, lighting incense and setting off fireworks.

Not a single one of them, however, bats an eyelid at Chris - who is lying prone at the temple entrance, wriggling in pain and trying desperately to keep his moans to himself.

With the priest only halfway through the requisite 120 lashes by wooden bat, the locals know that interrupting him now would only stop the spirits from working their magic - on both Chris's bum and his soul.

On a whirlwind tour of a nation best known for its cheap electronics, regular typhoons and historical animosity towards China, we are here to uncover the 'other side' of Taiwan - the food, history, fun and traditions - but no one, I can assure you, ever expected to be voluntarily beaten by a man with glaucoma and a cricket bat.

Nearly 60 years after it was founded by intellectuals, soldiers, monks and artists fleeing Communist China, Taiwan is still a total enigma to most Western tourists.

Roughly half the geographical size of Scotland, this nation of 23 million has established itself as one of Asia's greatest success stories - an island with a fervent democracy, healthy sense of humour and vibrant economy, whose people are rich in both wallet and intellect.

With self-administered hyperbole at practically every turn, Taiwan is also home to one of the healthiest self-images that exists in the world today.

Boasting restaurants named "Really Good Seafood" and shops called "Your Favourite Place", Terrific Taiwan, as it is referred to by its ministry of tourism, has invested heavily in international advertising to increase tourism to this so-called "Heart of Asia".

It may be a bit off the normal path - visitors from the UK usually have one layover, generally in Frankfurt or Bangkok - but for anyone up for an adventure, or for those curious about China's recent history, Taiwan is definitely worth a visit.

We've arrived in Taipei, a somewhat industrial capital reminiscent at times of Gotham City, during Taiwan's lantern festival - a 15-day affair coinciding with Chinese New Year.

This is not a festival of sky lanterns billowing up into the starry night - although that does exist, we're told, in the indigenous village of Pingxi, where lanterns historically helped locals communicate to one another that invaders were approaching.

Instead the main draw is a series of oversized, illuminated sculptures made from multi-coloured silkscreens and shaped mostly like cartoon characters, in a show of artistic might the tourism board has humorously dubbed "the most fantastic festival in the world".

But they are serious.

The festival's opening ceremony is a huge affair attracting thousands of people from all over Taiwan, most of whom are poised with smartphones and iPads for the massive fireworks and dance show, and concluding cameo by the Taiwanese president Ma Ying-jeou.

What's most beautiful about the festival is its tradition: lanterns still have considerable significance in Taiwanese culture, as ritual requires children to light lanterns throughout Chinese New Year to indicate that they have attained wisdom - in effect sparking the imaginary lightbulbs in their minds.

The next day we jet off in a futuristic high-speed train to explore the southern beaches and coral outcrops of Taiwan. With nearly two-thirds of the country covered in mountains - and most visitors keen to hike its forested peaks - we are travelling into somewhat unchartered tourism territory by heading down south instead.

Our train propels itself at speeds of 220kph through Taiwan's flat, fertile lowlands - the only space available for industry and farmland. We whizz past warehouses and factories, interspersed with a few palm trees and rice paddies. It isn't the most gorgeous of views, but I find myself wholly intrigued by Taiwan's efforts at patriotic beautification: the factory smokestacks have all been painted with sunflowers, parachutists or rainbows, lending the countryside an unexpected and artistic surrealism.

We pause briefly in the port of Donggang - where traders at the fish market are hawking sea-creature eyeballs, small sharks and fish so fresh it is still breathing - to board a ferry for the tiny island of Liuqiu, a coral outcrop in the turquoise South China Sea.

The island is best navigated by bicycle or scooter and is worth exploring for a day or two, its rocky caves perfect for a dip in the clear-blue sea.

Bright temples, semi-circular graveyards and tropical gardens are all signposted for visitors, and the locals - while considerably old - generally wave hello and proffer a shy smile.

But it is our next night, at Taiwan's largest Buddhist monastery, Fo Guang Shan, that really stands out.

Taking a class in calligraphy, and then wandering amongst the 10,000 images of Buddha on the temple's peaceful grounds, we're introduced to the fervent spirituality that many Taiwanese feel towards their faith, whether it's Confucian, Taoist or Buddhist - or a mash-up of all three.

"We Taiwanese are non-exclusive," our guide Mike jokes.

Taiwan is famous for housing some of the most significant Chinese art in Asia - from ancient bronze and jade to modern-day calligraphy and ceramics - so I am delighted to spend an afternoon in the artistic village of Jiufen, set high in the mountains east of Taipei, once we return to the capital.

This is a place foodies, tea-lovers and anyone looking for an artistic bargain may find hard to leave. Its tiny lanes are rife with handmade pottery, antique curios, cliffhanging teahouses, and little restaurants selling everything from homemade sweets to pork dumplings and spicy corn on the cob. Most of the buildings are painted in cute street art, and this is one of the few places in Taiwan where graffiti rules.

On our last night in Taiwan, we decide to do the wackiest thing possible - dine at Taipei's weirdest-themed establishment: Modern Toilet. At this novelty restaurant in Taipei's fashionable Ximending neighbourhood, customers eat curries and hotpots out of mini-toilet bowls - while sitting on life-size toilets.

The food, to say the least, leaves something to be desired, so we head out to the famous nightmarket of Shilin, where cheap clothes and cheap eats are a dime a dozen. The sticky sweet fried taro balls and Indian parathas are a big hit among locals - but I soon find myself munching down on a chocolate-covered waffle in the shape of the male anatomy!

The next day, I share a deliciously fragrant lunch of pork grilled with sweet sesame, oyster and ginger soup, fried taro, and water-lily salad with our guide Mike, and use the opportunity to ask him about Taiwan's extensive use of hyperbole.

How do the Taiwanese really see themselves, compared to the rest of the world?

"I visited Europe a few months ago, and have also travelled to America and many different parts of Asia - but never China," he tells me in between bites. "Look at our trains - they are cleaner, wider and more comfortable than the Eurostar. Taipei is cleaner than Paris.

"We do have some problems - unemployment is too high, for example - but," - and here he pauses for effect - "Taiwan really is the best place on earth. Even our convenience stores are more convenient."

The two of us collapse in laughter, until I realise that not only is Mike serious - but that after a week of seeing it for myself, I'm beginning to believe there may be more truth to Taiwan's hyperbole than initially meets the eye - and I didn't even need to get spanked to believe it.

Travel facts

Kate Hodal was a guest of the Taiwanese Tourist Board. She flew with China Airlines (020 8587 3688/www.china-airlines.com) who fly from London to Taipei, via Frankfurt, for £675 pp. For more information on the destination, visit http://eng.taiwan.net.tw/