In places like this, you realize travel isn’t always about collecting destinations. It’s about slowing down, breathing in the mist, and letting the world wake up around you. Fenqihu was that place for me. This blog is an installment in my Taiwan, Two, Three… (2025 Series).

📅 Travel Dates: November 14–18, 2025

A Quiet Morning in Fenqihu

I woke up early on my second day, feeling the cool mist wrap around the sleepy town. Instead of rushing to Alishan Mountain and joining the crowd, I chose to linger—a small act of rebellion against the rush of travel. Only a few locals were awake, and the 7-Eleven was the only store open.

I wandered from the upper street down toward the railway tracks and Fenqihu Train Station, then looped back through the lower street in search of breakfast.

At 7 AM, the town felt suspended in time—peaceful, foggy, and untouched by the usual bustle. My slow walk eventually led me back to the station. There were still no passengers, only locals enjoying their unhurried morning walks.

I checked the train ticket counter and, to my delight, secured a one-way train ticket back to Chiayi for 01:30 PM. Relief washed over me—no more winding roads or motion sickness this time. After seeing online that everything was fully booked, I had almost given up.

Breakfast and Small Signs of Change

Hunger nudged me toward Lunchbox, where I finally ordered a chicken bento meal. Seeing locals already dining made the place feel alive in that gentle Fenqihu way. It was also reassuring to notice that the restaurant, train ticketing office, and 7-Eleven accepted card payments—a reminder that even quiet mountain towns adapt and modernize.

I had hoped to try other bento stalls I saw while walking around the area, but many were still closed. So I savored the quiet instead, letting the morning ease me into the day.

Mountain Journey Memories—Fenqihu Loco Shed 🚂

Only a short walk from Fenqihu Station, I found myself standing before the Fenqihu Loco Shed—a quiet, almost forgotten corner of the Alishan Forest Railway. The air smelled faintly of rain and old timber, and the tracks, worn and rusty, looked like they were holding stories from a hundred journeys before mine.

I lingered there for a while, imagining the days when locomotives paused inside this shed to rest, repair, and prepare for the steep climb to Alishan. There was something comforting about its stillness. No train whistles, no footsteps—just the soft hum of the mountains and the echo of history.

For a railway enthusiast like me, it felt like discovering a small treasure tucked gently into the heart of Fenqihu.

A Glimpse of the Forest, From the Train 🚂

By 11 AM, the first train from Chiayi arrived—a yellow-and-red mountain train. Passengers disembarked, browsed the stores, took photos, and enjoyed bento meals by the tracks. I checked out of my hotel and took one last walk around the town.

I may have missed visiting the Alishan Forest itself, but Fenqihu offered glimpses of its own version of that world: giant trees, thick forest, and a railway track quietly waiting for passengers.

A few minutes before my scheduled train, another train approached—this one coming from Alishan. Its colors of blue, yellow, and white glided through the mist as it slowed to a stop. Passengers from the mountain stepped out, ending their journey as mine was about to begin.

And then, finally, in that perfect moment, I boarded the mountain train I had been wanting to try for years. No winding roads. No nausea. Just the rhythmic chug of the engine, the forest stretching alongside the tracks, and mountains framing the distance.

Slowly, the train carried us down from the misty hills. After almost three hours, signs of the city began to reappear. Approaching Chiayi, I felt a quiet satisfaction: I had experienced the mountains on my terms.

Hello again, Chiayi City!

We arrived at Chiayi Station, where local trains branched off to other parts of Taiwan. I checked into my hotel—a clean, modern place with a self-check-in kiosk—but was assigned the upper bunk, which meant climbing stairs I wasn’t exactly thrilled about.

Tired and hungry, I wandered to Wenhua Night Market but didn’t buy anything. With braces, I’ve become extra picky with food. So yes… I ended up at McDonald’s instead. Hahaha!

Back at the hotel, I wrapped things up and headed to bed.

Fenqihu reminded me that travel isn’t always about the destination. Sometimes it’s about patience, slowing down, and noticing the small moments—the mist on the streets, the rhythm of a passing train, and the quiet resilience of a mountain town waking up.

Even the simple act of enjoying a bento meal felt like stepping into history. This tiny town inherited its lunchbox culture from the Japanese era, when travelers on the mountain railway discovered these convenient, hearty meals.

In letting myself slow down, I discovered a different kind of adventure—one that honors the past as much as the present and feels just as precious as ticking off a bucket list.