Waterfalls of Wulai's Neidong National Forest Recreation Park. (Facebook, Forest and Nature Conservation Agency, Ministry of Agriculture)

Wulai: Taiwan’s mountain sanctuary where steam meets story

In the lush emerald folds of northern Taiwan's mountains, Wulai blends ancient culture, geothermal wonders, and modern leisure into a singularly sublime escape just beyond Taipei's urban hum.

From “Ulay” to Wulai: A name that speaks of water and wonder

The very name Wulai whispers of the land's most elemental gift. Derived from the Atayal word Ulay, meaning “watch out” or “boiling hot water,” it evokes the ever-present steam rising from hot springs that have defined this district for centuries.

Nestled in the mountainous southern corner of New Taipei City, which is the northernmost city on the island of Taiwan, Wulai is both the largest and most mountainous district in the municipality, home primarily to the Indigenous Atayal people, one of the largest Taiwanese Indigenous group by population.

Beyond its evocative name, Wulai today stands as one of northern Taiwan's most beloved scenic destinations. It drew as much as 2.32 million visitors before the pandemic, even after numerous disastrous typhoons that hit Wulai, according to historical tourism statistics compiled by Wulai District Office of the New Taipei City Government.

The government pointed out that the clear waters of Wulai's hot springs have a pH level of approximately 7.4, classifying them as mildly alkaline sodium bicarbonate springs.

It also stated that the hot springs, long prized for their reputed benefits including gentle exfoliation, enhanced metabolism, and skin-softening properties, have earned Wulai the enduring sobriquet of the “Beauty Spring.”

The view of Wulai's natural scenery from a hot spring hotel. (TCN)
The view of Wulai's natural scenery from a hot spring hotel. (TCN)

The alchemy of Earth: Hot springs and healing waters

Wulai's hot springs are the heart of its allure. Clear, odorless, and with alkaline sodium bicarbonate, the springs gush from deep within the Earth at temperatures reaching 78°C at source.

Unlike the regimented bathhouses of Japan's onsen towns where etiquette and tradition shape the ritual, Wulai's springs are considered “free-spirited” by some locals. In past decades, riverside open-air springs allowed bathers to mingle with nature itself.

Although many of those pools were dismantled for environmental and safety reasons, a constellation of inns and hotels now channel these thermal waters into private and communal baths that offer repose after a day of exploration.

This connection between place and water resonates with Asian onsen culture more broadly, where thermal springs are celebrated not merely for physical relaxation but also for spiritual cleansing — a tradition that links Wulai in spirit if not in style to Japan’s storied bathing culture.

A local traveler in her 30s named Yang told TCN that she came here to soak in Wulai's thermal baths to mark her birthday, and added that the trip was important, almost on par with “a rite of passage.”

She said she chose Wulai to spend a restorative weekend with her boyfriend in what she called a place that felt like “Paradise on Earth.” Removed from the tempo of city life, she added, the act of bathing here carried a symbolic weight, which is important for “a shachiku,” the Japanese term translating to “corporate slave” or “company animal” often used by Taiwanese youths to describe a highly stressed employee subservient to the company.

Lin, a retired managing director from the financial sector told TCN that the area possessed a quietly purifying quality that went beyond physical comfort. She said that she knows an artist skilled in painting and sculpture who lives in Wulai after having resided in other places.

“The place settles the mind,” she noted, explaining that Wulai's gentle pace and natural surroundings made it especially suitable for older travelers. It was for this reason, she said, that she once brought her mother-in-law here for a family holiday, which turned out extremely well.

Waterfalls, forests, Wulai Scenic Train, and the Old Street

Also at the heart of Wulai's natural landscape stands the Wulai Waterfall, an 80-meter cascade that plunges with dramatic force into the valley below, often likened to a curtain of silver.

To reach it, visitors may board the Wulai Scenic Train for a short ride through forest and along riverbanks. Above the falls, the cable car to Yun Hsien Resort, a resort whose name literally means “Clouds and Fairies,” offers panoramic views of towering trees and gorges.

Wulai Old Street, an atmospheric lane threading through the town, brims with Indigenous flavors and handicrafts. Shops spill over with locally crafted textiles and woodwork, while stalls tempt with wild boar sausage, bamboo tube rice, and maqaw (mountain pepper) dishes, all reflective of the Atayal culinary palette.

Different kinds of local dishes are served on Wulai Old Street. (New Taipei City Government)
Different kinds of local dishes are served on Wulai Old Street. (New Taipei City Government)

Just a 40-minute journey by bus from downtown Taipei and its metro network, Wulai stands as a rare gift for visitors seeking respite from city life without straying far from it.

A living history: Atayal culture and colonial echoes

Long before the bustle of tourism, Wulai was an Atayal community deeply attuned to the rhythms of river and ridge. Indigenous hunters wandering up the Nanshi River Valley centuries ago are said to have first called out “Ulay” upon discovering steam rising from the earth, an exclamation that marked the beginning of a human relationship with these geothermal waters.

Visitors today can delve into this cultural lineage at the Wulai Atayal Museum, a thoughtfully curated institution on Old Street that charts tribal traditions, rituals, weaving arts, and the iconic facial tattooing once worn as rites of passage.

What sets the Wulai Atayal Museum apart is its singular curatorial focus. Unlike most Indigenous museums in Taiwan, which present a broad survey of multiple tribes, this institution is devoted almost exclusively to one people and one cultural lineage: The Atayal.

By centering its narrative on a single Indigenous community rather than a composite overview, the museum offers visitors a rarer depth of insight, allowing Atayal history, social structure, and worldview to emerge with clarity and coherence rather than being subsumed within a pan-Indigenous framework.

The legacy of modern history is no less visible. During Japanese colonial rule of Taiwan (1895–1945), Wulai was designated an “aboriginal area” under Taihoku Prefecture. The colonial administration built infrastructure — including the now-charming Wulai Scenic Train, originally a logging cart railway in 1928 — to extract timber from the vast forests.

Though logging has long ceased, the narrow-gauge railway lives on as a tourist experience, carrying visitors through verdant valley terrain to the base of Wulai's iconic waterfall.

For international travelers keen to understand Taiwan through its land and peoples, Wulai offers a synthesis of natural splendor, Indigenous history, and geothermal wonder— a place where steam rises not only from the earth but also from rich human story.