Wulai District

Wulai District occupies the steep foothills of the Xueshan Mountains at the southern edge of New Taipei City, Taiwan. Spanning 321.13 square kilometres, it ranks as the municipality’s largest and most rugged district. At an average elevation of 250 metres, the peaks enclosing Wulai rise sharply, their forested slopes crisscrossed by rivers and trails. The name “Wulai” originates in the Atayal phrase kilux ulay, which translates as “hot and poisonous.” According to tradition, an Atayal hunter first encountered steam rising from the Nanshi River and, mistaking its fume for a noxious vapour, gave the locale this descriptive name. Over time, the phrase was shortened to “Ulay” in the Atayal tongue and rendered as “Wulai” in Mandarin.

Home to roughly 6,300 residents as of March 2023, Wulai combines Atayal aboriginal heritage with Han Chinese settlement. Five administrative villages—Zhongzhi, Wulai, Xiaoyi, Xinxian and Fushan—organize local governance. In Atayal and Mandarin usage alike, the village names reflect both indigenous and postcolonial histories. While Han Chinese enterprises have increased, many families trace ancestry to the Atayal people, whose language and customs continue to shape everyday life.

Under Japanese rule (1895–1945), the area fell within Taihoku Prefecture and carried the designation “Aboriginal area.” Following Taiwan’s transfer to the Republic of China in October 1945, Wulai was reconstituted as a rural township of Taipei County. On June 22, 2001, President Chen Shui-bian visited a local school to preside over graduation exercises, marking one of the few national-level ceremonies held outside major cities. Six months after Taipei County’s upgrade to New Taipei City on December 25, 2010, Wulai Township gained district status to reflect its integration into the special municipality’s administrative framework.

The district’s economy hinges on its abundant hot springs and surrounding forest reserves. Clear, odorless thermal water emerges at near-boiling temperatures, and locals assert that bathing in these springs mitigates skin conditions such as ringworm, eczema and herpes. Public facilities require full cleansing before entry, nudity in gender-segregated pools, and secured hair to prevent contamination. Among the manifold bathing sites, a cluster of free rock-lined pools beside the Nanshi River attracts visitors seeking an unadorned experience: crossing the footbridge from the tourist street, one descends stone steps to riverside changing rooms and several pools, plus an open-air sauna. When river levels fall, the current permits brief dips in the cooler stream water, though swimwear is mandatory in these common areas.

Private hot spring resorts scatter along Wulai Old Street and up its flank roads. Pause Landis, at No. 88, Sec. 5, Xinwu Road, presents themed open-air rooms, a minimalist interior design and public baths overlooking the river’s opposite cliff face. Proto Spring, nestled at No. 32 Wulai Street, offers Japanese-style gender-segregated baths with four pools for NT$300. A 15-minute uphill walk from the street leads to Wulai Hot Springs Resort on Laka Road. There, public pools feature twin hot tubs, a sauna, a jacuzzi and a steam room; a NT$500 package includes one hour of bathing plus a light meal of tea and toast.

Beyond the springs, Wulai’s steep valleys and ridges host an array of hiking routes. The Xinxian Trail begins near Wulai Waterfall’s viewing platform and follows a separated footpath westward for 1.3 kilometres, passing several minor cascades before ending near the suspension bridge above Neidong Forest Reserve. Other forest roads climb into the mountains, guiding bird-watchers and campers into underused tracts where the Atayal once harvested bamboo and medicinal herbs.

The district’s principal natural landmark is the Wulai Waterfall, which plunges 80 metres into a rocky gorge. A cable car—commonly called the Wulai Gondola or Wulai Skyway—carries visitors from the waterfall’s base to Yun Hsien Resort atop the rim. This forest recreation area occupies a terrace inaccessible by road: its swimming pools, archery range, paintball field and guest lodges offer a controlled retreat amid dense stands of cypress and maple. Since obtaining an environmental education venue license in 2013, the park has hosted school groups and seminars on watershed conservation, emphasizing the role of the Wulai River as an ecological corridor for amphibians and migratory birds.

The Nanshi Valley, sometimes referred to by its Japanese-era name Youxian Gorge, stretches between the town and waterfall. Its steep cliffs display layered shale, while the river’s swirling currents reveal submerged boulders. In spring, cultivated cherry trees along the valley floor bloom in soft pink clusters, drawing day-trippers from Taipei. Wulai’s elevation brings temperatures a few degrees lower than the city, though not enough to forestall warmth in midsummer.

Cultural life centers on Wulai Old Street, a narrow lane flanked by stalls and low shops. Wooden facades bear bilingual signage in Mandarin and Atayal script. Craft vendors sell carved wooden necklaces, embroidered textiles and woven baskets. Food stalls prepare mountain ingredients: corn roasted in hot-spring steam, grilled wild boar skewers, millet sausage, eggs cooked in thermal water and bamboo-tube rice. A preparation of mochi—rice cakes shaped into fruit forms and glazed with sweet bean paste—is a speciality of local shopkeepers. These foods reflect the Atayal reliance on river fish, forest game and tubers, filtered through Han culinary techniques introduced over successive generations.

Tourist access relies on a converted Japanese-era mine train, now the Wulai Scenic Train, which carves a narrow gauge track along the riverbank from downtown to the waterfall’s edge. Since the line’s steam-engine days, operators have replaced rolling stock with diesel units, but the short ride retains its historic character. Provincial Highway 9A snakes upward through the district, linking Wulai to Xindian and beyond. The principal bus service departs Taipei Metro’s Xindian Station and terminates at Wulai Bus Station, where local shuttles fan out to village entrances and hiking trailheads.

Natural hazards have tested the district’s resilience. In August 2015, Typhoon Soudelor delivered record rainfall and floodwaters that obliterated several hotels, scoured hot spring installations and altered the Nanshi River’s course. High-velocity flow chewed away the banks, and debris blocked tributaries, prompting emergency evacuations. Post-typhoon surveys attributed the extent of landslides to unregulated development on steep slopes, which had weakened soil structure and disrupted the watershed’s ability to absorb and channel runoff. Reconstruction efforts since that event have involved stricter slope-management rules and reinforced embankments, yet balancing tourist facilities with environmental stability remains an ongoing challenge.

Wulai’s role within New Taipei City continues to evolve. Its terrain constrains large-scale construction, so local authorities emphasize low-impact tourism and cultural preservation. By nurturing the Atayal language through museum exhibits and encouraging homestays in tribal communities, the district upholds traditions while generating income. Simultaneously, the glistening pools of its hot springs, the clear rush of its waterfalls and the faint woodsy perfume of its forests provide a practical draw, sustaining Wulai’s economy without extensive urbanisation.

In a region often noted for its urban sprawl, Wulai offers a setting where thermal waters, ancient customs and mountain landscapes converge. The steam rising from river pools evokes the hunter’s first trepidation centuries ago, yet today it invites calm reflection amid surroundings shaped by both human hands and geological forces. For those who arrive by narrow-gauge train or winding highway, Wulai unfolds as a district defined by contrasts: the hard angles of shale cliffs softened by verdant moss, the sharp tang of steamed corn against the milky heat of a spring bath, and the enduring pulse of Atayal stories echoing among the pines. In these elements, Wulai sustains a regional identity that neither fully urban nor entirely wild, but tempered by history, rooted in land and carried forward by its people.