I’m Taiwanese, and I write from Taiwan — an island most people abroad know for semiconductors and democracy, but which I know as something else entirely: a place of 3,000-meter peaks, forgotten mountain railways, and hot springs tucked into valleys most maps don’t bother naming. Much of it I’ve explored with my family in tow, and that shapes what I notice — whether a trail is doable with kids, where a hot spring is worth the detour, which “easy” hike really isn’t.
Taiwan is home. But if you ask any Taiwanese traveler where they go most, the answer is almost always Japan — and I’m no exception. I’ve been more than 50 times: chasing remote train lines, soaking in hot springs with no English signage, wandering coastal towns most guidebooks skip, and hiking peaks I still can’t pronounce correctly.
I don’t speak Japanese. But a Japanese friend once told me, half-joking, half-serious: “You know how to travel Japan better than we do.” I’ve never forgotten that. It’s exactly what I try to offer here — not textbook itineraries, but the kind of route knowledge that only comes from going back again, and again, and again.
By day, I work in finance in Taipei. But for over a decade, writing has been where I actually live. My Chinese-language blog, Travel Notes (旅行筆記), has grown to over 300 articles — many of them ranking at the top of Chinese search results for the very places I write about, from obscure mountain peaks to hidden train stations most travel sites don’t even know exist. No sponsorships, no paid placements, ever. Every trip documented there is one I paid for and took myself.
For years, that writing was just for Chinese-speaking readers. This English site is the next step — bringing the same firsthand standard to a wider audience: real routes, real conditions, real trade-offs, not polished tourism-board copy. If you travel with kids, or just want to know what a place is really like before you go, that’s exactly who I write for.
One thing I should clear up: yes, my name is spelled exactly like the global tech company’s. It’s a coincidence of romanization — 華維 and 華為 are different Chinese characters, with different meanings, that happen to share the same pinyin. I’ve had this name since long before the company existed, and I’m not related to it in any way.
Lu Huawei is a person, not a product line. This is my own journal — no sponsorships, no agendas, just the real experience of walking through Taiwan, Japan, and wherever else the trail leads next.
Welcome. Grab a pack, and let’s go.