I didn’t know what Taiwan would be like as a Muslim traveller. I arrived with curiosity in one hand and the usual caution in the other, the checklist many of us carry silently. Halal food? Prayer rooms? Friendly locals? Clean spaces? Would I spend half the trip Googling ingredients and adjusting expectations?
Rather than trying to answer those questions immediately, I let the days unfold.
Taiwan’s natural beauty that slows you down
Image Credit: Yasmin Zulraez/MFT
My first real pause came at the Yin Yang Sea, where blue and yellow waters swirl together in a natural contrast that looks edited even when you’re standing right in front of it. There were no elaborate viewing platforms or rigid crowd control, just open space, wind, and colour. It’s almost like Taiwan’s way of encouraging visitors to slow their pace, without instruction or signage.
Jiufen Old Street followed with a different kind of stillness. Narrow lanes climbed the hillside, red lanterns glowed softly, and food stalls released gentle clouds of steam. Even though I couldn’t eat most of the street food, the walk itself was complete. The mountain air, distant chatter, and steady rhythm of footprints reminded me that my experience here was not diminished by dietary limits.
Learning through hands and patience
Image Credit: Yasmin Zulraez/MFT
That unhurried pace carried into Taiwan’s hands-on experiences. At Tongluo Tea Factory, watching workers pluck, roll, and dry tea leaves revealed how much care lives inside repetition. The value of an experience doesn’t live only in the end result, but in witnessing patience practiced daily.
Zuo Ye Cottage deepened that awareness. During a natural indigo dye workshop, fabric emerged green before gradually turning blue as it met the air. The transformation unfolded organically. The cottage itself, with wooden beams and artisanal goods, functioned like a refuge shaped by creativity rather than urgency.
Flying Cow Ranch shifted the energy entirely. Milking cows, feeding baby goats, and watching ducks march around with authority added humour and chaos to the trip. Yet the moment that stayed with me most was meeting Liyana Yamin, a Malaysian who has made Taiwan her home.
She spoke plainly about Muslim life here, halal groceries in neighbourhood stores, mosques and prayer spaces easily searchable on Google Maps, and locals who listen carefully when religious needs are explained. When she said, “It’s easier than you think,” it sounded matter-of-fact.
That aligned with my own experience. Google Maps proved reliable for locating mosques, prayer rooms, and halal eateries. The prayer spaces I visited were clean, clearly marked, and often located inside public buildings rather than hidden away. When asking about halal food, English was generally sufficient. And when it wasn’t, staff took time to clarify ingredients instead of brushing the question aside.
Other experiences added lightness to the trip. West Lake Resortopia, LoFi Land, and Flower Home offered playful activities, from baking bread to making natural bug repellent.
Reassuring and nourishing meals
Image Credit: Yasmin Zulraez/MFT
According to Taiwan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs in 2022, the country has about 50,000 local Muslims. When international students, migrant workers, and expatriates are included, the number rises to over 300,000.
So food, which is often the biggest source of anxiety for Muslim travellers, became one of the most comforting parts of the journey. Moiz Ali served familiar warmth through roti and fragrant biryani. Yunus Halal Restaurant served halal Thai cuisine confidently.
At Zhuo Ye Cottage, vegetarian meals weren’t a compromise, but nourishing plates prepared with care. Mouna brought generous and bold, halal-certified Moroccan, Indian, and Arabian dishes. The real surprise was Chang’s Halal Beef Noodle, where rich broth, tender beef, flavour-packed dumplings, soft baozi, and crisp scallion pancakes made it feel like a discreet discovery tucked into Taipei.
Spaces that allowed me to settle
Image Credit: Yasmin Zulraez/MFT
Where I visited and spent time at also shaped how grounded I felt. Fuji Grand Hotel offered polished comfort and calm. Flying Cow Ranch gave me farm-style simplicity and cool morning air. Just Sleep Taipei blended modern design with warmth and accessibility, making it an especially easy base. Across all stays, mentioning religious needs was never awkward, and responses were respectful and straightforward.
From the Taipei 101 Observatory, the city stretched below without being overwhelming. The moment that tied everything together came at Taipei Grand Mosque, the largest and oldest mosque in Taiwan. Well-maintained and serene, it carried that familiarity that transcended geography. In that space, I wasn’t navigating differences. I was just present.
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This trip ultimately taught me that Taiwan doesn’t merely accommodate Muslim travellers, it quietly supports them. Practical needs like halal food, prayer spaces, cleanliness, and safety do not require excessive planning or constant negotiation. Comfort exists here without friction.
I came to Taiwan ready to adjust myself, to plan excessively and to compromise. Instead, Taiwan met me where I was. Through its landscape, its people, its food, and an understated attentiveness, it made space for me to fully exist. And exist, I did.
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Feature Image Credit: Yasmin Zulraez/MFT
