The Sound Comes First
You hear the pilgrimage before you see it. A low rumble of firecrackers somewhere down the road, then drums, then the murmur of thousands of voices moving together. By the time Mazu’s palanquin comes into view — gold and red, rocking gently on the shoulders of eight men — the noise is physical, a pressure in your chest.
The Dajia Mazu Pilgrimage (大甲媽祖遶境進香) is Taiwan’s largest annual religious event. Nine days, eight nights, roughly 340 kilometers on foot, from Dajia Zhenlan Temple in Taichung to Fengtian Temple in Xingang, Chiayi County, and back. The palanquin passes through over 100 temples across four counties. Somewhere around three million people join in over the course of the event — though how anyone counts that accurately is beyond me.
The 2026 pilgrimage is expected around early April — the exact departure date gets determined by divination each year and usually isn’t confirmed until a few weeks beforehand. Check the official Zhenlan Temple website closer to the date.
Two Hundred Years of Walking This Road
Mazu is the goddess of the sea, protector of fishermen and sailors. Her worship came to Taiwan with Fujian immigrants centuries ago and took root along the island’s coastline. The Dajia pilgrimage has been running for over 200 years, making it one of the oldest continuously observed folk religious events in East Asia.
UNESCO added Mazu belief and customs to its Intangible Cultural Heritage list in 2009, which is the kind of recognition that feels both deserved and slightly beside the point. The pilgrimage doesn’t need a UNESCO designation to draw millions of people — it was doing that long before anyone in Geneva noticed.
What makes it different from, say, the Camino de Santiago or the Hajj is the radical openness. No registration, no tickets, no credentials. You just show up and walk. The grandmother in temple slippers, the tattooed guy carrying incense, the office worker burning through vacation days — everyone is just a pilgrim. There’s something disarming about that.
The Departure Is the Loudest Thing You’ll Ever Hear
The pilgrimage kicks off at Dajia Zhenlan Temple. The departure ceremony is — and I’m not exaggerating — one of the most intense sensory experiences Taiwan has to offer. Tens of thousands of people crush into the streets around the temple. The firecrackers are constant and genuinely startling, even if you think you’re prepared. Incense smoke gets so thick you can taste it.
The exact departure time comes from divination, and the temple usually announces it only days before. In recent years it’s typically been late at night — around 11 PM — which adds to the atmosphere. The palanquin emerges into a wall of sound and smoke, and the procession begins.
Bring earplugs. Seriously. The firecrackers near the palanquin can damage your hearing. This isn’t a suggestion you can ignore.
Walking Through the Middle of Taiwan
The route heads south from Dajia through Changhua and Yunlin counties to Xingang in Chiayi, then loops back on a slightly different path. You walk through rice paddies, factory districts, small towns where the entire population seems to have come out to the road, and stretches of highway shoulder that are less picturesque but perfectly real.
The rhythm settles into something meditative after a few hours: walk, pray, rest at a temple, eat, walk again. At each temple stop, lion dances and dragon dances welcome Mazu. The overnight resting points (zanting, 駐駕) turn into all-night festivals — traditional opera, puppet shows, and crowds of people praying and socializing until dawn.
The ritual performance groups are worth watching closely. The Eight Generals (八家將) in full face paint perform martial movements meant to clear evil spirits. Mazu’s mythical guardians — Shun Feng Er and Qian Li Yan (順風耳、千里眼) — loom overhead as enormous puppet figures. Spirit mediums in trance states are also part of the procession, and their practices can be intense. If you’re not familiar with Taiwanese folk religion, it might catch you off guard.
The Free Food Is Not a Joke
This needs its own section because it’s one of the most remarkable things about the pilgrimage. Along the entire route, local residents and community organizations set up free food stations. Not just water and snacks — full meals. Braised pork rice, noodle soup, herbal tea, fresh fruit, rice porridge at three in the morning. Families compete to be the most generous hosts.
There’s a cultural weight to this. Feeding the pilgrims is an act of devotion to Mazu, and turning down offered food can be seen as rude. Accept with gratitude, eat what you can, and say thank you. You genuinely will not go hungry.
That said, carrying your own water bottle is wise. In the gaps between food stations — especially on rural stretches — you’ll want to stay hydrated. April in central Taiwan is warm, usually between 20-28°C, and the walking is constant.
Getting There and Getting Through It
Dajia is on the Taiwan Railways coastal line. From Taipei it’s about two hours by train, or you can take the High Speed Rail to Taichung and transfer. Xingang, the turnaround point, is reachable by bus from Chiayi city, which has its own HSR station.
You don’t have to walk the whole thing. Most participants join for a day or even a few hours. The hardcore pilgrims do the full 340 kilometers, but walking even a single stretch between two temples is a complete experience.
Sleeping arrangements are rough. Serious pilgrims sleep in temples, schools, or on the ground wherever they can find space. Some bring thin sleeping pads. If you want an actual bed, book accommodation in Changhua, Xiluo, or Xingang well in advance — rooms near the route sell out. For Changhua or Taichung, Booking.com usually has decent availability if you book a few weeks out.
Shoes matter more than anything else you bring. Broken-in walking shoes, not new ones. Bring blister patches. A rain jacket, sunscreen, hat, and portable phone charger round out the essentials.
Phones will struggle. When the procession is at a major temple stop, cell service often collapses from the sheer number of connections. Download offline maps beforehand. The official Zhenlan Temple app has GPS tracking of the palanquin, which is useful for figuring out where the procession actually is.
Language: Nearly everything is in Mandarin. English signage is minimal outside the train stations. A translation app helps, but honestly, the communication barrier is lower than you’d expect — people figure out what you need and help you. Pilgrims are consistently welcoming to foreign walkers.
Where the Walk Stays With You
The big set-piece moments — the departure, the arrival at Fengtian Temple, the overnight temple festivals — are spectacular. But the parts that tend to stay with you are smaller. Walking a country road at dusk with a group of strangers who’ve been walking since dawn. Eating rice porridge from a grandmother who won’t let you leave until you’ve had a second bowl. The moment when the firecrackers stop for a few minutes and you can hear birds again.
If you want to combine the pilgrimage with broader Taiwan travel, KKday runs day tours from Taipei that handle the logistics of getting to the procession route. It’s not cheap, but it saves you the headache of figuring out transport on your own, especially if your Mandarin is limited.
I walked back to the train station at the end of one day with dust on my shoes and incense smell in my hair that didn’t come out for two washes. The guy next to me on the train was already asleep before we left the platform. Probably walked further than I did.