[Big read] Banned or not, Taiwanese keep heading to mainland China anyway

(Edited and refined by Candice Chan, with the assistance of AI translation.)

Cross-strait tourism is once again caught in the middle of Beijing-Taipei tensions.

After mainland China on 12 April unveiled ten preferential measures for Taiwan — including moves to restore direct cross-strait flights — Taipei responded with suspicion rather than relief. Accusing Beijing of “using business to pressure politics” under the banner of national security, the government signalled little appetite for rapprochement.

But this time, the backlash did not only come from Beijing. In a rare public rebuke, Taiwan’s tourism industry — battered by years of frozen cross-strait ties and collapsing visitor numbers — accused the government of “using politics to strangle business”, warning that ideology was threatening both livelihoods and the public’s right to travel.

Days later, a deadly tourism accident in Gansu thrust the issue back into public view. One Taiwanese tourist was killed and 12 others injured, among them two senior police officers, drawing attention to the rise of so-called “transformed tour groups”.

Under Taiwan’s ongoing restrictions on group tours to the mainland, travellers have increasingly turned to a workaround: privately assembling relatives and friends into “self-organised” groups before using travel agencies only as intermediaries. The tragedy reignited debate over the effectiveness of Taipei’s tour ban and once again stirred friction across the Taiwan Strait.

The dispute reflects a broader reality: even as official ties remain frozen, cross-strait travel demand has continued to rebound through unofficial channels.

Cross-strait tourism came to a standstill during the Covid-19 pandemic. Just as travel was set to resume in February 2024, Taiwan halted mainland tour groups over Beijing’s changes to the M503 flight route, citing aviation safety concerns. Months later, Beijing’s “22 measures against Taiwan independence” froze ties again, despite growing private exchanges.

According to statistics from Taiwan’s Tourism Administration under the Ministry of Transportation and Communications, the number of Taiwanese travelling to mainland China increased from 2.77 million in 2024 to 3.23 million in 2025. Mainland Chinese statistics, however, showed as many as 4.89 million Taiwanese visited the mainland in 2025. The discrepancy of 1.66 million trips came from travellers transiting via Hong Kong and Macau, a scale that has already exceeded pre-pandemic levels.

Under the government’s “tour ban”, Taiwanese group tours to the mainland have shifted from open operations to covert ones, and from large organised groups to fragmented arrangements.

Ms Lin, who has travelled to mainland China several times in recent years, told Lianhe Zaobao (LHZB) that travellers first gather relatives and friends themselves before contacting a travel agency to arrange the itinerary. They still meet at Taoyuan Airport, but “the tour leader simply does not carry a flag or distribute luggage tags bearing the travel agency’s logo. We are told to clear immigration ourselves and contact him on Line if anything happens, then regroup at the mainland airport before heading to the destination together.”

In an interview with LHZB, Lee Chi-yuen, deputy chairman of the Tourism and Hospitality Industry Promotion Committee under the General Chamber of Commerce and assistant professor in the Department of Tourism at Taipei City University of Science and Technology, said: “The tour ban itself is a very strange regulation. Clearly we are allowed to eat at the table, yet we are forced to sneak food in the corner.

“If travelling to the mainland violates national security, then all cross-strait flights should be stopped. Nowhere else in the world has such a system — group tours to the mainland are supposedly a national security issue, but travelling individually is perfectly fine?”

Before the pandemic, there were 60 mainland destinations accessible by direct flights from Taiwan. During the pandemic, this shrank to just four. Post-pandemic recovery has restored services to only 15 destinations across 14 cities. The sharp reduction in flights has kept ticket prices high and forced travellers to endure exhausting transit journeys.

After Kuomintang (KMT) chairman Cheng Li-wen visited mainland China in early April and met Chinese Communist Party (CCP) General Secretary Xi Jinping, Beijing called for the full restoration of routes to cities such as Urumqi and Xi’an. Taiwan’s Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) government accused Beijing of bypassing the government to unilaterally announce such measures, exposing what it called the essence of KMT-CCP dealings. It also expressed concern over excessive economic integration across the Strait, which it believes Beijing could use to advance unification through economic means.

Taiwan’s Ministry of Transportation and Communications and the Mainland Affairs Council (MAC) rejected the proposal, claiming existing routes already sufficiently met demand. They stressed that additional routes should only be considered after Beijing reopens Taiwan to mainland Chinese tour groups. The MAC even suggested travellers could transit through major cities such as Beijing and Shanghai to reach their final destinations, saying, “There are many flight options, and the fares may even be cheaper than direct flights.”

The remarks infuriated the tourism industry and Taiwanese travellers. General Chamber of Commerce chairman Paul Hsu had just returned to Taiwan via Hong Kong and encountered a tour group from southern Taiwan composed mainly of elderly travellers. He recounted that from immigration to the security checkpoint, they complained non-stop for 40 minutes: “Direct flights would have solved everything. Why make everyone suffer so much?”

Clearly angered, Hsu said the industry merely represented the survival and development of trade unions and had no intention of opposing the government. He urged the authorities not to suppress industry voices by “putting red labels” on them. Raising his voice, he declared, “We also have votes”, adding that the government should not accuse the industry of crimes without basis.

Lee Chi-yuen said average passenger load factors on cross-strait flights stand at 82% because there are indeed insufficient flights and destinations. Before 2019, a return ticket from Taipei to Beijing cost under NT$20,000 (US$637). Today, prices frequently reach NT$20,000 to NT$30,000, an increase of NT$8,000 to NT$10,000.

Because direct cross-strait flights cannot meet demand, the “Mini Three Links” routes through Kinmen and Matsu have become alternative channels.

According to a report by China News Service, statistics from Xiamen border inspection authorities showed that more than 1.43 million Taiwanese travelled via the Mini Three Links in 2025, setting a 25-year record.

Kinmen resident Mr Lee said many locals own property in Xiamen and frequently travel between the two places. He noted that the Mini Three Links are now “fully booked on every trip, with tickets extremely difficult to obtain, and local residents are already being affected”.

Chen Tzu-li, a member of the Taiwan Association for Promoting Public Health (TAPPH), travelled to Jiangxi on business last year. Unable to secure a direct flight, she bought a “Kinmen-Xiamen one-stop package”, flying from Kaohsiung to Kinmen, then travelling through Xiamen before boarding a high-speed rail service northwards. “The Taiwan-Kinmen route was really packed, with huge crowds,” she said. She rejected the MAC’s claim that transit routes were cheaper: “Who would choose a transfer flight if direct flights were available?”

Given the frosty political relations, why are Taiwanese still flocking to mainland China for tourism?

Wu Ying-liang, chairman of the Travel Agent Association in Taiwan, said: “The mainland’s infrastructure is now very good. Problems people used to criticise, such as toilet conditions, have improved greatly, and the overall tourism quality has risen. After the pandemic, Taiwanese tour groups also transformed — they no longer focus on cheap shopping tours, and the return rate is quite high.”

A sense of safety is another key factor. In recent years, frequent pickpocketing and robberies in Europe have left Taiwanese travellers wary. Ms Liu, who works in home care services, recounted how she and her relatives were pickpocketed of NT$50,000 in Italy last year, and how a tour guide who pointed out the thief was beaten by a surrounding mob. She said: “Travelling in Europe these past few years has always made me feel on edge, like a hedgehog bristling with spikes. In mainland China, there is no need to worry about personal safety.”

To work around government restrictions, Taiwanese travellers have increasingly split into small independent groups or booked mainland travel products directly — a trend that has also exposed hidden risks.

Wu Ying-liang said many travellers now contact mainland operators directly through Xiaohongshu, Douyin and other social media platforms to arrange trips. Once disputes arise over shopping or service quality, they often have nowhere to lodge complaints.

He once saw an itinerary promoted on Xiaohongshu where “the mainland travel agency’s quoted price was about 1,500 RMB (US$220) lower per person in basic costs. How could they possibly avoid taking tourists shopping once they arrived?”

Wu urged the government to consider public sentiment, market demand and overall economic development, and gradually increase flights rather than allowing consumers to lose their rights in a grey area.

Lee Chi-yuen, however, was pessimistic. He argued that cross-strait tourism had evolved from a livelihood and economic issue into a political indicator. “Opening up symbolises reconciliation and easing tensions across the Strait; not opening up symbolises the DPP’s fortress mentality and continued anti-China, pro-Taiwan stance.”

“The mainland is completely different from what I imagined!”

In recent years, more and more young Taiwanese visiting mainland China for the first time have voiced such amazement. Driven by Xiaohongshu, Douyin and other social media platforms, the trend of travelling to the mainland is gradually spreading from older generations to younger ones.

Ms Lee, who works in banking, told Lianhe Zaobao that her mother had visited the mainland 20 years ago after retirement, while she herself had travelled to the US and Japan but never to China. “Now my clients are constantly returning from Jiuzhaigou or Zhangjiajie and telling me the mainland has the best food, the language is familiar, it’s safe, and no country is more beautiful. Tibet is a must-visit in one’s lifetime...”

Under the KMT’s earlier anti-communist education, mainland China was portrayed as authoritarian and repressive. Young people tended to travel to the US and Japan, while middle-aged and elderly travellers preferred the mainland because of the shared language and absence of time differences. During the DPP’s 10 years in power, the mainland has been portrayed as an aggressor intent on annexing Taiwan, while pro-DPP media often describe everyday life there as impoverished and infrastructure as backward, creating fear among the public.

Thirty-year-old Chen Yan, who describes himself as politically neutral though from a blue-leaning family, has visited seven or eight mainland provinces. He previously told his siblings how much progress the mainland had made and worried about possible cross-strait conflict. However, many of his friends lean slightly green politically and dislike the mainland because they fear authoritarianism and the loss of democracy.

Chen told Lianhe Zaobao that after visiting Japan and South Korea and seeing many beautiful and interesting images of mainland China on Instagram, he travelled independently to Guangzhou with friends in 2024. The convenient mobile payment systems, electric vehicles everywhere, low prices and well-planned urban infrastructure left him astonished. “The experience was really good. The food was delicious and cheap. The robots and drone performances, Huawei and BYD — it was all so cool. It was far more advanced than I imagined.”

His six-day trip to Guangzhou cost just over NT$20,000, compared with trips to Japan or South Korea that often exceed NT$30,000, making it extremely cost-effective. In early 2026, he visited Shanghai and Hangzhou again. Coming out of the high-speed rail station and seeing the grand urban planning and the classical beauty of West Lake, he excitedly declared: “Next time, I want to visit Beijing to see the Great Wall, and Harbin to see the ice sculptures.”

Chen Tzu-li said she noticed “de-sinicisation” content in her son’s primary school social studies textbook, which treated the Qing dynasty as though it were a foreign country, even though children could not understand that it was simply a dynastic transition within Chinese history. She said: “We do not want our children to see only Taiwan’s textbooks. We want them to experience things for themselves.”

In recent years, she and her husband have taken their two sons to Xiamen and Chongqing, allowing the children to buy metro tickets and use Alipay to make purchases. Seeing the advanced metro systems, convenient payment methods and streets filled with electric vehicles shattered their stereotype that “the mainland is backward”.

When returning to Taoyuan Airport from Chongqing late last year, her son, then in Primary Five, suddenly remarked: “Why does Taiwan feel so backward?”

She felt this impression perhaps stemmed from the contrast between Chongqing’s vibrant urban environment and Taoyuan Airport’s suburban surroundings. Still, she hoped her son would form his own views and judgement through personal experience, rather than merely following popular opinion.

Will this tourism boom gradually reshape Taiwanese people’s political identity?

Ms Lin, who leans slightly blue politically, visited Shanghai more than 20 years ago and returned with her husband early last year. She felt that “people in the mainland used to speak loudly and directly and were impatient, but now they are much more polite and courteous. Service attitudes have improved greatly, management is more orderly, and there really has been tremendous progress”.

Her husband is a DPP supporter. She said: “Previously he never even considered travelling to the mainland. This time it was a company group tour. After personally seeing Shanghai’s development and technologies such as robots, his impression changed somewhat. At the very least, he no longer rejects it outright.”

Chen Yan admitted that his impression of the mainland had indeed improved, though he also understood clearly that “the mainland will never allow Taiwan independence”.

Chen Tzu-li added that some of her relatives support the DPP, yet after travelling to the mainland on business they praise its progress and convenience while still voting the same way. “Acknowledging the mainland’s modernisation and progress does not mean embracing its political system.”

Taiwanese outbound tourism surged strongly in 2025, with 18.944 million departures, up 12.43% from 2024 and setting a new historical record. Inbound visitors reached only 8.57 million, recovering to just 72% of pre-pandemic levels, highlighting the stark contrast between “hot outbound travel and cold inbound tourism”.

While tourism industries worldwide have seen post-pandemic recovery, Taiwan’s tourism sector still seems stuck in winter. Beyond the lack of mainland Chinese tourists, another awkward reality is that accommodation prices are so high, that many people complain Taiwan is simply “too expensive to travel to”.

Average hotel room rates in Taiwan frequently start at NT$5,000 during weekends and holidays. Wu Ying-liang explained: “Hotels have fixed staffing costs. If occupancy reaches 90%, unit costs decline. But now occupancy averages only around 50%. If hotels charge the old prices, every day of operation means losses. The only solution is to attract more visitors to Taiwan.”

Lee Chi-yuen added that labour costs in Taiwan are high, visitor flows are concentrated on weekends, overseas visitor numbers are declining and Taiwanese themselves are travelling abroad, all of which keep unit costs elevated and force hotels to maintain high prices.

The insufficient volume of tourists has caused domestic tourism in Taiwan to deteriorate steadily.

The opening to mainland Chinese tourists once brought Taiwan’s tourism industry to its peak. After cross-strait ties deteriorated and mainland visitors disappeared, tour coach drivers suffered the greatest blow.

Cheng Chun-chou, chairman of the Tour Coach Passenger Transport Quality Assurance Association, revealed that during the industry’s peak in 2016 there were 927 operators and 17,400 tour coaches. By March this year, only 888 operators and 13,750 coaches remained.

She lamented: “From our glory days to now, our industry has become so miserable. Drivers have left for other sectors; some even jumped to their deaths. Many bosses have gone bankrupt. We support so many families, yet we ourselves cannot survive.”

Besides the disappearance of mainland tourists and weak demand, Taiwan’s tourism industry also faces a longstanding structural problem. Taiwan is known as a treasure island, blessed with beautiful mountains, rivers, warm hospitality and excellent food. Yet inadequate transport links in central and southern Taiwan mean that stunning scenery remains tantalisingly close but difficult to access.

Government measures have largely focused on subsidies and marketing campaigns. While these may provide temporary relief, they fail to address the root causes. To revitalise tourism, Taiwan must identify its own unique local attractions and establish convenient public transport. Only by first retaining its own people can it hope to attract visitors from around the world.

This article was first published in Lianhe Zaobao as “向着对岸美景奔赴 ​​​​​官方​​​禁止我照上路 台年轻人：观光无关政治”.

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