They say Thailand captures your heart—and gently demands that you return.
After spending just six days there, I understand why.
I’m not the adventurous type—no snorkeling, no bungee jumping for me. Instead, I travel for culture, connection, and cuisine. So before I even boarded the plane, I searched for accommodation close to city centres and bustling markets—places where life pulses at street level.
My journey began in Bangkok, where I’d planned to take the First Class sleeper train to Chiang Mai—a charming city nestled in the mountainous north. I was excited, but a few days before departure, I received a message: First Class was fully booked. I was offered a refund. And honestly? That was a blessing. With only six days to explore, a 13-hour train ride would’ve stolen precious time.
So instead, I flew from Bangkok to Chiang Mai—and it turned out to be the perfect choice.
I arrived after dark, a little disoriented and weary. But there she was—my driver, holding a sign with my name. It may sound small, but in a foreign land, at night, that kind of welcome is golden.
Chiang Mai was everything. One of my first stops? The market.
For me, markets are the soul of any country. You hear the real language there, feel the rhythm of daily life, and meet the people who truly define a place—not in brochures, but in spirit.
I wandered the aisles, buying sweet mangoes, juicy rambutan, and long kong—an exotic fruit I’d never tasted before. I let the scents, textures, and colors guide me. I let myself get lost in it.
One of my most memorable experiences? A tuk-tuk ride through the city at night. The wind in my face, the lights flickering past—it was magical.
But be warned: tuk-tuk rides are bumpy, and if you’re not holding on, the road might toss you about! The other thing? Drivers can spot a tourist from a mile away. My first ride—just ten minutes—cost me 500 baht. I’m almost certain I was scammed.
But later in the trip, I hired a tuk-tuk and driver for the entire day—1,500 baht—and it was worth every cent. He knew the city intimately, guiding me through temples, hidden cafés, and local hotspots. At the end of the day, I gave him a generous tip. He earned it.
Let’s talk about food. Street food in Chiang Mai is a revelation.
I dined at humble food stalls and hole-in-the-wall eateries all around the city. Each meal cost around 100 to 200 baht—that’s roughly 5 to 10 New Zealand dollars. From spicy noodles to grilled meats, from coconut-rich curries to crispy spring rolls—it was all bursting with flavour.
But more than the taste, it was the experience of standing in line, pointing to something sizzling, and sharing a table with strangers who quickly became friends. That, to me, is the heart of travel.
Toward the end of my journey, I realised I could squeeze in the sleeper train experience on the way back to Bangkok for my flight.
It sounded romantic. The hum of the tracks, the sway of the carriages, a final glimpse of Thailand through a train window.
But the reality? Not quite.
The toilets were not exactly sanitary, and sleep came in scattered moments. The compartments were narrow, and the movement of the train made deep rest almost impossible. Honestly, I’m glad I did it once—but I’d probably never do it again.
And yet—there was a silver lining. On that sleeper train, I met a young girl and her mother—migrants from Cambodia. The daughter was no more than twelve, but she was bright, curious, and impressively fluent in English.
We struck up a conversation. She told me about school and asked thoughtful questions. When I shared that I was a teacher of English, she beamed and said, “Then I’m using this as my chance to practise with you!”
She became my little interpreter, helping me communicate with her mother, bridging cultures with ease and confidence. And sharing her desire of being a flight attendant. When we arrived in Bangkok and parted ways, I wished her well.
“I hope to see you again one day,” I said. “Maybe as my flight attendant on another journey.”
Thailand gave me more than a holiday. It gave me moments of laughter, wonder, humility, and connection. And yes, it held my heart—just as they say it would.
Until next time, Thailand. You were unforgettable.
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