Chiang Mai: A cultural, culinary journey through Thailand’s ‘Rose of the North’

From farmers’ parades to soulful spas and bustling night markets, Chiang Mai unfolds as Thailand’s serene, spiritual heart

  • PUBLISHED: Thu 25 Sept 2025, 10:16 PM
  • By:
  • Charukesi Ramadurai

It is late afternoon and I am just dozing off with a book in hand, when I am woken up by the steady thud of soft drumbeats outside my room at the Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai. Stepping out to the verandah, I see that the fine drizzle from the morning has given way to brilliant sunshine. The paddy crops seem to be shining with renewed brilliance, their green stalks swaying gently in the breeze.

As I watch, a procession of men and women clad in loose cotton clothes and conical bamboo hats snakes through the muddy pathways outside the guest rooms on to the narrow trails within the paddy fields, drumming and singing in low-pitched unison. As it turns out, this is the daily Farmers Parade tradition at the resort that signals the end of a long and hard day in the rice fields of this region in north Thailand. It is fitting, given that this resort is built in traditional Lanna style, with all living and dining areas encircling a large rice field set right in the middle.

When I head into town, roughly an hour’s drive away from the resort, the song of the farmers is replaced by the chanting of the monks. Chiang Mai, with its rolling hills and verdant valleys, is unlike any other place in Thailand I have been to. Here, it’s Buddhist temples instead of beach shacks, with visitors seeking the stillness that comes from chasing waterfalls and rainbows instead of the thrills that come from surfing and snorkeling.

There’s a vibe to Chiang Mai that can be best described as spiritual chic. On my aimless ramble in the town centre, I see golden stupas gleaming softly under the morning sun and orange-robed monks immersed in their meditative prayers. The main thoroughfare is lined with bustling cafés and upscale boutiques, and at the distant end, I can see the Tha Phae Gate that used to protect this walled town area, home to nearly 300 wats (Buddhist temples).

Despite being Thailand’s second-largest city, Chiang Mai moves to a gentle pace, with none of the crowds and chaos I associate with Bangkok. Originally founded in 1296, Chiang Mai served as the fortified capital of the Lanna kingdom until 1558, when it fell under Burmese control. Contemporary Chiang Mai is a far cry from its days as a political nerve centre, but it still retains a wealth of cultural treasures.

Obviously, I can’t visit all of Chiang Mai’s wats on a single trip, or perhaps, even a lifetime. But I do want to see the highlights, and so I begin with the most venerable of them all, Wat Phra Singh. Translated as the Temple of the Lion Buddha, the complex is dotted with numerous shrines and prayer halls, decorated with intricate wood and stone carvings, and exquisite wall murals depicting the daily lives of kings and commoners.

In comparison to these gilded façades, Wat Chedi Luang, located around the corner, looks more sedate. But it was once the region’s biggest stupa, and housed the sacred Emerald Buddha before it was moved to a temple within Bangkok’s Grand Palace. I have time and energy for only one more wat before I succumb to the heat and exhaustion, so I hop into a tuktuk for a ride to Wat Sri Suphan, or the Silver Temple, with the outer and inner walls covered in a fine coat of silver, and embellished with statues and cravings.

Back at the resort, I discover the perfect way to recover from a long day of temple hopping — an indulgent session at the inhouse Wara Cheewa Spa. My scrub and massage treatment is called ‘rose of the north’ in honour of Chiang Mai itself, and makes use of innately local products like rose petals and jasmine rice. After two hours at the healing hands of my skilled masseuse, I feel like a whole new person as I head for dinner to Khao restaurant, where I savour Khao Soi, the fragrant noodle soup I had first tasted in Myanmar.

At my cooking class at Rim Thai Kitchen restaurant the next morning, I learn that Northern Thai cuisine is subtle and distinctive, borrowing influences from its nearest neighbours Laos and Myanmar. After lunch, I walk over to the rustic Chaan Baan workshop — named after the outside verandah of a Thai home — to try my hand at Lanna style pottery and tie-dye traditions.

As the heat of the day finally begins to subside, I make my way to the hilltop Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, another temple of great cultural significance to locals. I huff and puff my way up the 306 stone steps flanked by the twin Naga (serpent) statues on either side, meandering all the way up the staircase. But the climb is entirely worth the effort. The gilded temple spires are sparkling in the late evening sun; devotees are prostrating in front of various shrines; groups of monks are chanting in soft tones. And down below, all of Chiang Mai is spread out like a patchwork quilt. Despite the throngs of ardent believers and curious visitors, there is an incredible sense of peace and calm at this spot.

Meanwhile, the weekend night market has come to life on Chiang Mai’s main street, shut off to vehicular traffic for the evening. I browse lines of stalls filled with the cutest, quirkiest souvenirs — and I want to buy them all. From silk scarves and scented candles to carved wooden bowls and handmade paper notebooks, there is so much local craft on offer. And then there are the seemingly endless food stalls, which attract the largest crowds. As a vegetarian, I find myself some piquant tofu skewers and som tam (papaya salad), with a final order of luscious mango with sticky rice.

Back in my room, I fall asleep to the soothing hum of cicadas and the faint scent of jasmine in the air. It doesn’t get more quintessentially Thai than this.  

wknd@khaleejtimes.com