I had a full day off during my stay with Siddharth and his bright, curious niece. Thanks to a recommendation from N-san, a long-time Japanese city resident, I discovered a charming Airbnb tucked away in the heart of Nimmanhaemin. This neighbourhood feels like Chiang Mai’s hidden gem—lined with cosy cafés, artsy boutiques, and the warm scent of roasted coffee beans drifting through the air.
One afternoon, N-san took me to Chiang Mai University for coffee. The campus was a burst of green—lush, vast, and wild, with birds darting through the branches and lizards sunbathing undisturbed.
We found a shaded bench and talked for hours, conversations meandering like a lazy River Ping, drifting from one topic to the next. Next time I return, I’d love to visit the nearby onsen hot springs with her and unwind with a massage—though I must admit, I usually prefer machines over human hands.
And that’s precisely what I did. I surrendered myself to a massage chair in Maya, a large shopping mall near our stay. Its rhythmic pressure offered a quiet sanctuary in the midst of movement—just me, the hum of the machine, and a gentle return to balance.
Maya is Chiang Mai’s largest mall, and perhaps its most curious feature stands right outside the main entrance: a golden Ganesha statue, prominently flanked by pride flags and vibrant decorations—a beautiful blend of reverence and inclusivity.
Inside, I picked up a few Thai souvenirs, including several packs of Cha Tra Mue—aromatic tea leaves and bags full of the flavour I’ve grown fond of.
> (For the uninitiated: Cha Tra Mue is a beloved Thai tea brand, known for its bold taste and vivid colour.)
The weather during our five-day stay remained steady. It was hot and humid, with no rain in sight. Oddly enough, the dry skies worked in our favour—Siddharth’s niece found accommodation easily and at a reasonable cost, which was the primary reason for our visit.
Everything seemed to fall into place with quiet ease. And much of that ease, we owed to our French friend Y-san, who supported us every step of the way, never showing the slightest sign of fatigue.
On our final Sunday night in the city, we strolled through the famous Sunday Night Market near Tha Phae Gate. The market stretched out endlessly, buzzing with a lively crowd of visitors from all over the world.
We wandered with no particular destination, caught up in the colourful maze of handmade goods and sizzling street food. I picked up two pairs of light cotton Thai pants—one for my mother and another for her friend—at a cheerful 99 Baht each.
On our final day, we departed from Chiang Mai International Airport—a modest terminal for the number of travellers it serves. Just past 4 p.m., we boarded a flight to Don Mueang Airport in Bangkok, and from there, caught the midnight AirAsia Thai flight bound for Narita, Tokyo.
Oddly enough, I love that schedule. No awkward meal times. No need for in-flight entertainment. Just a few quiet hours in the air—time enough to think, rest, and gently carry Chiang Mai’s stillness back with me.
