Sometimes the best travel days are the ones you don’t plan. With Chiang Mai still buzzing, we decided to escape to the next mountain along, Doi Saket, about a 40 minute ride away. We’d been before and loved it: winding roads, coffee growers, and lots of coffee shops. The plan was simple, enjoy the ride, have lunch out and drink good coffee. Naturally, the plan lasted about five minutes.
We got lost. Which, as it turns out, was exactly what we were meant to do.
Perched on a hill we spotted an enormous statue and temple, clearly still under construction. Curiosity won. We parked up and wandered around what turned out to be the largest statue I’ve ever seen on top of a half built temple, and utterly impressive. Then we heard it, what sounded like fireworks, and music.
Looking out over the countryside, we thought we knew where it might be coming from. Moments later, we were back on the bike, following a stream of people in colourful tribal dress, all riding in the same direction. When in doubt, follow the locals, especially when they’re clearly heading somewhere interesting.
We arrived at a clearing with what looked like a maypole attached to a tree (slightly undercover), a church, and dozens of people sitting around. Children were gleefully throwing firecrackers, running wild, and having the time of their lives, refreshingly phone-free and gloriously chaotic.
We’d barely dismounted when a man came over, greeted us warmly, asked where we were from, and then, in perfect English, invited us to stay for the New Year celebrations of three Lahu villages. Music, dancing, lunch, the whole day. “Please stay,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
We were the only non-Lahu people there, accidental gatecrashers at a major celebration, and yet we were welcomed like honoured guests. Everyone wore traditional dress. We learned they were Christians, with strong English thanks to years of missionary visits. Over the course of the day, all three village heads came to speak with us, along with two pastors and a man who now lives in Sydney. It was deeply humbling.
The dancing began..and didn’t stop. Men led the way, playing flutes, drums and cymbals, circling the central pole. One dancer at the front jumped, kicked, stamped and twirled, changing steps every few minutes while everyone followed.
Then the women joined, forming a second circle around the men, moving in the opposite direction, line dancing style, with drums, cymbals and small gongs. It was mesmerising, joyful, communal, and full of life.
Around the edges, children played endlessly. No phones. No distractions. Just pure, old-school fun.
We were plied with cold drinks, trays of biscuits, and enormous sunflower seeds while we watched it all unfold. Then lunch arrived, potato soup with a little meat, glass noodles, fresh cabbage leaves, spicy chilli dip, red sticky rice and white rice, all served on a large leaf. It was delicious — and we ate every last bite, much to the delight of the people sitting around us.
After lunch came singing, then, after a few songs, one man stood up and announced he would sing English songs for the “honoured guests.” At this point I was at serious risk of dehydration from blubbing. The kindness, the inclusion, the generosity — all shown to two strangers who had simply stumbled into their celebration — was overwhelming.
More dancing followed. More conversations. We asked what people did for work and learned that while some were coffee farmers and orange growers many worked in the city, in banks, shops, and running their own businesses. Tradition and modern life, side by side.
Eventually, I was beckoned into the dance myself by a line of smiling women who clearly weren’t taking no for an answer. Resistance was futile.
As we were leaving, our new friend said, “Please come again next year.” And we absolutely will.
This day — unplanned, unexpected, and unforgettable — is what makes Thailand, and its wonderfully varied people, so incredible. It was also a gentle reminder of something many of us in the Western world have lost: true community spirit. And sometimes, all it takes to find it is getting a little bit lost.
Chris and Sigrid’s excellent adventure 
What an incredible adventure! Such lovely people ❤️
LikeLike