Escape to Chiang Mai

It’s time for the 49th Chiang Mai Flower Festival. We had friends visiting, and there was absolutely no question what we were taking them to. This is our event. Our turf. Our annual excuse to act like overexcited children in public.

This year it was delayed a week because of elections (normally it blooms into life the first weekend of February), and with Chinese New Year just around the corner, the city was already heaving. Chiang Mai was buzzing — lanterns, chatter, fire crackers, music — that delicious hum of something about to happen.

The night before the parade we headed into the park. And honestly? It felt like stepping into a fairy grotto.

Lights draped from trees.

Reflections dancing on the lake. Flower displays so intricate they looked almost unreal.

Everywhere you turned — colour. People posing. People preening. Children zooming around on sugar highs.

It was magical chaos, and I loved every second.

Now. The drama.

Facebook had the audacity to announce that our usual parade-watching spot was “the best place for photos.” Excuse me? That was our secret.

Naturally, it was rammed.

Gone were the hotel freebies of drinks, snacks and proper toilets. Only hotel guests now 🙁 A tragic loss. But we are seasoned professionals. We arrived early and successfully claimed a wall. A wall! For five whole hours. Victory.

And then…that sound.

I am, unapologetically, a giant child. When you hear the distant drums… the faint brass getting closer… that rising ripple of excitement in the crowd, it gives me goosebumps every time. You can feel the parade before you see it.

Then the floats arrive.

Thousands — and I mean thousands — of flowers. Orchids, marigolds, roses, blooms I can’t even name. Swirling designs. Elephants. Buddhas. Mythical creatures.

Entire dreamscapes rolling slowly past like a psychedelic garden on wheels.

My favourite The Chiang Mai night safari float

The participants somehow still look radiant despite a 6am start and a five -hour walk in from the station outside the city, looping around the moat before reaching the park.

If you point a camera at them instant energy. Smiles. Waves. Full performance mode. Honestly, they put us all to shame.

The marching bands, mostly school bands — are phenomenal. Tight formations. Huge sound. Months of practice evident in every step.

Drums pounding. Brass shining. Teenagers absolutely owning it. I really hope the photos capture even half their flair.

Then come the dancers. Flags spinning. Batons flying. Perfect catches (mostly — which makes it even better). Costumes bursting with colour. It’s a blur of joy.

There are tiny vintage-style cars carrying impossibly poised young Thai princesses.

Rickshaws with men in dresses having the absolute time of their lives — and it’s just… normal. Celebrated. Joyful. Inclusive. It’s one of the things I love most about events here.

There must have been 25 floats. Squillions of flowers. Flora, fauna, mythical beasts — the works. It’s the kind of spectacle that makes you blink and think, “Is this real?”

Then all five bands combined for the grand finale — one giant, perfectly timed, brilliantly loud wall of sound. It was magnificent.

Once the parade ends, the floats arrive outside the park so you can wander up close. And that’s when you notice the details, the intricate carving, the delicate flower placement.

Then on the outside of the park all the flower competition entries. The stunning bonsai, miniature forests that look older than civilisation. Competition winners displaying their worthy medals.

And of course food. Endless food. This is Thailand. You are never more than three steps away from something sizzling, skewered or sweet. Starvation is simply not an option.

There’s live music on a big stage, singers, full entertainment mode activated. It’s not just a parade it’s an all-day, all-night celebration of colour, creativity and community.

Our friends were completely won over. They said they’d come back next year.