Loy Krathong & Yi Peng Festival Chiang Mai:
A Night of Lights
- Written by Kenji Tanaka
- Updated October 2024
When we arrived in Chiang Mai, we thought we knew what to expect — golden temples, night markets, and the easy rhythm of northern Thailand. But nothing could have prepared us for the wonder of Loy Krathong. We had seen the pictures of rivers filled with lights and lanterns floating into the night sky, but being there in person felt like stepping into a dream.
My name is Kenji, and my wife Aiko and I traveled from Japan to Thailand specifically for this festival. Loy Krathong, known as the Festival of Lights, happens once a year on the full moon of the twelfth lunar month, usually in November. It’s a celebration of renewal, gratitude, and letting go — a night when the entire country seems to pause and glow with hope.
The Calm Before the Glow
The city was quiet just before sunset. As the golden light faded behind the mountains, locals began gathering by the riverbanks, carrying small floating offerings made of banana leaves, flowers, and candles. These are called krathongs — delicate little creations that carry prayers, wishes, and regrets downstream.
We bought ours from a smiling grandmother near the Ping River for 40 baht (just over a dollar). She showed us how to light the candle and whispered, “Make your wish, then let it go.”
Standing by the river, surrounded by hundreds of flickering lights, we each made a silent wish. Aiko’s hands trembled slightly as she placed our krathong in the water, watching it drift away among countless others. It was simple, yet deeply emotional — like saying goodbye to something invisible.
That’s the power of Loy Krathong. It’s not just a festival; it’s a gentle reminder that sometimes, letting go is the purest form of renewal.
When the Sky Came Alive
As we turned from the river, a warm glow began to rise above the city. The Yi Peng lanterns were beginning to take flight. One by one, the sky filled with thousands of paper lanterns, each carrying someone’s wish into the heavens.
We bought one from a local vendor — 100 baht, around $2.50 — and joined the crowd. Together, we held it above the flame, waiting for it to fill with air. The moment we let go, it floated upward effortlessly, carrying our hopes with it.
Around us, people cheered softly, taking photos, laughing, praying. For a few minutes, everything slowed down — no noise, no rush, just the quiet beauty of thousands of lights drifting higher and higher.
That night, the sky itself seemed alive.
Street Food, Smiles, and Small Surprises
Afterward, we wandered through the Chiang Mai Night Bazaar, drawn by the sound of music and the smell of street food.
We shared a bowl of khao soi, northern Thailand’s coconut curry noodles (60 baht, $1.60), then followed it with mango sticky rice and Thai iced tea. Musicians played by the temple gates, children laughed as fireworks sparkled overhead, and strangers smiled at us as if we had always belonged there.
One vendor handed Aiko a small flower garland as a gift. “For luck,” she said. And maybe it worked — because that night felt absolutely perfect.
Respecting the Culture and the Earth
We later learned that Loy Krathong is a way to honor Mae Khongkha, the goddess of water. It’s about gratitude for the rivers and forgiveness for what’s been taken.
We made sure to use a krathong made from natural materials — banana leaves and flowers — since some modern versions can harm the waterways. More and more people are switching to eco-friendly ones, which makes the river not only beautiful but sustainable too.
Practical Tips from Our Experience
- When to Visit: Mid-November, during the full moon.
Where to Stay: We stayed at a small boutique hotel near Tha Phae Gate — $45 per night including breakfast.
Costs: Lantern and krathong together – about 150 baht ($4).
Food: Street food feast for two – under 300 baht ($8).
Getting Around: Tuk-tuks cost 60–100 baht for short rides — always agree on the price first.
Photography Tip: Bring a tripod — the combination of river reflections and lantern-filled skies is breathtaking.
What Stayed With Us
As the night faded, we sat by the water, watching the last krathongs drift away.
Aiko leaned her head on my shoulder and whispered, “It feels like we’re sending our worries downstream.”
She was right. There was something incredibly peaceful about it — not just watching the lights, but feeling like we had let go of something we didn’t even know we were holding onto.
We didn’t talk much after that. We just watched the sky fade from gold to black, filled with floating stars that weren’t stars at all, but dreams set free.
Loy Krathong isn’t just a festival. It’s a moment of release — a chance to begin again, together.