Aleenta Retreat Chiang Mai

We all hope a wellness hotel can restore something in us. In this case, it really had to.

I arrived at Aleenta Retreat Chiang Mai — in the city’s western corner, nestled between lofty bamboo trees and backdropped by the Doi Suthep mountains — roughly 10 hours later than planned. While packing for an early flight, my suitcase split open, suddenly unusable. Panicked attempts around Bangkok to fix it led nowhere, and the airline was unreachable due to it being a third-party booking. I eventually made an evening flight, sturdy new suitcase in tow. It wasn’t until I arrived that a sense of serenity set in. It had been a very long day.

There is something inherently calming about Thailand’s traditional carved woodwork. A façade of it greets me, setting the tone before I've even stepped inside. Exteriors at the hotel blend with the traditional Lanna architecture that characterises much of Chiang Mai, mismatched masonry and teakwood being the main players, while interiors feature natural hues and tribal tapestries adorning the walls. I was refreshed with a welcome drink of lemongrass, pandan, betel leaves and wild honey — a concoction promising to relax the body, aid sleep and relieve stress, much needed after my morning. I checked in, and made my way to my room, walking past the warm, low-lit pool with its square teal tiles. 

After a deep, cushioned sleep, I woke to birdsong and finally took in the room properly: a mezzanine bedroom above a spacious living area in soft tones, and a generously sized bathroom. Outside, a plunge pool sat behind an open-weave lattice stone wall, ivy trailing over it. I was tempted to settle in with coffee and issue 2 of Vittles, but the sun was brightening the trees, so I wandered to breakfast instead, meandering through draping willows and under an arched bamboo pathway.

I must admit I’m not much of a breakfast person. Not because I don’t appreciate a generous spread, but food writers need boundaries to survive the rest of the day’s research. So I stuck to fresh fruit, yoghurt and guava juice, though the riceberry congee was tempting.

With the hotel’s wellness focus in mind, I followed it up with a massage at its Aryuah Spa, which began with a circulation-boosting safflower tea. Alas, there wasn’t time for the other daily activities on offer, which range from yoga and meditation to sound baths, qigong and herbal-compress workshops, but the massage was phenomenally recalibrating.

I’d heard about Chiang Mai’s coffee reputation and set out to find the good stuff — always necessary, given hotel coffee, even in Michelin-starred spots, almost never delivers. Winding country roads make it hard to believe this bucolic landscape is Thailand’s second city. My destination was Sensation Coffee Roasters: Nordic-minimalist, whitewashed walls, slightly tacky branding (snowmen, reindeer, shiny gold packaging), but excellent coffee. Thai beans, processed naturally, offered notes of tropical fruit, mandarin and wild honey, smooth and supple on the palate with a clean finish. (Akha Ama, credited with starting the speciality coffee movement in the city, is your best bet in the centre — and there are four branches to choose from.)

Khao soi is Chiang Mai’s signature dish: a thick, coconut-rich, spicy broth with pickled mustard greens and egg noodles served both soft and crisp. For my first lunch, I was aiming for the famed spot in Baan Kang Wat, an artistic pedestrianised village known for its ceramics, studios and woven fabrics. There, cooks in straw hats tend to huge cauldrons of turmeric-hued broth, steam rising. Instead, I ended up across the street, somewhere also called Baan Kang Wat Khao Soi. The noodles were bouncy, the broth rich but light enough for lunch, and the mustard greens had just the right amount of zing. I’d also recommend Khao So-i for a more gourmet version, with thick broth, braised beef and noodles served perfectly al dente. Here you should start with the elite dumplings and fried tofu, and finish with matcha soft-serve. Finally, I swing by Kanom Jeen Pa Pom, a modest shack near Kalm Village in the old town, recommended to me by the Bangkok chef Thitid 'Ton' Tassanakajohn, which serves khao soi with tender pork ribs. Head into Kalm afterwards for wonderful textile exhibitions and a sweeping vista of Wat Chedi Luang.

Some more food tips if you're interested: I had pad krapow a couple of times. First, a modern twist with pork belly crisped to golden perfection at KaPaO, a new spot from Win Srinavakool (of Khao So-i ). The second — classic, with saffron-hued duck yolks with crispy whites topping fiery, fragrant pork mince on rice — was at Kaprao Nueanuea, a 10-minute walk from the hotel. The street stand marks the start of a night market worth wandering. I couldn’t resist a few skewers here too: moo krob and intestines, caramelised to amber-edged, sweetly porky perfection, cut through by zesty seafood sauce.

And laab (or larb), a typical Thai salad and the unsung hero of the city, shouldn’t be missed. Laab kwai dib (with raw buffalo) has deep roots in Chiang Mai. Makwaen, the wild northern pepper, gives a subtle, numbing, citrusy kick. Win guided me to three spots, all listed only in Thai script; each laab was fresh, delicate and far superior to any beef tartare. The best? Chiang Mai Larb An Prasert, centrally located on Nimmanahaeminda Road, not far from Brine cocktail bar, if Dutch courage is needed. If raw buffalo feels too daring, the catfish laab, jackfruit salad, nam phrik num and fermented pork sausage are excellent alternatives.

I realise we food writers are a weird breed. Consuming as much as humanly possible is hardly normal behaviour. But the food in Chiang Mai is so good that I implore you to do the same. And having somewhere like Aleenta Retreat to rest in between? A total gamechanger.