Raya Heritage

After you’ve traveled a cumulative 24 hours – from New York City to Guangzhou China to Chiang Mai in Thailand – there is nothing, and I mean nothing, like walking into riverfront sanctuary Raya Heritage. We arrived after dark, at around 9pm on a Friday night, and when I stepped foot into the lobby, I felt like bursting into tears. I was home. 

Our bags were quickly whisked away by a bellman, as a woman dressed in a white robe appeared seemingly out of nowhere to greet us. Maybe it was the jetlag, or maybe it was the airplane wine, but I could swear she was floating. ‘Sawadee ka, welcome to Raya Heritage,’ the woman said, in the kind of gentle tone that’s typically reserved for spas and libraries.

Moments later, she presented us with the most magical cup of chilled lotus tea, and a cold, lemongrass-scented towel. Pressing it onto my swollen face and inhaling deeply, I almost forgot that I hadn’t showered, brushed my teeth, or slept in a bed for more than a day. ‘You must be tired,’ the gorgeous floating woman in the white robe said. ‘Get some rest and we’ll show you around in the morning.’

She then took us to our room, which was not, in fact, just a room – it was a stunning 800-square-foot suite with a private terrace that overlooked the Ping River. As I picked my jaw up off the floor, our luggage arrived. Rather than unpacking, we decided to grab a late-night bite at Khu Khao, the resort’s signature restaurant. The meal would be our entree into the culinary excellence we’d enjoy here over the next three days.

We sat down and were immediately greeted by our warm, welcoming server, who could tell – based on my haggard, bleary-eyed appearance – that I’d just arrived after a heavy-duty journey. We pored over two menus (one for Khuo Khao, and one for the Tea Terrace, which serves lighter fare), but were paralysed by indecision. Each dish sounded more incredible than the next. The paradox of choice was far too much for two sleep-deprived travellers to bear. 

‘Might I suggest ordering something familiar? Maybe one of our western-style dishes, like spaghetti?’ We looked at him bewildered. We certainly hadn’t come all the way to Thailand for spaghetti. ‘I only suggest it because it will be easier on your stomach. Sometimes our guests aren’t used to the spicy Thai food right away, so I tell people to ease into it.’ We thanked him for the suggestion and then blatantly ignored his advice. We were ready to dive in. The first dish to arrive was Shan-style minced-pork meatballs seasoned with ginger, garlic, shallot and coriander; the second was a coconut curry with river prawns and mushrooms. It was one of the best meals I’d had in months. Every flavour sang; every herb tasted like it had been picked from the garden that day.

In a Thai-chili-induced haze, we stumbled back to our room, pulled the blackout curtains shut and prepared for some shuteye. (It’s worth mentioning that the cloud-like beds and buttery soft linens at Raya Heritage are deserving of their own separate review.) When I rolled over in the morning to check the time on my phone, I was appalled to see that it was 5am. However, if there’s one good thing about jetlag, it’s that you usually get rewarded in the form of a killer sunrise – and I was rewarded indeed. I pulled back the curtains, and seeing the view for the first time in daylight made all 24 hours of travel worth it. As a high-strung New Yorker, ‘relaxed’ is not a sensation I often identify with. But as I sat on the terrace, sipping my coffee while soaking in the gorgeous morning light, I was undeniably at ease. Coupled with the sound of the river flowing and the birds chirping, it felt like an out-of-body experience.

In an attempt to prepare for the copious amount of noodles I planned on eating over the course of my trip, I decided to pop into the gym before breakfast, where I found a refrigerator stocked with more lemongrass-scented cold towels – a thoughtful touch that I very much appreciated. After my workout, I went light on breakfast – the ‘cloudy eggs’ (baked beaten egg whites with chives) are every bit as fluffy as they sound. Then I headed to the spa for a Signature Raya massage. My therapist spent a glorious 75 minutes proving to me that no one – not even the Swedish – has mastered massage quite like the Thais have.  

The next three days were a relaxing repetition of my first 24 hours: a few workouts, another massage, afternoon cocktails by the pool, and two more mind-blowingly delicious dinners at Khu Khao. All the while, the impeccable staff – dressed in their white robes and linen pants – didn’t miss a beat. They made it their mission to ensure we didn’t lift a finger throughout the entire stay. By check-out, I had all but forgotten about the trouble it took us to get to Chiang Mai. In fact, I was willing to go through the arduous journey all over again if it meant returning to Raya Heritage.