Roaming Towards Myself

Chiang Mai!

When I travelled to Chiang Mai, life back in Australia was already shifting.

My house was on the market and I knew something in my life was changing, even if I couldn’t fully see what that meant yet.

Leaving Australia felt strange. Looking out the plane window as the sun rose above the clouds, I remember thinking how uncertain everything felt back home.

But Chiang Mai turned out to be exactly the place I needed to land.

Walking through Chiang Mai’s old city felt like stepping into layers of history. The old brick gates still stand quietly in the middle of busy streets, watching scooters, markets and everyday life swirl around them.

Markets seemed to appear everywhere. Small stalls selling brooms made from dried grasses, baskets, tools and everyday things locals actually use. It was simple, practical and completely fascinating to wander through.

Temples were everywhere too. Some quiet and peaceful, others full of colour and intricate detail. One morning I stood beneath a huge golden Buddha statue, the kind of place that makes you feel small in the best possible way as the early morning light caught the gold.

Some moments were just simple travel pleasures. Street food cooked right there on the footpath. Sweet potatoes roasting slowly over charcoal. The smell of smoke drifting through the warm evening air.

Other moments were quieter. Walking through gardens where orchids hung delicately from branches and huge tangled trees stretched their roots in every direction.

I also travelled north to the Golden Triangle, where Thailand, Laos and Myanmar meet. The river moved slowly past temples and hills, and it felt surreal standing in a place where three countries quietly touch.

As evening arrived the city shifted again. The night markets came alive with lights, smoke from grills and rows of food stalls cooking everything from dumplings to freshly grilled fish. People gathered around small tables, chatting, eating and enjoying the cooler night air.

One evening I was wandering through the night markets alone, just drifting between stalls and people. The smells of street food, music playing somewhere nearby, the buzz of the crowd.

And suddenly I heard myself say out loud, “I’m happy.”

Not to anyone in particular. Just acknowledging the moment.

For someone who has struggled with mental health for a long time, that moment mattered more than any sightseeing list or travel plan.

It was the first time in a long time that I had stopped long enough to really notice how I felt inside.

Looking back now, Chiang Mai wasn’t just another destination.

It was a quiet turning point.

A place where I realised I was beginning to listen to my inner voice more closely.

And perhaps, without fully realising it at the time, it was one of the first real steps in my journey of roaming towards myself.