Yi Peng Lantern Festival Chiang Mai: A Night of Light, Chaos, and Family Memories
- Rand Blimes
- May 4
- 4 min read
“Everyone needs to walk faster!” I called back to my family as we weaved and dodged around groups of milling tourists who had seemingly chosen to stand in the exact spots that would block our path with maximum efficiency.
Up ahead, glowing dots floated steadily upward, gathering into a glittering cloud of light that was hanging over Chiang Mai.
We had come to northern Thailand in late November 2015 for this exact moment—the famous Yi Peng Lantern Festival Chiang Mai—when thousands of paper lanterns rise into the night sky in a glowing release of hopes and worries.
I had made a solemn promise to witness this magical event.
And now, I was in danger of making a liar of myself.
A Family Vow, and Two Festival Wishes
When we first started planning our year-long family journey, my wife and I weighed the costs and benefits of travel for our kids carefully. The kids were excited. They had traveled before and had all been bitten by the travel bug.
But for my oldest, it was a harder decision. This would be her final year of high school. Did she really want to leave her friends behind for a whole year?
In the end, she said yes—but she had two conditions.
She wanted to be in India for Holi.
And she wanted to be in Chiang Mai for the Yi Peng Lantern Festival.
Pinkies were locked. Vows were made. I agreed.
Yi Peng Lantern Festival Chiang Mai: Light, Letting Go, and Sky Lanterns
Yi Peng (or Yee Peng) marks the end of the rainy season in Northern Thailand. It coincides with the broader Loy Krathong festival (celebrated all across Thailand and Laos), when people float banana-leaf rafts down rivers as offerings.
Yi Peng’s special touch? Khom loi—paper sky lanterns gently heated by a small flame until they rise into the heavens.
Traditionally, people whisper their worries into the lanterns before releasing them. The glow rising into the sky represents wisdom dispelling ignorance and a fresh start. Many lantern releases are held on temple grounds, honoring Buddha.
It’s beautiful. It’s spiritual. It’s also wildly photogenic.
And it was why we were now sprinting through Chiang Mai’s crowded streets.
Mae Jo University: The Missing Plan A
We had originally planned to attend the famous Mae Jo University mass lantern release. It had become the most iconic image of Yi Peng, with thousands of lanterns soaring at once.
It started as a small religious event but grew into a tourist magnet. By 2015, the authorities pulled the plug—too many people, too many safety concerns, too many poorly behaved tourists. The Mae Jo release was cancelled.
Which would’ve been fine, if we had a Plan B.
We didn’t.
The Search for a Lantern Launch
Locals suggested to us that people might gather at the Three Kings Monument in the Old City. That seemed our best bet.
We went, and the daughters and I even helped light hundreds of candles arranged around the square. But as the evening wore on, no one seemed interested in launching khom loi there.
We looked across the city. From a distant part of Chiang Mai, lanterns were rising.
We were in the wrong place. Panic!
A Family Sprint and a Tuk Tuk Gouging
We grabbed the first tuk tuk we could find (after some half-hearted bargaining—we were obviously desperate). The driver, sensing opportunity, gouged in the price us and then promptly dropped us short of our destination. We’d have to walk.
“Everyone needs to walk faster!” I shouted again, dodging groups of tourists who apparently thought “stand directly in the walking path” was the official festival posture.
But we made it.
Releasing Our Troubles (And Nearly Starting a Fire)
But everything turned out fine.
When we arrived, the lanterns were still rising. We bought one for each family member and scribbled our worries and fears inside so the lanterns would carry them away.
How to launch a khom loi:
Light the small candle inside.
Hold the lantern gently as it fills with hot air.
Wait until it tugs upward, then release.
Simple.
Unless you’re my wife.
She lit the candle, held the lantern gently, and then—violently flung it skyward. The poor lantern, still lacking the lift to fly, came plummeting back down, threatening to ignite the crowd.
At least she was contemplative and respectful as she nearly set strangers on fire.
Chaos, Beauty, and Letting Go
In the end, our lanterns rose into the night, joining thousands of others drifting toward the stars.
We had made it. I had kept my vow.
And like so many moments on the road, what started in panic and disarray ended in beauty and memory.
Because travel isn’t just about where you go. It’s also about what you’re willing to release along the way.
Comments