Get ready for a trip down the Pai hole. You’ll get stuck there.

To be fair, I was warned. “Be careful with Pai,” travelers said. “You’ll get stuck there.”

A mecca for free spirits and carefree living, the town, hidden in the mountains of northern Thailand, has been known to trap its guests in what is commonly known as the ‘Pai hole.’ I know this phenomenon too well. I visited once in April and came back in August. Then, I didn’t leave for two months.

It’s the rainy season when I arrive for the second time, carsick from the notoriously twisty drive through the mountains from Chiang Mai (762 turns, apparently). In town, there’s a jazz festival underway. Thunderstorms, over as quickly as they start, light up rice paddies in brilliant green. At night, people dance barefoot in the streets to soul, rock, and R&B as bars quickly fill with eager audiences. This is the kind of creative magic I came back for, and it carries me through the following weeks.

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Open mics and jam sessions are abundant. I sing so much. I join impromptu bands in bars. One day, I spent the afternoon holding a mic to a didgeridoo while a man determinedly and sincerely rapped out a vigorous beat. Some mornings, I bike to a yoga studio and learn to play the handpan, paying close attention to its soothing, mellow sound.

After every night out, at 3am, a friend waits at our hostel, guitar in hand. And from there, we jam for hours. It’s a late-night repertoire of Adele, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and James Brown – you name it, we’ve got it nailed down. One evening, someone lights a bonfire next to the water-filled rice paddy. As we sing next to it, three cows, like giant puppies, wander over. They stand completely still, watching and listening. It is our Disney princess moment.

Pai is like a playground for adults. It’s a place where you’re encouraged to try new things and nobody’s afraid to be a beginner.

Dancing with fire is a big deal in Pai. “Do you spin?” is a question you hear often (“No,” I get used to responding). One evening I am invited to a ‘fire burning ceremony’, so I hitch a lift on the back of a friend’s motorbike, through the rainy countryside, to an abandoned house where a circle of candles sparkles into pitch-black. After some meditation, we each choose a prop, douse it in oil, and set it alight. There’s something magnetic and empowering about the hiss and swirl of the flame as you twist it around with your palms.

In the coming weeks, I will try my hand at breathwork (which apparently can activate your natural DMT, but I didn’t get this far), boxing (run by a fiery Australian with a huge heart), and ecstatic dance (the first time I went, people were mooing and barking on the floor, which was a bit of a shock to the system, but I got used to it). 

There are also plenty of chances to become a better version of yourself. Do you want to get fit? There’s no excuse to put it off in Pai, with acrobatic classes, daily yoga, and the chance to fight with a tight rotation of Muay Thai (Thai boxing) classes. Relationship workshops, ice baths, sound healing circles, and psychedelic therapy sessions mean you can work through whatever’s on your mind in a way that suits you.

But you can also let loose. As it gets dark, the vibe shifts in Pai’s spiderweb of alleys. Through the doors of fairy-light venues, you’re bound to find bands playing anything from Thai folk to rock & roll on any given night, as the walking street lines with motorbikes and people selling mango or fried meat. It’s never that hard to find a rave, either. Paradise Bar is renowned for its iconic psytrance events. With many a raver partial to the ‘happy shakes’ sold at the bar, the parties don’t stop until after sunrise. 

And you can do it all surrounded by mountains, hot springs, and waterfalls, so what’s not to love?

Pai boasts some of the best food and drinks you’ll ever try. I swear I could have eaten somewhere new every day and would’ve been in for a treat every time. For Thai food, head to Charlie & Lek (try their pineapple chicken fried rice or banana leaf salad). For Myanmar cuisine, there’s Two Sisters (fresh and delicious. I love their mixed fruit smoothies, and Khao Som Nuat, a crispy tofu salad with tomatoes, onion, cabbage and, roasted garlic, tomato rice), and Om Garden or Lalamal for cafes. The latter is run by a mother and daughter duo serving homemade brownies against a stunning landscape view. I spent many mornings there with my laptop, watching the clouds that hung on the mountains like freshly washed sheets. And then, I spent many evenings in the after-hours teashops, which serve chai, cacao, and coffee from huge stone vats.

The night market, which opens every day at 4 p.m., also boasts some standout cuisine. Highlights include colossal chocolate and banana muffins sold from a street corner and all the northern Thai classics (BBQ sausages, Khao Soi). One van, plastered with stickers, stands out: the chef serves Thai street food with a single earring, a ready grin, and a graceful hand that tosses spring onions, noodles, and morning glory into a flaming silver wok.

You’re guaranteed to run into everyone you know at the night market. And this is the best part of Pai: the people you meet. If you don’t see them here, you’ll see them at the Saturday morning market admiring homemade jewelry, kicking back in a hammock at the Jazz House, or settling in for an evening of wizardry at Paradise Bar’s bi-weekly circus shows.

Walking down the high street one day, I pass a sign that says, ‘PAI IS FALLING IN LOVE’. I certainly fell in love with the town and its people. You’ll come for a few days, but be warned: you’ll never want to leave. The ‘Pai hole’ is a trap, but it’s the best trap I’ve ever fallen into.

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