Review: Four Seasons Chiang Mai

Head to Northern Thailand, where the Four Seasons has redefined itself on a working organic rice farm where guests bathe water buffalo, plant rice and eat exceptionally well.

The dense rolling hills of the Mae Rim Valley provide Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai with a dramatic backdrop. The property opened in 1995 and was reflagged for the luxury brand in 2003. Yet, despite its obvious age, I get the impression that accommodation this well-planned and immersive cannot age.

Dated some parts may look, leaning into its natural splendour has worked brilliantly for the long-standing brand, which has enjoyed a resurgence in popularity thanks to speculation that the third season of the HBO series The White Lotus will be filmed there.

The concept has a lot to do with this property’s success, sketching luxury into the uncommon category of agricultural tourism where guests can both relax and get their hands dirty on a working organic farm.

First impressions

First impressions are important for any hotel. I love a good sky lobby, for example. The one at the InterContinental in Downtown Los Angeles has its reception on the 70th floor so you’re checking in almost eye-level with helicopters; I still talk about it years after I first stayed.

Yet, there’s nothing urban life could offer that’d compete with walking into the open-air reception pavilion of Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai.

a couple relaxing in the open-air pavilion of Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai — Four Seasons Chiang Mai lets you escape urban life. (Image: Four Seasons)

I usually rush through check-in because I’m too excited to see the room. Here, I take my time, admiring the spectacular view of the sense Doi Suthep Mountain range set against vivid greenery and teak pavilions. The colours are so strong and sharp that I feel like I’m living inside a postcard. I scan the rice paddies below and spot two water buffalo – one brown and one, oddly enough, piglet pink – tending to the fields.

This property couldn’t be recreated in many other places around the world. Yet, that kind of one-of-one luxury can’t rely on location alone.

pink water buffalo in a thatched hut at Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai — Hang out with a pink water buffalo. (Image: Chris Singh)

The room

Four Seasons Chiang Mai is popular with bigger groups and special occasions (like weddings). There are 64 pavilions clustered around the central pond and rice paddies, but the bigger buildings scattered around the 13-hectare property host 22 private residences and 12 (very private) pool villas. If you want seclusion, you’ll find it. Conversely, if you want to feel a connection to the land and the exceedingly helpful staff, that’s just as easy.

guests relaxing in a private pool villa at Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai — Stay in a pool villa. (Image: Four Seasons)

Much like the rest of the resort, the accommodation is designed in the Lanna style characteristic of old-world Thai architecture. My Upper Rice Terrace Pavilion is 70 square metres of incredibly distinctive localised luxury.

two people meditating by the pool at Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai — Find your zen in this luxe oasis. (Image: Four Seasons)

Inside is an abundance of teak and gilded motifs – typical of traditional Thai design. Fine silk has been used extensively for a premium look. I can immediately tell the room hasn’t been updated in quite some time. But dated as it may be, it’s also polished with a timeless look. The bathroom, however, could use a refurbishment.

Pavilions are stacked on top of each other, and the upper rooms are more desirable because each pavilion comes with an outdoor bridge leading to your very own sala. That is, an open-air pavilion and private lounge with a swing chair looking over the rice paddies.

The upper ones naturally offer better views; on one side, I could admire the rice paddies which look lush and beautiful in the sunset, especially when a small infinity pool peers over them. Turning my head to the left would give me a glimpse of the four water buffalo in their stables.

an aerial view of the surrounding rice paddies at Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai — Be surrounded by lush green rice paddies. (Image: Four Seasons)

There aren’t many luxury resorts where you can plant rice, shape pottery and bathe water buffalo all on the same day. Guests rotate through these activities, and watching them hard at work while relaxing in your private sala is a great way to understand just how much thought Four Seasons has put into this immersive pastoral-luxe experience.

the lush greenery and rice paddies at Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai — Be surrounded by vibrant rice paddies. (Image: Chris Singh)

Food and drink

Just shortly after I arrive at the resort, I make my way to the more traditional of the resort’s three restaurants, Khao.

The space benefits from the ornate whimsy of Thai design and full-size windows looking out to the rice paddies and the mountains in the distance. It reminds me of some of the more high-end restaurants I’ve been to in Bangkok, although the food and drink are dedicated to Northern Thai.

Regionality is always such a big thing in Thailand, so I’m not surprised when I finish a bowl of creamy, caramelised khao soi and excitedly tell the chef that it’s the best I’ve ever had. And khao soi is pretty much all I eat whenever I’m in Thailand.

The food at North, the resort’s more worldly open-air terrace restaurant, is more than just serviceable but the standard Western options have me craving a visit to Khao again. I’m more impressed by the Bill Bensley design which connects North to the pool area and a nice spread of lounges.

A third restaurant, Rim Tai Kitchen, is the most interesting. Again, the famous Bill Bensley took the reigns for this space with an abundance of teak and several distinctive cooking stations. This is where guests can take a comprehensive Northern Thai cooking class across multiple courses. I’m told aside from bathing water buffalo, it’s the most popular add-on activity at Four Seasons Chiang Mai.

a look inside Kao restaurant at Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai — The resort has three restaurants to dine at. (Image: Chris Singh)

Amenities and facilities

Aside from a small library and an indoor gym offering Muay Thai lessons to guests, almost every facility across Four Seasons Chiang Mai is designed to pull in the natural landscape. This is most true of the massive Wara Cheewa Spa which has seven treatment rooms set in a massive temple-esque building covered with mythical serpents.

The outdoor treatment rooms are probably more ideal during the day but my visit is at 9pm. Once the sun goes down, the land loses all of its visual appeal. Guests should look into the comprehensive wellness packages which include yoga and guided meditation.

a woman having a spa treatment at Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai — Pamper yourself at the spa. (Image: Four Seasons)

A spa is a given. And while it is an exceptional spa, the resort’s most interesting offering is the Chaan Baan. This is where most of the activities are offered, designed like a Thai farmer’s quarters (there’s even a traditional kiln) with staff teaching guests the art of pottery and tie-dying. This is also where you’ll find the buffalo stables so you’ll often find guests waiting to hose these majestic beasts down.

Behind the reception is also a hidden collection of shops selling fine Thai silk and other goods, although anyone who has blown their budget on the accommodation might want to go into town for the epic night markets instead.

a water buffalo eating grass — See water buffalo up close. (Image: Chris Singh)

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Getting there

Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai is buried in the heart of the Mae Rim Valley so feels secluded and appropriately regional. Yet it’s only a 30-minute drive out of the city. This also means it’s very close to Chiang Mai International Airport so convenience is without question.

the scenic landscape at Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai — Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai has a secluded feel. (Image: Chris Singh)

The verdict

The resort could have easily gotten by on its spectacular concept and setting, but the small details like exceptional food, service and getting guests involved in the work (should they want to) help make Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai what it is. Having that agricultural element is a different type of wellness, offering more of a connection to the location that goes beyond massages and design stories. Plus, you get to pet a bright pink buffalo.

Location: 9/10

Its Mae Rim Valley location makes Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai an unforgettable scene.

Style/character: 9/10

Renowned architect Bill Bensley is prolific for the Lanna style of architecture; here he gently works it into the natural setting without overwhelming the region’s beauty.

Service: 8/10

Helpful, attentive and gentle. Great service is expected in Thailand and Four Seasons has assembled a team of seasoned professionals.

Food and drink: 9/10

Some of the best Northern Thai food I’ve ever tasted as well as a fun cooking class means Four Seasons Chiang Mai is as delicious as it is beautiful.

Value for money: 8/10

A night at the resort will set you back around $939 per night. Many of the resort’s activities are add-ons and it will be impossible to resist temptation so do factor that into the cost.

a local farmer showing guests their rice growing practices at Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai — Try your hand at crafting at Four Seasons Resort Chiang Mai. (Image: Four Seasons)

After youth-led protests in 2025, this year Nepal elected a 35-year-old former rapper as Prime Minister. In a country where tourism is its biggest industry, what’s next for travellers?

In 1986, Nepal changed its clock. It had used India Standard Time since 1920 so, to differentiate, it wound its clock 15 minutes ahead of, not behind, its big-brother neighbour. Boss move. “Nepal is strongly opposed to the idea that our identity is connected to India,” says Community Homestay Network (CHN) guide Bikal Khanal.

Tharu dance is traditionally set to hand drums. (Credit: Kate Lewis)

Today, Nepal is the only independent country with a 45-minute deviation to universal time; an oddity that’s become a symbol of national pride. The quirk is nearly as endearing as Kathmandu’s Tribhuvan airport where carved varnished wood and shiny red bricks rule. One sign points to a ‘Travelator’ and another to a ‘Grievance Handling Desk’ while visas are noisily stamped at customs for US dollars, cash only. When am I?

Spot the endemic Nepal gray langur. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

The 15 or 45 minute anomaly sees me tap out completely on timezone calculations. Why bend my brain calculating if it’s quarter to or quarter past elsewhere when I’m in the honking here and now of Kathmandu where the air is high-altitude crisp, the prayer flags flutter and the street dogs howl?

How tourism is changing in Nepal

Bardiya National Park is rich with wildlife. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

India is not the only association many Nepalis would like to shake. With eight of the world’s 10 tallest mountains, including Mount Everest and Annapurna, Nepal has long attracted mountaineers and trekkers, and expedition numbers are continuing to rise.

Tourism is one of the country’s biggest sources of foreign currency, so this growth is not negative, per se. But according to Ang Tshering Lama, who co-founded Phaplu Mountain Bike Club, being reduced to a mere trekking destination is limiting.

“Trekking is just one layer of our identity,” says Ang. “When it becomes the dominant narrative, it limits how we’re seen and how we see ourselves.” Nepal’s recent success, however, in diverting trekkers to less-trafficked areas such as Manaslu mofuntain, where visitor numbers rose by 117 per cent last year, offers hope that tourism can diversify even more radically.

Local men in Bhada village. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

The founder of CHN, Shiva Dhakal, wants that change. “The whole idea of the Community Homestay Network is to promote experiences outside of trekking,” he says. “Community tourism changes lives and helps kids stay home instead of coming to the city or migrating to the Middle East.”

Ang grew up seeing people leave, “not because they wanted to but because there weren’t enough opportunities to stay”, he states. Yet from remote villages to living traditions; food, art, music and emerging subcultures, “there’s so much that’s not being seen.”

CHN is opening some of those doors. It doesn’t own, or fund, any homes. Rather, it promotes homestays to travellers on a single, slick platform, while fostering entrepreneurship in places where women, marginalised castes, Indigenous people and the youth stand to benefit the most.

A new generation demanding more

Dalla Town Hall, where volunteers discuss anti-poaching tactics. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

The future prospects of next-gen Nepalis can no longer be ignored. On a Kathmandu tour with 33-year-old guide Monica K.C, we pass buildings torched in the September 2025 ‘Gen Z protests’, including the Supreme Court and Parliament House. Seventy-two people died. “They were anti-corruption protests,” says Monica. “Politicians’ children are living a lavish life but the airports are crowded with youngsters leaving to find work.”

We stop in ‘little Tibet’ at the wondrous sixth-century Boudha Stupa. “The wheel of life is Buddhism in a nutshell,” says Monica. “Things such as hate, ignorance and anger keep you rotating around the wheel, so you must follow the principles of Buddhism to detach. If you can’t, there’s no nirvana for you.”

Boudha Stupa's prayer wheels — Boudha Stupa’s prayer wheels are used to recite Buddhist prayers. (Credit: Kate Lewis)

In a sun-drenched twist to the usual temple visit, we ascend the stupa’s sloping plinth and roam its whitewashed dome. Tendrils of diaphanous prayer flags stream from a steeple-like structure where the Buddha’s unblinking eyes stare out. No nirvana for you…

bouda stupa prayer flags — Tibetan-style prayer flags embellish the whitewashed dome of Bouda Stupa, a Buddhist temple. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

The dome is delightfully free of guard rails or chiding from security. There is, however, a stern ‘No TikTok’ sign, perhaps in response to the youth’s newly flexed power. The booted-out Prime Minister, K.P. Sharma Oli, was replaced in a resounding election victory in March by 35-year-old Balendra Shah of the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) – a former rapper and mayor of Kathmandu. The RSP’s manifesto indicates tourism is a priority, and that Nepal’s cultural identity in areas such as gastronomy will be strengthened.

Boudha Stupa vendors — Vibrant souvenir shops and cafes around Boudha Stupa. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

A more confronting stop awaits at Pashupatinath Temple. Today is Bala Chaturdashi, a Hindu festival where thousands of devotees gather to honour their dead ancestors. Vendors hauling foam mattresses do a lucrative trade as people set up for a night of vigil. This includes burning the bodies of recently deceased relatives on bamboo pyres in the Bagmati River, which flows into the sacred Ganges.

A woman at annual Hindu festival Bala Chaturdashi, in Kathmandu. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

Wrapped in a shroud, the bodies are positioned with their heads facing north to the Himalayas where Lord Shiva resides. They’re covered with flowers and straw and set alight by male family members.

Hours later, the ashes are swept into the river where devotees will take a holy dip the next day. As much as Monica assures us it’s not voyeuristic to watch, I struggle to do so. “Here you see the reality of life because everyone ends up there,” she says, gesturing to the river.

Life unfiltered in the Terai region

tharu woman — Tharu woman and master weaver Parbati Chaudhary in Bhada Village. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

The reality of life needs processing time, which the western Terai region delivers in spades. The Terai is largely separated from India by the Karnali River and Bardiya National Park, where elephants, rhinos and the elusive Bengal tiger roam.

Once a nomadic tribe, the Indigenous Tharu people are now the largest ethnic group here. “They didn’t know their daily life was interesting for international travellers but they’re starting to understand now,” says CHN founder Shiva.

Take a Jeep safari through Bardiya National Park. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

We fly Buddha Air to Dhangadhi airport and drive five hours to stay in Tharu homes. The journey to Bhada village is a blur of roadside fruit stalls, traffic-stopping sacred cows and fields sown with wheat, rice, mustard, spinach, cauliflower and potatoes. Nepal’s agriculture feeds only Nepal.

Marigolds are an important part of Hindu rituals. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

“The only thing we export is young people,” says our guide Bikal. As the light dims and we plunge evermore rural, mysterious mounds of compacted hay – some house-sized – loom like the creatures from Where The Wild Things Are. Even our trusty driver gets flummoxed by a dirt road that abruptly ends and we find ourselves hurtling across a paddock.

On arrival, some are ferried to mud-walled cottages greened by gourd creepers, with thatched roofs and rustic-chic mosquito nets. Myself and two others are ushered to the home of corner store owner, mechanic and mushroom farmer Man Kumar Chilaruwa and his wife Rajkumari.

community homestay entrance — A warm welcome at a community homestay. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

They escort us to a bunker-esque back building with steel doors and a folding security gate, behind which is gleaming linoleum, dolphin-printed tiles and a shower cavity that must be gingerly stepped through to reach the toilet.

The ceiling lights emit a rainbow of colours (the bathroom light gets stuck in, frankly, a quite frightening red). We’re nevertheless touched that our hosts invested in all this bling when the average salary is around $275 a month.

In the coming days, we participate in Tharu traditions such as making moonshine, dancing, weaving straw handicrafts and gold-panning. We’re fed well with staples of rice, mustard greens, lentil pancakes, daal, curried chicken and tomato chutney served on antibacterial saal leaves.

food at community homestay — Dig in. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

Sonara community homestay president Indradevi Tharu tells us river snails are often served, and the boiled and pickled flesh of rats hunted in the rice fields. “Perhaps next time?” we say and all have a laugh.

The power of community homestays

community homestay owners in Nepal — Barda community homestay owners Parbati Chaudhary and Ram Krishni Devi Chaudhary. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

Immersing Western visitors in foreign cultural practices is not new. But with the Tharu, I never get that uneasy sensation that I’m being performed for. Despite being the only tourists, there’s no ‘othering’; just warm, composed and ultra-dignified welcomes. Like we’ve always been here.

“I love to have travellers in my village so I can see the world,” says local woman Parbati Chaudhary. “Why would I travel the world when the world comes to me?”

The graceful acceptance the Tharu offer, as well as the slow pace, works miracles on my frazzled nervous system. One day I even take a nap on a vacant homestay bed.

Sonara community room — An authentic stay in the Sonara community. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

Roosters strut and goats bray as we sit on the ground in al fresco kitchens, rolling rice flour into cylinders steamed to make dhikri (dumplings). When water is needed, we fetch it using a hand-operated pump as a family of ducks strolls by, side-eying us like curious neighbours.

Animal lovers will delight in Tharu villages. Kind and resourceful inventions are everywhere, such as snacking stations where two posts lean together, with leafy boughs dangling on rope for baby goats to forage from.

CHN’s CEO, Aayusha Prasain, nods knowingly when one in our group says she cried when she left her host, Shayam Chaudhary, in Bhada. Shayam’s 17-year-old son, Prashant, had translated, which deepened the connection.

“Community tourism turns travel into a relationship, not a transaction,” says Aayusha. “It places decision-making power in the hands of local communities, especially women and youth.” Since 2018, CHN has hosted more than 4000 travellers from 52 countries in 408 households, and estimates women’s participation has increased by 381 per cent.

In the Bardiya community, where vexing human-animal conflict has been a balancing act for decades due to elephants raiding crops, long-time homestay operator Salik Ram Chaudhary says young people keep the older ones on their toes.

“We can’t keep homestays stagnant,” he says. “We have to upgrade our service and redefine our product or young people won’t see it as an attractive business. If we can keep evolving with this travelling trend we’re confident the youths will stay and continue it.”

Back in Kathmandu, Monica explains that after the deaths of young protestors in September, a determination had spread to not let their sacrifice be in vain. “We want to keep holding the government accountable,” she says. “We don’t know what situation we’re facing, but we’re ready to face it.”

Interested in Nepal but prefer to experience it in total comfort? Read our guide to luxury travel in Nepal.

Head to Northern Thailand, where the Four Seasons has redefined itself on a working organic rice farm where guests bathe water buffalo, plant rice and eat exceptionally well.

First impressions

The room

Food and drink

Amenities and facilities

Getting there

The verdict

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What it’s like to stay at the Bangkok hotel rumoured to be the next ‘White Lotus’

Keeping culture alive at a Northern Thailand farm stay

Centara: Thailand’s answer to every holiday style

These community homestays are changing how travellers experience Nepal