“I bought this boat to explore the river’s hidden places,” said Jern, a Bangkok interior designer whose full name is Irinrat Prasongchaikul, as we chugged in her vintage cruiser across the terra-cotta-colored waters of the Chao Phraya River, or River of Kings. She had invited me to join her and a half-dozen local friends for a sunset spin on her romantic vessel, which was built in 1957 but whose polished-wood deck shaded by a canopy felt like a throwback to the colonial-era seafaring days of Joseph Conrad.
The boatman soon steered us past the majestic Wat Arun (Temple of Dawn) to Thonburi, the less-frequented western side of the waterway, then navigated into a dreamy klong, or canal. “I grew up in Bangkok knowing that the Chao Phraya was important,” Jern added, popping open an iced bottle of Champagne. “But there’s so much that has been forgotten.”
Jern soon introduced us to her personal take on traditional klong life.
We hopped ashore to her favorite temple, the rarely visited Wat Ratchaorasaram. The compound had just closed for the day, but she asked the abbot if we might be allowed to sneak in for a look; in the inner sanctum an orange-robed monk paused his vacuuming so we could admire how every inch of the ceiling and walls was covered with ancient imagery of Buddhist gods and miracles. Then, as darkness fell, we docked at the rickety pier of a family-run eatery for squid in black sauce, spicy hot-and-sour tom yum soup, and giant river prawns.
As the final coup de théâtre, we chugged
As the final coup de théâtre, we chugged along the now silent canals to the floodlit Phra Buddha Dhammakaya Thepmongkhon (a.k.a. the Big Buddha), a 226-foot-tall golden image of the seated spiritual leader. There Jern gave us each a bowl containing a lit candle. We made a secret wish, placed our bowl in the still, moonlit water, and watched mesmerized as they all floated like fireflies into the inky darkness.
Water in every form is revered in Thailand, Jern explained, and the Chao Phraya has special status. “As a Thai,” she said, “I was always taught to respect the water goddess, Phra Mae Khongkha, who is associated with purification and fertility. We are taught that we can live without electricity, but water is our first renated by the revival of the Chao Phraya, which was the true heart of the city for centuries
In a capital ceremonially named Krung Thep—the City of Angels—the golden-roofed temples of the royal district of the Kingdom of Siam rose up along its banks in the 18th century, and although Thailand is one of the few Asian countries never to have been colonized, it was here that European powers built their legations, warehouses, and hotels in the 1800s. Its vibrant shores declined in the 1950s as the center of the city gradually expanded east, creating the teeming, futuristic metropolis that travelers most often visualize today, where some 11 million people live amid glass skyscrapers, shopping malls, and neon lights.
In recent years tastes began changing; locals
But in recent years tastes began changing; locals and visitors alike were drawn back to the serene atmosphere of the riverfront, with its open spaces, gilded temples, and potent sense of place. Bangkok’s preservationists realized that the river could once again become the soul of the city, and creative hoteliers and restaurateurs began filtering back. I was inspired for a return visit this year after chatting with my plugged-in friend Daniel Fraser, a Canadian who moved to Bangkok in the 1990s as a tutor for the royal family, became a local TV and film star, and started a tour company called Smiling Albino.
“I remember when the river districts felt abandoned,” he said. “Now we’re experiencing a resurgence of Chao Phraya’s golden age.” Neighborhoods have sprung back to life thanks to new ferry services; long-derelict edifices are being renovated, including the 1888 Custom House, which is opening this year as a hotel, The Langham; and there are plans for a pedestrian bridge. “It’s transitioning from a forgotten historical zone,” he said, “to an active part of the city.”
No sooner had I emerged from the airport after my epic flight from New York than I realized the city’s traffic had only become more nefarious, and it took an hour for my driver to nudge his way through the gridlock.
But the moment I glimpsed the Chao Phraya, the urban chaos dissolved. There are many luxury hotels along the river, and after a few days of hopping around, I settled at the Mandarin Oriental, Bangkok, which is celebrating its 150th anniversary this year. Since opening its doors in 1876, literary lions including Somerset Maugham, Noël Coward, and Graham Greene have helped create the hotel’s seductive reputation, which was recently burnished by cameos in the third season of The White Lotus.
My view of the river
My view of the river was from the heavens, thanks to floor-to-ceiling windows in my duplex suite at the top of the newly renovated Garden Wing. After watching the busy water traffic from this godlike aerie, I descended to the original antique hotel building. Beneath clouds of freshly cut white flowers, I sipped milky Darjeeling brew and nibbled on scones before entering the Authors’ Lounge to inspect a gallery of portraits depicting the hotel’s long parade of resident writers.
It was the ideal preparation for exploring the Old Town. From a nearby dock I boarded a cheerfully crowded ferry to Talat Noi (Small Market), the atmospheric waterfront district that was the commercial hub of 19th-century Bangkok. Its back alleys are still pedestrian-only (although the odd motorbike roars past) and maintain their charm. I wandered from packed fish markets to hole-in-the-wall vendors selling pad thai, duck noodle soup, and stewed pork leg jelly.
Then, after dodging used-car-parts salesmen (a long-term neighborhood specialty), I stumbled onto elegantly repurposed relics, such as the General Post Office from 1940, which was converted into the Thailand Creative & Design Center, and World War II–era storehouses turned into Warehouse 30, which is filled with chic furniture and fashion boutiques. Other historic sites standing sentinel still serve their original purpose, like the splendidly renovated Siam Commercial Bank, established in 1906, and the Holy Rosary Church, completed in 1897, whose Gothic spire looms above the labyrinth.
More appealing to me were the smaller bursts
But more appealing to me were the smaller bursts of creativity. Many new outposts have been set up by younger Thais, including a playful café-gallery called Timo and Tintin, which is near a pier and is named after the owner’s two dogs. “This was my grandmother’s shophouse,” said the 30-something designer with a head of bleached hair who goes by the name Pelagan (“My nickname is O,” he said mysteriously) and also sells art photographs, decals, and dog collars.
“I used to visit every week as a boy.” Later I basically had to climb over a pile of rusty auto chassis outside a workshop to visit Naam 1608, a restaurant in a creaking wood structure perched over the river. On a bar stool facing directly onto the water, I nursed my Singha beer with a plate of red curry fish cakes. I almost could have high-fived the passing long-tail-boat drivers.
An even more extreme mix of old and new has blossomed in neighboring Chinatown. To dive into the action, I moved to the nearby Thai-owned Sala Rattanakosin, a boutique hotel directly across the river from the Wat Arun; just to get to the entrance, I followed a pedestrian path, having to skirt tattooed warehouse workers stripped to the waist and shouldering enormous sacks of rice.
A view of the magnificent temple structure filled
A view of the magnificent temple structure filled the picture windows in my room, and I could admire its shifting moods from the waterfront breakfast table in the morning and at dusk from the rooftop bar. To explore the new Chinatown, I wound my way through dark waterfront back alleys to locate a discreet sign hanging outside a 115-year-old herbal medicine store, the secretive setting for Potong, a Michelin-starred Thai Chinese restaurant that has reshaped Bangkok’s dining scene since it opened in 2021.
It was founded by 37-year-old Chef Pam—the nickname of Pichaya Soontornyanakij—and was a driving force in reviving the once moribund district. “We were accidental pioneers,” Pam told me when I met her with her husband and business partner, Tor, at Opium Bar, a gorgeous homage to Old Bangkok where cocktails using ingredients like Thai sticky rice liquor are paired with shrimp toast.
The building had been owned by her family for five generations, she said: “When my grandfather and father first brought us to see the old shop in 2018, it was filled with commercial tenants selling various items wholesale. The neighborhood was all shoe vendors, cooking supplies, noodle stalls. There wasn’t even a coffee shop. Friends thought we were crazy setting up here.” Tor added: “We were honestly scared.
We weren’t sure people were going to come
We weren’t sure people were going to come here. Now there are over a hundred restaurants around us in the Chinatown waterfront.”
In 2025 the couple opened a more casual spot, Khao San Sek (whose name references both transformation and culinary respect), about a block from the river, near the entrance to the then quiet commercial road running parallel to the Chao Phraya called Soi Song Wat.
My boat-owning friend Jern, who has been the interior designer on some of Pam’s projects, recalled going to a taciturn Chinese noodle street hawker there for lunch every day during construction: “Finally she just looked at me and blurted out, ‘What are you doing here? Nobody ever comes down here!’ ” But in the last few years, the river-adjacent blocks of Song Wat Road have exploded with activity and are now lined with hip fashion boutiques, coffee shops, and perfumeries, attracting so much foot traffic that the sidewalks recently needed to be widened.
Even so, I could slip down side alleys to find old-school dumpling vendors and antiques stores right by the river, then revive my energy levels with Bangkok’s most delicious mango sticky rice at the still-earthy local favorite Wanjai Cafe House. The riverside districts I had explored so far were overgrown with tropical foliage—vines hung low from knotted trees, flowers sprouted from cracks—but after a week I longed for more verdant open spaces.
It was difficult to imagine that there
It was difficult to imagine that there were wilderness areas in the megalopolis, but Jern had assured me that true nature trips were possible. The Chao Phraya was once coiled as tightly as a snake, and in the 16th century, on the orders of Thai kings, several canals were cut to shorten its course for navigation, creating artificial islands that remained far removed from the city’s explosive expansion.
First, I headed south to Bang Kachao, dubbed the green lung of the capital. From a ramshackle wharf by the industrial port, a boatman took me five minutes across the river, where I rented a bicycle from a half-asleep gent, then pedaled to the Sri Nakhon Khuean Khan Park, a shaded forest expanse where kingfishers dart across ponds. But I realized that my second trip would be more of an adventure when Greg Jorgensen from Smiling Albino suggested we cycle the full 13 miles along the Chao Phraya from downtown north to the island Ko Kret.
“I first found this route 18 years ago and have been refining it ever since,” he said as we zigzagged along trails cobbled from rickety wood planks that threatened to pitch us over the sides into flooded agricultural fields. Finally, another tiny ferry took us across to Ko Kret, which is entirely car-free and surely offers some of world’s most picturesque bike paths through shady, flower-filled groves and along laneways lined by gilded crane statues.
As we collapsed at a shady riverside shack
As we collapsed at a shady riverside shack to sip chilled chrysanthemum lager, Jorgensen declared that he was optimistic for the Chao Phraya’s future: “People are coming up with more and more creative ways to enjoy the river,” he said. “It’s part of Bangkok’s life now.”
To bid farewell to the city, I made the pilgrimage for my last sunset to the rooftop of the Lebua at State Tower hotel, whose aptly named Sky Bar and Sirocco restaurant on the 64th floor are among the world’s highest outdoor venues.
The visit was a mix of glamour and Bangkok humor. Sidestepping the well-dressed crowds taking selfies in locations from The Hangover Part II—a film that isn’t at the top of the American cinematic canon but is beloved in Asia—I ordered a Hangovertini, a mix of Dewar’s, Martini Rosso, apple juice, and rosemary-infused honey, and repaired to the high-altitude precipice. I could see, far below, the shining Chao Phraya whiplashing through the forest of skyscrapers stretching to the horizon in every direction.
Where to stay
The story of travel in Bangkok is encapsulated in the Mandarin Oriental, Bangkok. It opened its doors in 1876, and its iconic status has not flagged. Today the stately colonial-style original structure offers decadent afternoon teas, while the modern Garden Wing towering behind it reopened in late 2025 after a complete refurbishment. Travelers’ growing interest in the historic riverside neighborhoods has brought an array of new lodgings.
The elegantly minimal Capella Bangkok is a retreat
The elegantly minimal Capella Bangkok is a retreat of near-monastic serenity, making it the perfect place for a jet lag cure. The garden villas are so close to the water that guests might fish from their daybeds before jumping into their plunge pools. For a total immersion into Old Bangkok, the Thai-owned Sala Rattanakosin is near the heart of the Chinatown waterfront. Some of its rooms have picture windows directly facing one of the city’s most famous landmarks, the Wat Arun.
For a quirkier experience, The Siam is a one-of-a-kind hotel created by Thai rock star and actor Krissada Sukosol Clapp and his family. The Siam’s creatively designed lobby and public spaces are rich with Thai antiques, tropical plants, and eccentric homages to Bangkok’s colorful history, including its golden age as a jazz center. Where to eat and drink
The gastronomic scene on the riverside was transformed in 2021 with the opening of Potong, a fine-dining restaurant hidden within a century-old former herbal medicine store on an atmospheric Chinatown back alley.
Chef Pichaya Soontornyanakij (known as Chef Pam) has won a Michelin star and was recognized as The World’s Best Female Chef in 2025. Snagging a reservation at Potong, which reopened after a rapid makeover in June, is now famously difficult; it’s easier to score a seat at the trippy Opium Bar, one of the most sensually decorated and inventive cocktail lounges in the city, on the fourth and fifth floors.
Chef Pam’s newest, more casual (and affordable) restaurant,
Chef Pam’s newest, more casual (and affordable) restaurant, Khao San Sek (the name refers to both transformation and culinary respect) is at the gateway to Soi Song Wat (Song Wat Road). Since its 2025 opening, it has helped elevate the stretch into one of the hippest few blocks in Bangkok. For the most organic blend of ancient and modern Bangkok, explore the nearby waterfront district Talat Noi (Small Market), where alleys lead to passageways that are often only shoulder width.
One of the most romantic venues is Naam 1608, set in a traditional wood house on the river where patrons sitting along the bar can almost touch their toes in the water. To jump between centuries, drop by the Duck Noodle House on Soi Wanit for a $2 bowl of delicious broth, then head for a state-of-the-art latte at the café-gallery Timo and Tintin, opened by a young Thai designer in his grandmother’s house, and dessert at Hong Sieng Kong, a café in a renovated 150-year-old brick warehouse with refreshingly breezy tables by the water.
A charming cluster of bars and restaurants has sprung up around a tiny Chinatown alleyway, Soi Nana. The restaurant in a former massage parlor, now The Mustang Blu hotel—with a distressed interior cupola worthy of Florence, animal skeletons, and a stuffed giraffe—is a surreal homage to the area’s history. The new bars include G.O.D. (Genius on Drugs), an immersive cocktail lounge where you should order the bizarre Uni x Gin Martini.
From 8 p.m. nightly, Tep Bar hosts live
From 8 p.m. nightly, Tep Bar hosts live music played by talented young musicians using traditional instruments; belly up to the bar to nibble roasted silkworms with your Singha beer. Finally, another great river-adjacent locale is the area around the Giant Swing, what was once a towering wood swing used in royal rituals. The sixth-floor rooftop Swing Bar has local craft beers and stunning views of the plaza and the floodlit temple Wat Suthat Thepwararam Ratchaworamahawihan; afterward swing by the Din Restaurant and Jazz Bar in a lovingly restored colonial-era town house.
What to do
Thonburi, the canal-riddled western side of the Chao Phraya, is well worth exploring on a day trip. Using a shallow-bottomed and brightly colored long-tail boat, visit Artist House, a community hub with a café, art gallery, and gift shop selling local handicrafts. Nearby, the 20-story-high “Big Buddha” (officially Phra Buddha Dhammakaya Thepmongkhon) looms over the canals and the temple Wat Paknam Phasi Charoen but can most relaxingly be seen from the Hidden Bangkok Bistro.
Save your appetite for the idyllic Natura Cafe in the lush Poomjai Garden, whose dreamy ambience feels a million miles from the traffic-clogged avenues of central Bangkok. Boat tours around Thonburi can most easily be arranged by Condé Nast Traveler specialist Smiling Albino. Private customized day trips start at $250 per person based on a minimum of two people. Unexpected art
In 2025 contemporary art museum Dib Bangkok opened its doors behind Bangkok’s industrial port.
It has high-level exhibitions from international and Thai
It has high-level exhibitions from international and Thai artists. Bangkok Kunsthalle, in Chinatown, opened in 2024 in a former academic publishing house that was ravaged by a fire 25 years ago; the mazelike interior, some of it still charred, is a surprisingly compelling stage for art. To round out an art tour, head to the Jim Thompson House Museum. The former home of the American-born “silk king” Jim Thompson, who set up a fashion house in 1950 and disappeared mysteriously in 1967 (conspiracy theories abound), is an amalgam of several transported antique houses filled with one of the world’s great private collections of traditional Thai art.
Next door, the architecturally striking Jim Thompson Art Center has an art gallery, library, and store selling fine art books and accessories by cutting-edge young designers. This article appeared in the November 2026 issue of Condé Nast Traveler. Subscribe to the magazine here.
Source: www.cntraveler.com
