In February 2002, I wrote a piece titled Frustrated Women, interviewing three of my friends who felt that Chiang Mai was not the place to find love and who bemoaned the fact that they had to go home if they wanted to get married and have children.

DoiSuthep is such an integral part of life in Chiang Mai: we listened as children, wide-eyed, to the story of pregnant Nang Bua Ban whose unrequited love led her to jump to her death at Wang Bua Ban Waterfalls during the second world war; we enjoyed afternoon picnics sliding down rocks into Montatarn’s crystal pools as adolescents; we naughtily snuck up to lie on the road and watch the stars with our sweethearts as teenagers; we scattered our loved one’s ashes deep into the jungle, at peace that one day our own body-dust will also mingle with the mountain’s earth; we lit our candles and circled the sacred pagoda in age old rituals on auspicious occasions; and, at the end of a long hard day, we sit on our city balconies with a glass of wine and think how lucky we are to have such a magnificent view.