Getting lost at Gaia Beats

Gaia Beats occupies a unique middle ground on the Chiang Mai festival circuit. It avoids the high-octane EDM spectacle of Thantawan, yet stops short of the deep-rooted ‘hippie’ eccentricity found at Shambala In Your Heart. This was only the festival’s second year, and while I missed the inaugural edition, which was smaller and ran for just one day, I arrived expecting something fairly intimate, even with the expansion to a three-day format.

Walking into the festival, the first thing that hit me was just how beautiful it all looked, and how much thought had clearly gone into it. At its heart, the festival was about connecting with nature and community, and showing that a good party did not have to come at the planet’s expense.

About an hour east of Chiang Mai in Mae On, Gaia Beats took over Sense Hot Spring Wellness – a hotel and spa complex tucked into forested hills. Before I even made it to a stage, the visual language of the place stopped me in my tracks. Giant dome-shaped bamboo and fabric shades stretched over pathways and gathering spaces, sunlight filtering through lush bamboo landing on the site’s unmistakable deep purple buildings. Psychedelic, hand-painted signage created by a team of volunteers popped up throughout, reinforcing the sense that every detail had been crafted by hand.

That sense of care carried across the entire site. The property sprawls with clusters of buildings set among water features and gardens, hot springs, a small reservoir edged by campers and forest paths looping between stages, workshops and rest areas. It was a striking space perfect for wandering.

Bumping into friends is half the fun

Within moments of walking in, I started bumping into people. Friends, acquaintances, musicians, artists. We were all more excited to see each other than usual and eyed each other’s festival fashions with praise. Stilt performers drifted through the trees with circus artists, stopping for photos with festival-goers. Little visual surprises and props were tucked into countless discrete corners to add to the fun.

At one point, I was struggling up a steep jungle path in borrowed flip-flops (mine broke on day one) when I heard my friend David ask, ‘Do you need a hand?’ I looked up to see a mannequin arm reaching out to me which I promptly grabbed as he humorously pulled me up. We had a good chuckle and left said arm balanced on a tree for the next silly person.

Letting the music lead the way

There were four distinct music areas, all impressively well spaced with minimal sound bleed. The Horizon Stage sat closest to the market zone and served as the festival’s main stage, hosting the larger live performances and big bands with Notep and Rasmee among them. Deeper in the jungle through a forested path was Kindred Caravan, which quickly became my favourite spot. It was intimate and shaded by trees, dotted with quirky art objects and felt more like a gathering from Lord of the Flies than a formal performance venue. Light installations dangled from branches overhead, while a bonfire and a small bakery shared the same clearing. I drank a warm chai, lounged on a haystack and watched friends slip in and out of a loose, joyful live jazz jam session.

Synergy Stage and Bunker Stage handled the DJ sets, each with distinct moods that morphed throughout the day. Synergy felt like a full-blown jungle rave, with dreamcatchers hanging from the trees above and dancers completely in their element, spinning hoops and swirling props under the canopy. Set beside the reservoir, it became a perfect sunset meeting point, where I shared homemade kratom with strangers and met my friend’s mother for the first time, who was also impressively camping on-site (she’s in her 70s).

Once night fell, Bunker became the place to be. A jungle slope had been cleared into a natural amphitheatre, washed in neon lighting that felt more like an art installation than a dancefloor, crowned with a striking stretch tent made by one of the DJs, Wilfred. Just above it all, his wife Puja sold her festival-ready crocheted creations under the playful brand Peace of Puja, adding yet another layer of handmade charm to the space.

Moving between stages meant wandering along forest paths strung with soft lights, passing fire dancers, bonfires and the occasional bakery stall or bar along the way. Every so often we drifted past the spa and onsen pools – a gentle reminder that taking a break was always an option. Some of the best moments came from running into friends en route, who inevitably tagged along to the next stage.

More than just music

Gaia Beats was not only about stages. Workshops ran throughout the day across two dedicated zones and felt genuinely woven into the rhythm and ethos of the festival. There were sound baths, yoga sessions and creative workshops that created natural moments of pause between sets. I joined a session with Atira Tan on trauma-informed use of psychedelics out of curiosity, and found it grounded, considered and refreshingly responsible. Another standout was Sebastian Bruno’s workshop on the Five Elements in Thai medicine, which offered a deeper look at bodywork and balance through a local lens.

The children’s area was another highlight. ‘The Junkyard’ was a loose-parts playground designed for tinkering and exploration, run by an excellent local crew led by Anthony. Thoughtful details were everywhere, from a giant bamboo cone called ‘The Well Wish Tree’ that invited kids to climb inside and dream up their wishes, to a sign that read ‘Lost child? Check here.’ I laughed when I saw it, but Anthony was quick to point out that it was also genuinely useful.

Reflections on a young festival

For all its beauty and ambition, Gaia Beats is still a young festival and a few things were clearly being figured out in real time.

In the spirit of its zero-waste ethos, food was served on reusable melamine plates. The idea was solid, but the system around returning and washing them could have used a bit more thought, especially at this price point. Dipping my hands into a series of increasingly mysterious buckets of water was not exactly my favourite festival memory.

Parking also took some planning (and an extra fee). Shuttles ran from a designated area several kilometres away and only every 30 minutes, with cut-off times that caught a few people out. In the end, many attendees resorted to parking along the roadside closer to the event.

Gaia stays with you

I left with plenty of smiles and a little dust, in the best possible way. Between the purple buildings, jungle dancefloors, impromptu jam sessions and easy conversations with strangers, it was full of small moments that added up to something bigger. It was more than just fun or beautiful. It had heart, leaned into community and gently nudged me to think a bit harder about my own footprint on Mother Earth. I’ll be back next year.