You’d be hard-pressed to find a more charming paradox than Thailand during Songkran. One minute, you’re bowing before a golden Buddha; the next, a cheeky eight-year-old in a bucket hat has hosed you down with ice water. Meanwhile, Loy Krathong offers a gentler contrast—where else can you find serenity, floating lotus baskets, and a fairground soundtrack all rolled into one?
These two festivals—cultural dynamos in their own right—have the makings of global tourism juggernauts. Yet, according to the bright minds over at Sasin Management Consulting (SMC), they remain criminally underleveraged. In tourism terms, it’s like owning the Opera House but never scheduling a performance.
Everyone’s Heard of Them—No One’s Booking
The stats don’t lie, though they do raise an eyebrow. SMC’s recent study reveals that while 75% of potential overseas tourists are aware of Songkran, only 20% have experienced it. Loy Krathong performs even worse—half the world’s heard of it, but only 16% have graced its moonlit banks.
Why the gap? Let’s say the magic of Thai hospitality doesn’t always extend to logistics.
Barriers, Bugs and Buckets of Water
First up: safety. A quarter of those surveyed expressed concerns about public safety during the chaos of Songkran. While locals might be used to it, a jet-lagged family from Frankfurt probably doesn’t expect to be ambushed by a water cannon at 9 am on their way to breakfast.
Next? Festival management—or the polite term for absolute pandemonium. Visitors complain about crowd control, unclear event schedules, and facilities that range from rustic to ‘bring-your-own-toilet-paper’.
Infrastructure was also called out. A sprightly 13% of respondents thought the facilities fell short of global expectations. If you’ve ever queued for a tuk-tuk in 40-degree heat, you’ll understand why.
Oh—and here’s the kicker: a quarter of international tourists said they didn’t know what these festivals were about. Which, let’s be honest, is a PR crime.
More Than Just a Splash
Songkran isn’t just about drenching your mates and strangers with garden hoses. At its heart, it’s a spiritual cleansing—an act of washing away misfortune and paying respect to elders. Loy Krathong, meanwhile, is a gentle nudge to the heavens: an offering of gratitude, a letting-go of grudges, and a small prayer set afloat under the stars.
However, you would never know that unless someone told you. Cue the need for cultural storytelling—something with a bit more depth than a social media filter and an airline discount code.
Tourism Gold Going Unmined
And here’s the real kicker: despite the disorganisation, these festivals still rake it in. Songkran 2024 generated 140 billion baht in just 21 days and attracted 1.92 million overseas visitors. Not bad for an event half the world doesn’t understand. Loy Krathong chipped in another 6.9 billion baht in domestic travel, up 12% from the year before.
Imagine if they tried.
Fix the Roof Before the Rain
If Thailand wants its festivals to join the global circuit alongside Carnival in Brazil or Holi in India, here’s the five-point game plan:
- Infrastructure Overhaul – More toilets. Fewer queues. Reliable internet. It’s not rocket science.
- Clear Safety Measures – Let’s replace chaos with calm—visible police, clear signage, and English-speaking stewards wouldn’t go astray.
- Professional Event Management – No more cryptic flyers and last-minute parade changes. Tourists like plans, not puzzles.
- Cultural Context – Add meaning to the mayhem. Explain the why, not just the what.
- Immersive, Not Passive – Offer cooking classes, dance workshops, and lantern-making. Let them in on the ritual, not just the selfie.
What’s at Stake? Only Everything.
Festivals are memory-makers. They’re the bits of travel people talk about after the tan fades. Thailand has two such gems already polished and waiting. All that’s left is to frame them properly.
So, let’s tell the world: come for the chaos, stay for the soul. Just don’t forget your umbrella.
By Yves Thomas