<span>I’m from New Zealand. Deep down south on the globe, it’s a country regularly left off world maps (not for political reasons, but because it is simply forgotten, which is somehow more insulting).</span> <span>Most places are unattainably far away for Kiwi travellers. When I was younger, I often daydreamed about going to Paris, but it was too huge a journey. </span> <span>I’d seen baguettes and bikes with baskets in so many movies set in Paris, and had a sickeningly romantic vision of it. So, when I got there as a bright-eyed 25-year-old traveller, I discovered a fascinating place, but one that didn’t live up to the picture in my mind’s eye.</span> <span>Julie Delpy hadn't been ridiculed by a French waiter for the way she pronounced croissant in 1995's </span><span><em>Before Sunrise</em></span><span>, but I was with my "un cross-aunt merci". And in a 2004 episode of </span><span><em>Sex and the City</em></span><span>, Carrie Bradshaw </span><span>stayed in a hotel room with a view of the Eiffel Tower and a flower-lined terrace – she </span><span>did not, like me, have to share a shoebox with a view of a brick wall with two other people </span><span>to afford to stay anywhere near the city's single-digit arrondissements.</span> <span>A decade later and I've only just realised that having no expectation of a place, and doing very little research about it – which in my case is often down to laziness – can actually benefit a traveller. </span><span>I recently visited Chiang Mai, which I knew almost nothing about before I went. I've been to Thailand a few times (it's further south than Paris), but I'd never been to, or even thought about, the north of the country.</span> <span>In my five nights there, I did none of the "top five" experiences recommended by TripAdvisor. When I got back, people asked me, happy anticipation on their faces, if I had tried the gibbons zip line/bathed the elephants/been into the hills – and I sheepishly had to respond with a "no" every time. "What </span><span><em>did </em></span><span>you do?" they asked. Well, to be honest, not much – but I do feel like I know</span><span><em> </em></span><span>Chiang Mai now.</span> <span>I treated the week as an opportunity to slowly imbibe a city, walking around the beautiful Old Town, crossing the river to explore art galleries and mini temples,</span><span> and often merely sitting and observing. </span> <span>I planned my days mostly around street food – and went to places recommended by people I met, rather than by Google or TripAdvisor. From deep-fried frog’s legs at the Hanging Restaurant to the best rotisserie I’ve ever eaten at SP Chicken, I woke up knowing what I was going to eat for lunch, and spent my morning walking there, stopping at whatever market, temple and coffee spot I found on the way. I was a modern-day female flaneur, and it was delightful. </span> <span>The food was memorable, but the unplanned detours were, too. As a friendly Chiang Mai resident explained the Buddhist significance of the day I was born on,</span><span> after I had wandered into a tiny temple that didn't feature on any online lists, I realised that it's often the things you don't plan, or imagine, that turn out to be the most enjoyable.</span>