EN TH

I’ve always seen Narai Hotel as a symbol of reassurance, reliability, and warmth. Our first home was just a stone’s throw away, and to this day I still live around the corner. Many of my childhood memories are deeply rooted in that place.

How could I forget my first bite of their pizza? At five years old, I would spend hours in the lobby, captivated by the vibrant atmosphere. It was always buzzing, with people coming and going for both business and leisure. I often overheard my Dad or Uncle talking about picking up customers from the hotel, while my Uncle-in-law would pass by it daily on his way home from our office. It was a place that always made me feel safe. Every time I saw the old building, I knew I was close to home and that simple sight brought a deep sense of reassurance.

So when I heard about the redevelopment, my heart sank. Reading the news filled me with sadness and a sense of loss, knowing that a piece of my childhood might disappear. The idea of that familiar landmark no longer being there felt overwhelming.

But then came a sense of comfort. I found relief in knowing that Hatai would still belong to the same people and was undergoing a positive transformation. It reminds me that while change is inevitable, the heart of a place and its legacy can live on.

— Pailin Chitprasertsuk, Freelance Journalist