Bangkok winter used to mean one thing
Beer gardens.
The halcyon days of yore, when Chang served marginal beer in really fun settings.
Do you smell that in the air? No, not the canal water. No, no, not the pollution coming back. Okay, no, definitely not the—look, it’s winter. I’m talking about winter.
I woke up this morning to 24 Celsius and slightly lesser humidity. The forecast for the weekend—one that includes Brewtopia and a Samata art and can release at Payaq Gallery—looks even better.
Unlike where I grew up in the Midwest U.S., where the season chaps your skin, crushes your spirit, and drills you into submission for months on end, winter is all too brief in Bangkok. Some years, it lasts only a few days before the heat kicks up again.
But brevity gives the season a special character.
Many of us1 put on puffy jackets and jumpers, as if we were in Hokkaido. We take long lunch breaks and long walks. We get outdoors as much as possible.
In the past, one of the best ways to soak up the season—while also engaging in Bangkok’s favorite pastime: eating and drinking—was to go to the beer gardens.
Every December, sprawling pop-up beer gardens sponsored by the major players used to jockey for space and battle for your attention. Chang set one up in front of CentralWorld that staged rock bands and seated hundreds. The elephantine beer once took over Chuvit Gardens, a former green space on the corner of Sukhumvit Soi 10 with a legendary backstory that would require a lengthy and very much R-rated non-sequitur to unpack.2
Singha served beer, food, and live music at Major Ratchayothin and The Up Rama III. Heineken had one that last appeared at EmQuartier. Even Carlsberg and Federbräu, the latter a German-sounding ThaiBev brand, had their own month-long parties.
What made these interesting, beyond their simple, sudsy pleasures, was that the brands seemed to be trying to outdo one another.
One year, Singha started serving its Est. 33 offshoots, like Kopper and Snowy, at its beer gardens. Chang’s riposte was to serve flavored Chang outside Sathorn Square.3
The live acts got bigger and louder with bands like Greasy Cafe, Stamp Apiwat, and Desktop Error.4 The beer gardens fanned out across the city—from Ratchada to Rama III, from Ari to Ekkamai—and they were slammed no matter the location.
This occurred every winter for years, perhaps even decades. They certainly predated my arrival in Bangkok in 2011.
Then, suddenly, they started to get quieter, and after 2019, the tradition ended.
Officials had considered shutting down the beer gardens for years. I used to keep track of this when I was writing event round-ups for print magazines.5
There had long been complaints that beer gardens promoted drinking.6 While consumers thought this was a good thing, temperance groups did not. With a timely assist from pandemic restrictions, the more puritanical ideals won out in 2020.
While some small beer gardens still pop up at places like La Villa Ari, the big, thundering bashes that had been as much a part of the annual calendar as Christmas or New Year’s Eve parties haven’t returned.
But that doesn’t stop me from wishing every winter that I’ll be surprised. That Boon Rawd, ThaiBev, or, hey, maybe Tawandang now will quietly announce a cold-season beer garden in front of the malls in Ratchaprasong. That something a whole lot of the city’s working population once looked forward to will bring us joy again.
Programming note: I had planned on publishing a profile this week. For reasons that will become clear soon, I’ve put it on the backburner for the time being.
I’ve been loathe to let this project become little more than a beer blog. That has more or less what it has been in recent weeks, however. Moving forward, I intend to get back to the interviews, in-depth features, and fun columns I had envisioned for Critical Drinking when I decided to give this thing a whirl.
I still plan to publish analytical pieces, and I’ll be looking outward whenever I can. Regardless, expect more people-focused stories landing in your inbox.
Also, if you like what I’m doing here, please share it with friends. And if you aren’t receiving my emails, remember to check your spam folder.7 After all, newsletters are a relatively new format. They don’t always reach you as expected.
Not me.
In short, it involves strip clubs, a slumlord-turned-politician-turned-whistleblower, and a private park that has since been razed to build a condo.
Think flavors like lemongrass, raspberry, and “honey cream.” Consumers did not leave satisfied.
Desktop Error is a legitimately great noise rock band, for the record.
You have to be really certain events will happen before you put them in bi-weekly or monthly print magazines.
I mean, duh.
I threw up a little typing that.