One of the things I have come to enjoy about my newly adopted hometown of Hua Hin is that there seems to be no shortage of special events on the calendar.

Were that not wonderful enough, most of them seem to revolve around food.

My latest adventure in this category was an event I discovered this past weekend.

It was called Food Fest.

Now let me pause right there.

Calling this event “Food Fest” would be like calling the Eiffel Tower the Radio Tower.

Technically accurate.

But a rather gross understatement.

The event was held a short tuk-tuk ride south of my condo in Nong Kae, a wonderful little neighborhood on the south side of Khao Takiab — or Monkey Mountain, as regular readers of my ramblings may remember.

But I digress.

Upon exiting our taxi, my friend Nareewan and I made our way toward the beach.

We needed no directions.

We just followed the crowd.

We wandered through a maze of dazzling light displays and costumed street performers, steadily making our way toward the ever-increasing sound of music coming from the main stage.

Then our noses took over.

They redirected us toward row upon row of food booths.

Every booth inviting.

Every offering tempting.

Every bite delicious.

I didn’t stop to count the actual number, but I later learned there were more than 150 vendors on hand.

I have never seen so many varieties of fresh seafood in one place.

Lobster. Mussels. Calamari. Fish I’m fairly certain Jacques Cousteau had never even seen.

And it was all being prepared in seemingly every way imaginable.

Grilled.

Deep fried.

Baked.

Even raw.

There just had to be sushi, don’t you know?

And the prices?

Have you ever had a full serving of lobster for three dollars?

Or deep-fried calamari for two?

Didn’t think so.

Overhead, colorful hot-air balloons floated across the evening sky.

Music filled the air.

Lights illuminated the beach.

And everywhere we looked were locals and tourists, families and couples, and the occasional beach bum mingling, smiling and enjoying the warm evening air.

For a few hours, Hua Hin seemed to have decided that dinner should be an event.

And what an event it was.

Apparently, there are plans to make Food Fest an annual celebration and perhaps establish Hua Hin as an even greater food-tourism destination.

That sounds wonderful.

And yet, part of me hopes Hua Hin never loses what made that evening so special.

Not the food.

Not the lights.

Not even the lobster.

It was the feeling of a community coming together on a warm evening by the sea, with everyone simply enjoying being there.

I’ve traveled to some remarkable places in Southeast Asia.

I’ve climbed mountains.

Explored ancient temples.

Chased waterfalls.

Stood in awe of things that have been around for centuries.

But sometimes, discovering a place isn’t about seeing its most famous landmark.

Sometimes it’s about standing on a beach on an ordinary weekend evening, surrounded by people who live there, and realizing:

This is home.

And if that’s what everyday life in Hua Hin looks like, I think I’ve made a pretty good choice.

I’ll still try to save you some lobster.

Until next time.