Southeast Asia events in 2026

The Balloon Fiesta began in 1994 on the old Clark Parade Grounds, a few years after Mount Pinatubo buried the region in ash and while the Americans were still packing up, and it grew into the largest aviation event in the country. After moving around for a while it settled at New Clark City in Capas, Tarlac — about 45 minutes north of Angeles City — and the 2026 edition ran 13–15 February.

The format has not changed much in thirty years. Gates open before dawn; the balloons inflate and lift off around sunrise while the air is still, which is the part worth setting an alarm for. The rest of the day brings skydiving teams, aerobatic displays, remote-control aircraft, kite flying, food stalls and an enormous number of Filipino families. There is a second flight window in the late afternoon and, on the main night, the "night glow" — tethered balloons lit from the inside like paper lanterns, with a band playing.

Practicalities. Get there for five in the morning if you want the dawn launch, which means leaving Angeles around four; a van or a Grab both work, and hotels will arrange a driver. It is cold at that hour by Philippine standards and hot by ten. Buy tickets online in advance. Angeles hotels fill up that weekend and charge accordingly, so book ahead, and the pool-party hotels usually run a fiesta-weekend edition. Dates and even the venue have moved more than once, so confirm before you build a trip around it.

Ramadan is the Islamic month of fasting from dawn to sunset, and in the two Muslim-majority countries in this guide — Indonesia and Malaysia — it visibly changes a visitor's evening. In Jakarta, many clubs and bars in Blok M, Mangga Besar and elsewhere close for the month or cut back to a fraction of their hours; live music venues go quiet, some restaurants curtain their windows during daylight, and local authorities issue guidance to entertainment venues that varies from year to year and district to district. Kuala Lumpur is looser — Changkat Bukit Bintang keeps trading for its largely non-Muslim and expat crowd — but the mood is subdued and hours are shorter.

The month ends with Eid al-Fitr — Lebaran in Indonesia, Hari Raya Aidilfitri in Malaysia — and that is the bigger disruption. It triggers the largest annual human migration in Indonesia, the mudik, when tens of millions of people leave the cities for their home towns. Jakarta empties for a week, which is either eerie and wonderful or extremely dull depending on what you came for. Transport sells out, prices rise and a lot of businesses close for several days.

None of this is a reason to be nervous. Non-Muslim visitors are not expected to fast and nobody will mind you eating; the courtesy is simply not to eat, drink or smoke conspicuously in the street during daylight, and to dress a little more carefully than usual. Bali, being Hindu, is essentially unaffected apart from a busier airport at Eid. If your only reason for going to Jakarta or Kuala Lumpur is the nightlife, pick another month.

Tết Nguyên Đán is Vietnam's New Year, its Christmas and its national homecoming rolled into one, and it dominates the calendar for weeks. Families clean and repaint the house, settle debts, buy kumquat trees and peach or apricot blossom, and travel — sometimes hundreds of miles — to be with their parents on the first day of the new year. In 2027 that first day is 6 February.

The effect on a visitor is severe and it surprises people every year. Domestic flights and trains sell out weeks ahead and fares double. Restaurants, shops, markets, laundries, barbers and a great many bars close for anything from three days to two weeks; the ones that stay open charge a Tết surcharge and run on a fraction of their usual staff. Grab drivers thin out. Museums and offices shut. Bui Vien Street keeps a handful of tourist bars going and looks like a shadow of itself; Hanoi's Ta Hien is quieter still.

What is genuinely worth seeing: the flower markets in the days before, the fireworks at midnight on New Year's Eve, the streets scrubbed and lit, and the extraordinary calm of a Vietnamese city with nobody in it. If a woman you have been talking to invites you home for Tết, that is a serious gesture and an extraordinary experience — accept it, bring gifts, and read up on the etiquette first, because the first visitor across the threshold on New Year's Day is believed to set the family's luck for the year.

The Philippines is the largest Catholic country in Asia and Holy Week is the week that fact becomes unmissable. From Palm Sunday the tone changes; by Maundy Thursday the government, the banks and most large businesses are closed for two days, television switches to religious programming, and anyone who can leaves the cities for the province or the beach.

For the bar districts the effect is uneven but real. There is no national alcohol ban, but a great many bars in Angeles City, Manila and Cebu close, close early or trade quietly with no music on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, some barangays discourage them from opening at all, and much of the staff — most of them Catholic — go home to their families for the week. Fields Avenue on Good Friday is the quietest you will ever see it. Black Saturday is subdued, and everything reopens with a bang on Easter Sunday.

If you are here anyway, it is not a lost week: hotels run normally, pools are open, pharmacies and hospitals work, the Clark casinos and hotel restaurants trade, and it is the peak of the dry season, so it is hot and bright. It is also the week to see the country rather than the strip — the Good Friday penitential processions in Pampanga, and the crucifixion re-enactments at San Pedro Cutud in San Fernando, are among the most extraordinary sights in Asia and half an hour from Angeles. Get your cash out by Wednesday: ATMs run dry and the malls shut.

Nyepi is the Balinese Hindu new year and the strictest public observance anywhere in this guide. For a full 24 hours from six in the morning the island shuts: no traffic on the roads, no flights in or out of Ngurah Rai, no work, no entertainment, no fires or lights, no leaving your accommodation and nobody at all on the beaches. Traditional village wardens, the pecalang, patrol to enforce it, and foreign visitors who ignore it have been fined, detained and in some cases deported.

The night before is the opposite. Villages across the island parade ogoh-ogoh — huge, grotesque, brilliantly made papier-mâché demons — through the streets with gamelan and torches, and burn them at the end to drive the evil spirits out. It is one of the great spectacles of Southeast Asia and it is free.

Practically, what this means for you: do not book a flight into or out of Bali on Nyepi, because there is not one. Check the date before you book anything at all — 19 March in 2026 and 9 March in 2027. Hotels stay open and look after guests: meals are served, bars operate quietly indoors, and curtains are drawn so no light shows outside. Wifi has been switched off island-wide in some recent years. You can swim in the hotel pool at most properties but not make noise. Treat it as an enforced day off with a book, or move your trip. Ramadan, by contrast, barely touches Hindu Bali.

Chaul Chnam Thmey is Cambodia's biggest holiday, three days in mid-April marking the end of the harvest and the start of the new year, and it happens at the same time as Songkran in Thailand and Pi Mai in Laos for the same calendrical reasons. Families go to the pagoda, build small sand mounds in the temple grounds, wash Buddha images and elders' hands with scented water, and play a set of traditional games that a visitor will be roped into at least once.

The important thing to understand is direction of travel. Phnom Penh is a city of internal migrants, and at New Year almost all of them go home to the provinces. Shops shut, restaurants close for the week, staff numbers in the bars drop, and the capital gets noticeably, unusually quiet — pleasant if you like an empty city, disappointing if you came for the evenings. Siem Reap goes the other way and throws the biggest public party in the country, with a street festival by the river and the temples full.

What you will still find in Phnom Penh: the riverfront does a version of the Thai water fight, with buckets, hoses and clouds of talcum powder smeared on strangers' faces, most enthusiastically along Sisowath Quay. Some bars close for the whole three days and some do their best trade of the month. Government offices, banks and visa services shut, so do not plan an extension that week. Prices for hotels stay flat in the capital and rise sharply in Siem Reap.

Songkran began as a gentle Buddhist new-year ritual — pouring scented water over elders' hands and over Buddha images — and has become the largest water fight on earth. For three days in the middle of April, and for about a week in Pattaya, anyone on a street is fair game: buckets, hoses, super-soakers, ice water from the back of a pickup, and white chalk paste smeared on your face by strangers who mean it kindly.

Pattaya does it longer and harder than anywhere. The official days are the 13th to the 15th, but the city has its own tradition, Wan Lai, that runs the party out to 19 April along Beach Road and Second Road, with Naklua going on the 18th. Bangkok's set pieces are Silom, which closes to traffic, and Khao San Road, which does not need to. Bars trade throughout; alcohol sales are not banned during Songkran, unlike the Buddhist holy days.

What it means practically. Everything electronic dies unless it is in a sealed bag — buy a waterproof phone pouch on day one and use it. Do not carry anything that cannot get soaked, including your passport. Traffic accidents spike horribly across the country during what Thai media call the "seven dangerous days", and drink-driving and wet roads are the reason; do not rent a motorbike this week. Hotels charge peak rates and sell out months ahead. And if you genuinely want a quiet trip, come in March or May instead — there is nowhere to hide from this, and staying dry is not one of the options.

Thailand bans the sale of alcohol for a full day on its major Buddhist holidays. The four that matter to a visitor are Makha Bucha in February or March, Visakha Bucha in May, Asalha Bucha and Khao Phansa — the start of Buddhist Lent — which fall on consecutive days in July, and Ok Phansa at the end of Lent in late October. Because they follow the lunar calendar they move by about eleven days a year, which is exactly why people get caught.

What actually happens on the ground varies more than the law suggests. The 7-Elevens and supermarkets genuinely stop selling — the beer fridges get taped shut and the tills refuse the barcode. Licensed entertainment venues are the gray area: in some years and some zones the go-go bars and beer bars close completely, in others they trade quietly, and enforcement has historically been stricter in Bangkok than in Pattaya and stricter in tourist areas than out of them. Hotel minibars, room service and international-airport duty free are exempt. Buy a couple of bottles the night before if you care.

It is also worth knowing that Khao Phansa marks the start of the three-month Buddhist rains retreat, when a lot of Thais give up drinking altogether — the "Buddhist Lent" abstinence campaign is a real thing, and bar staff who suddenly stop drinking in July are not being difficult.

Kuliat was the name of this place before the Spanish, after a vine that grew here, and Fiestang Kuliat is the city's month-long celebration of itself. It hangs on the October feasts at the Holy Rosary parish church in the heritage district downtown, and around them the city programs arts stages, a Kapampangan food fair — this is the culinary capital of the Philippines and it takes that seriously — bazaars, an off-road bash, and a battle of the bands.

The part most visitors care about is Tigtigan Terakan keng Dalan, which translates roughly as "music and dancing in the streets". It runs on a Friday and Saturday toward the end of the month, closes roads in Balibago, and puts multiple stages, beer tents and food stalls out under the open sky with a crowd of tens of thousands. It is a Filipino street party rather than a tourist event: OPM bands, families early, a young crowd late, and the bar strip a few hundred yards away doing its own business at the same time.

Practicalities. The exact street-party dates come from City Hall a few weeks out, so do not book flights around a date you found on a blog. Hotels in Balibago fill up, especially when the party lands on the Halloween weekend, which it sometimes does — and when both happen at once the whole district is heaving. Go on foot, carry small notes, and expect the tricycles to be useless in the closed streets. It is safe, good-humored and loud until well past midnight.

Halloween is not a Filipino tradition — All Saints' and All Souls' Days on 1 and 2 November are, and they are family occasions when the whole country goes to the cemeteries — but the bars of Angeles City adopted it years ago and turned it into the party night of the year. From the last week of October the strip fills with cobwebs, pumpkins and increasingly ambitious window displays.

On the 31st itself, and on the Friday or Saturday nearest it, every go-go bar on Walking Street and Fields Avenue runs a themed costume show, usually with cash and bottle prizes, and the staff commit to it properly. Bars that never charge a cover still do not. The pool-party hotels around Balibago run Halloween editions in the afternoon so you can start early and be on the strip by dark, and a good number of visitors make an effort with a wig, which the locals find delightful.

Practicalities. Rooms in Balibago sell out and rates rise; book in September, especially if the fiesta street party lands on the same weekend. The two days that follow are the real Philippine holidays — All Saints' and All Souls' — when a lot of staff go home to their provinces and the strip is noticeably thinner, so plan the big night for the 31st rather than the 1st. Carry your phone in a front pocket in the crush, and be aware that the barangay election liquor bans have occasionally fallen in early November.

Pchum Ben is the fortnight when Cambodians feed their dead. The belief is that for fifteen days the gates of the underworld open and the spirits of ancestors wander in search of their descendants; families rise before dawn to bring rice and food offerings to pagodas — often seven different ones — so that no ancestor goes unfed. It is the most solemn and most widely observed festival in the country, more so than New Year, and it has none of the party atmosphere of the water festival.

The dates move with the Khmer lunar calendar and fall in late September or October; 2026 lands in the first half of October, and the government publishes the exact public holidays each year. The last three days are national holidays and the effect on Phnom Penh is the same as at New Year, only quieter: banks and government offices close, a great many restaurants and shops shut for several days, and the large proportion of the city's workforce who come from the provinces go home to their families.

For a visitor that means a subdued few days. The bars along Street 136 and the Riverside mostly stay open but with thin staff and thinner crowds, and the mood is respectful. It is a fascinating thing to witness — the pre-dawn pagoda visits are extraordinary, and visitors are welcome if they dress modestly and stay out of the way — but it is not the week for a first Cambodia trip. Do your visa business before it starts.

Bon Om Touk marks one of the strangest pieces of hydrology on earth. For most of the year the Tonlé Sap river drains the great lake into the Mekong; during the monsoon the Mekong is so swollen that it pushes the Tonlé Sap backwards and fills the lake. When the water drops in November the river reverses again, and Cambodia throws a party about it.

The centerpiece is three days of longboat racing on the river in front of the Royal Palace — hundreds of narrow boats with forty or more paddlers each, provincial teams, drums, and a crowd packed ten deep along Sisowath Quay. In the evenings there are illuminated floats on the water, fireworks, concerts on the riverfront and a sampeah preah khae moon salutation. Something like a million or two million people come in from the provinces for it, in a city of two million.

For a visitor this is either the best week of the year or the worst, and there is no middle option. Riverside and BKK1 hotels sell out weeks ahead and put their prices up. Street 136 and the riverfront bars are as busy as they ever get, with a large Cambodian crowd rather than an expat one. Traffic is impossible, roads close, and tuk-tuks charge what they like. Petty theft in the crush is a genuine problem — carry nothing you would mind losing. The festival has been called off outright in several past years for flooding, mourning and public-health reasons, so confirm before you fly.

Loy Krathong is the night Thailand puts its year on the water. A krathong is a small float — traditionally banana leaf, flowers, a candle and three incense sticks, and increasingly bread or biodegradable material because the old polystyrene ones ruined the canals. You light it, make a wish, let it go, and watch a few thousand candles drift out with everyone else's.

In Pattaya the whole beachfront turns out: families on the sand at Jomtien, couples along Beach Road, hotels running buffets, temple fairs with food stalls and fireworks over the bay. Bangkok does it along the Chao Phraya and in the park ponds. Chiang Mai's version, with paper lanterns going up as well as floats going out, is the one on the postcards and books out a year ahead.

Two practical notes. The first is that it is a genuine date night — the women you meet here grew up doing this, it is affectionate rather than raucous, and a man who suggests it scores far more than one who suggests another bar. A krathong costs a dollar or two from a stall. The second is crowds: the beach roads get busy from about seven, taxis are hard to find at ten, and the bars are quieter than usual until the floats are away. As of August 2026 the lantern releases around airports remain restricted for obvious reasons, so buy your float rather than a lantern unless you are at an organized event.

Pattaya has run an international fireworks competition on its beach for years, and it is the best free night on the city's calendar. Teams from several countries take a slot each and fire a choreographed display over the bay to music, usually across a Friday and Saturday in late November, with food stalls, stages and a beach closed to everything except people.

The city has moved the dates around and occasionally the format, and City Hall tends to confirm only weeks in advance — so check the official announcement rather than a travel blog, and expect an anticlimax if you build a trip around a date you found in March. Late November is a good bet in most years, which conveniently sits near Loy Krathong and the start of high season.

How to do it. Beach Road closes and the traffic behind it seizes up completely, so stay walking distance from the beach or resign yourself to a long stroll from wherever the baht bus gives up. The sand fills from about six for a display that starts around eight; the north end near Central Festival is busiest and the Pratumnak end quieter. Anywhere with a sea-facing balcony is worth paying for, and the rooftop bars sell tickets. The bars on Walking Street are unusually quiet until the last shell goes up, and then they are not.

New Year's Eve in Pattaya is the high-water mark of the entire regional calendar. Walking Street is closed as usual to traffic and effectively closed to movement by about ten; the crowd is a mix of long-stay expats, Thai families down from Bangkok, Russians, Indians, Koreans and every visitor in Chonburi province. Countdowns run in the bars and on the street, and fireworks go up from the beach and from Bali Hai Pier at midnight and then, sporadically, for another hour.

What it costs. Hotels in central Pattaya sell out weeks ahead and charge two to three times their normal rate, often with a compulsory gala dinner on the 31st that you pay for whether you eat it or not — read the booking terms. Bars that never take a cover charge sometimes run a set price with a drink or two included. Beer is beer, but service is slow and the queues are real.

How to enjoy it rather than endure it. Eat early. Get onto the street before nine, pick a bar with a view of it and stay put, because moving after eleven is a contact sport. Keep your phone and wallet in front pockets — this is the single busiest pickpocketing night of the year in the city. Baht buses stop running the length of Beach Road, so plan on walking home or on a long wait. And if crowds are not your thing, Jomtien and Naklua run smaller, friendlier versions of the same evening with the same fireworks in the distance.