Retirement in Northern Thailand – A Good Life of Simplicity and Peace
In 2012, I officially became a pensioner when the Norwegian government pension fund began paying my lifelong pension.
My lifestyle did not change much. I simply transitioned from a Non-Immigrant B visa to a Non-Immigrant O visa, and my lifelong pensions are easily reported to the Thai Revenue Department.
We remained in our same cosy, simple home just outside Doi Saket, in the countryside of Chiang Mai province. To me, this peaceful place has always felt a bit like my old mountain cabin in Norway — surrounded by nature, quiet, and full of fresh air.
Living Close to Nature
Thanks to good health, I’ve stayed active throughout my retirement. Long walks in the beautiful hills and rice fields around us have been a part of my daily life for years. The natural surroundings are truly breathtaking — and never boring.
Our house is small and modest, but the garden is large and full of life. My wife, Ann, is especially gifted in caring for it. She plants and tends to colorful flowers, trims the many trees, and keeps everything looking lovely. It’s become a kind of private park — and a happy playground for our dogs.
A Pond Full of Quiet Joy
Some years ago, with help from Koh, Cop, and Ef, we built a large fishpond next to the house. I had spent so many years at sea, and missed having fish around me. The pond is now home to about 30 koi, many of which were born right here with us, not bought.
They’ve been with us for years, and watching them glide through the water brings a peaceful rhythm to daily life. They've become part of our home in their own quiet, calming way.
I once filmed a short video of them and uploaded it to YouTube under the title “Happy Fish in Chiang Mai” — a small moment of joy I felt was worth sharing.
A Simple, Grateful Life
We don’t live in luxury, but in quiet contentment. Doi Saket has given me the perfect place to grow older — close to nature, close to my family, and far from stress. It’s not the kind of retirement you see in glossy brochures, but it’s real, and it’s full of grace.
For that, I’m deeply thankful.
Simple Days, Simple Joys
Life today is peaceful and grounded in routines that give each day rhythm and meaning.
One of my quiet pleasures is preparing our monthly chicken broth — a tradition that has become part of our little household.
We light the outdoor fires, fill the large pots with chicken and fresh water, and let them slowly simmer under the open sky. Our four dogs keep me company, waiting patiently for a treat or two, as they always do. When the broth is ready, I pour it into small containers, one for each day, and place them in the freezer — a simple ritual that brings comfort and structure to our life here.
Ann and I do the same with fresh salad, chopping vegetables together at our small outdoor kitchen. It is not a fancy place — but with the mountains, rice fields, and morning breeze all around us, it feels better than any fine restaurant.
Sometimes Ann’s brother joins us, and the laughter around the table reminds me how deeply meaningful a quiet life can be.
These simple moments — a warm fire, good food, peaceful work, loyal dogs, and the beauty of nature around us — are my definition of happiness today.
Our faithful old car, waiting patiently under the palm trees — ready to bring us home after every walk.
Walking Into Peace — Every Morning and Evening
Twice a day, rain or shine, my dogs and I take our walks along the quiet canals near our home. The world feels very still there — just water, palm trees, open skies, and the soft sounds of birds settling into the evening or waking with the dawn.
These walks are more than exercise.
They are a pause in time — a moment to breathe, to reflect, and to simply be.
My faithful old car waits under the palm trees for our return, ready to bring us home after each walk. The roads between here and the house are not ideal for wandering dogs (and the local chickens most certainly agree!), so this little routine suits us perfectly.
With every step, I feel grateful for the good health that allows me to keep moving — and for the loyal company of four dogs who never let me walk alone. Their joy in these simple moments keeps me grounded and reminds me every day that happiness does not need to be complicated.
In these peaceful paths, surrounded by nature and quiet, life feels full and complete.
Signing the well-wishing book for His Majesty the King at Thailand’s Revenue Department — a small moment of gratitude and respect in a country that has given me so much.
A Meaningful Day at the Revenue Department
At the end of July 2025, I visited the Revenue Department in Chiang Mai to collect the documents confirming my yearly income tax payments in Thailand — the Income Tax Payment Certificate and Certificate of Residence. These are required by the Norwegian tax authorities to confirm that my pension is taxed in Thailand, in accordance with the tax agreement between our two countries.
Koh joined me that morning, and we were happy to find that the visit coincided with His Majesty King Maha Vajiralongkorn’s birthday, on 28 July. At the Revenue Department, a table was prepared for the public to sign a Well-Wishing Book for His Majesty. Koh and I both added our messages of respect and gratitude.
Just beside the main entrance stood a beautiful sala (pavilion) with fresh flowers and offerings, a quiet reminder of the deep cultural respect that continues to define daily life in Thailand. These small but meaningful expressions of devotion and kindness always move me deeply.
Over the years, every interaction I have had with the Thai Revenue Department has been marked by efficiency, grace, and genuine helpfulness. It stands in pleasant contrast to what many foreigners expect from tax offices elsewhere.
A Peaceful Pond
After so many years living by the sea and spending my days in the water, I found that I missed the quiet beauty of aquatic life. And so the idea of a small pond was born — not grand or planned, just a simple wish to bring a little of that calm water-world into our home.
What began as nothing more than an empty patch of ground in front of our home soon turned into a community effort. Neighbors arrived with stacks of bricks, bags of cement, and helping hands. With simple tools, shared effort, and plenty of laughter, the pond slowly took shape.
Today, it is home to koi that were not purchased, but born here — growing with us year after year. They move quietly beneath the water, unhurried and undisturbed, as the trees reflect above them.
There is nothing dramatic about it — just a peaceful corner of our garden where nature thrives, life settles, and the days feel gentle and steady.
Sometimes, the beauty we miss returns in another form — quieter, smaller, but just as meaningful.