In Auckland there comes a day in Spring when we’ll get the urge to open our bedroom doors for the first time and enjoy a morning cup of tea. In bed. In the fresh air. Molly, our Border Terrier, heads outside to bark at the dog up the hill, then hops back up on the bed to relax. By April there’ll have been a few cooler days, and one or two that feel really cold, so the French doors will stay closed again.

But much of the world would say our Winters are just a little less balmy than our Summers. Heather, for example, grew up in Ontario. She reckons that snow’s just fine as long as you have the right clothes. On the other hand I never saw the stuff until I was 18-19, and that was hitchhiking on the Desert Road in suede shoes, helping push stuck cars back up a slope with Ken. It was cold.

Northern Thailand is not like that. Nor were the Solomon Islands, where we lived for three years. We thought that was hot and humid — but we were on an Island with sea breezes, and trade winds for part of the year. Working in a boat yard, which meant we men could walk around in shorts, young and bare chested. We lived on a breezy hillside overlooking the bay, started work sensibly at 7.00 and stopped at 4.00 most days to put our feet up on the verandah rail for a XXXX Queensland beer and a chinwag.

But in the Solomons the temperature was only about 30C. Here it’s been 38-40C most days, dropping to the low or mid 20s at night, and at this time of year bloody humid.

The first day or two in Chiang Rai were unrelentingly oppressive. The sun beat down when we left the shade. My cap was ridiculous, and I relented and bought a Panama. The places we’ve been staying at have had big overhanging roofs, been screened against mosquitos and open to the breeze, but even so we’ve got breathless.

But now we’ve learned to sweat. Or rather learned to drink a lot and feel comfortable sweating, and at that point we arrived.

We’re now in Chiang Mai, in a little bungalow set in the middle of a lush walled garden. The room was hot and muggy when we got home, but two vigorous wall fans working behind me are helping. The space is screened on three sides and I can hear the frogs croaking outside in the garden’s damp and shade. There’s a glass wall to our bedroom on my right.

The bedroom has an air conditioner. It was set to 21C when we first arrived but that felt like a punishment. We reset it to 26, and yet it’s still startlingly cold as we walk in … for a while. We come home, turn it on and it goes full blast until the temperature drops. The bedroom wall fan helps too. Lie on the bed, and as the temperature reaches 26-7 it’s quiet and refreshing. That’s where Heather is lounging now.

But as I walk in — and the cold hits me — I can’t believe we’ll leave the AC on all night and sleep uncovered most of that time.

So we’re used to it all now. Which means we don’t mind a good sweat, and, as long as one can afford the blessings I’ve just described, Chiang Mai is a pretty comfortable place. It’s late afternoon now and trending cooler. The breeze is picking up and maybe we’re heading for a downpour, which would be refreshing.