The elephants at Four Seasons’s camp in northern Thailand have been rescued from Thai streets and beaches, where they were used as props for camera-touting tourists.
There are several ways of mounting an elephant and I make none of them look easy. Scrambling up the side, frog leaping over the head or just being dragged up by a sash, they're all humiliating. It's worth it, though, to be perched atop such a great beast, taking in an elephant's eye view of the world.
I'm in the heart of the Golden Triangle, the legendary confluence of the Ruak and Mekong rivers that delineates the borders of Thailand, Myanmar and Laos, at the Four Seasons Tented Camp where the itinerary includes elephant riding.
Yesterday, I arrived by way of long-tailed boat, easily one of the finest modes of transportation on Earth. The long, wooden skiff, no wider than a kayak, floats low on the water, so riders sit just below the surface. At speed, on the smooth surface of the Ruak, the boat carves sleek wakes through the brown water replicating what it must feel like to surf a good wave.
Drifting into the hotel's dock I'm greeted with a moist towel, a welcome amenity that's nearly ubiquitous in Thailand, and offered a glass of galangal-scented passion fruit juice. From there I'm shown to my tent. "Tent," as defined by Four Seasons is nothing like the flimsy nylon shelters most of us are accustomed to. At 581 square feet, with hardwood floors, it easily accommodates a king-sized bed, a hand-hammered copper tub complete with elephant head taps and a large desk. Grabbing the pair of binoculars from a bedside table I retire to the daybed on the vast deck and watch egrets fly over the rice fields of Myanmar, just across the river.
It's a tradition at the camp to gather before dinner at the Burma Bar, a thatched-roof, open air bar overlooking the Ruak River, for a cocktail and to discuss the next day's itinerary. Here I meet camp manager, Ali Mohammed, who offers me a bit of background on the elephants I'll be meeting tomorrow. "We work closely with the Golden Triangle Asian Elephant Foundation," he explains. "They rescue elephants from the streets and beaches of Thailand where they are basically used as props for people to take pictures with."
There, he goes on to explain, the animals are forced to work long hours and aren't always treated very well. The foundation rescues them, but because they've become so accustomed to city living they wouldn't fare very well if just released back into the wild. By bringing them here, the mahouts (elephant handlers), many of whom have worked with their animals since birth, and the elephants are able to still work, just in a much more relaxed setting. Resort fees and community donations ensure that the animals receive the best care and the mahouts are able to support their families.
Early the next morning I'm up and sporting the mahout outfit the hotel has provided: a blue denim shirt and short pants with a thick checkered sash that gets tied around the waist. After my breakfast I'm guided over to where the elephants are having theirs. Seeing a small herd of elephants in the jungle is an almost surreal experience. They are so massive and move in such a deliberate, rhythmic way they barely seem real.
By the time I get up next to them, touch their rough skin and look into their lovely eyes, though, they are very real indeed. I'm introduced to Yuki, a 25-year-old female who was born in Thailand's eastern Surin province near the Cambodian border, but who was sent to Japan – her name means "snow" in Japanese – shortly after that. Yuki was something of a celebrity for a while in Japan after appearing in a few commercials, but spent much of her life working the tourist strip in Pattaya, Thailand.
Before climbing aboard Yuki, there's a quick lesson on the role of elephants in Thailand's history. The original shock and awe weapon, elephants were used in battle for centuries, as well as for logging and general heavy lifting. I learn that they eat as much as 250 kilograms a day and their incredibly dexterous trunks contain 100,000 muscles. Then it's time to mount. Like a grey avalanche Yuki drops down to her side and I scramble up her knee and on to her neck, tucking my legs behind her ears. When she rises to her feet it feels like an earthquake.
We take a quick trip around a little trail, trying out the commands: Pai means forward, ben means turn and how – this is an important one – means stop. "Pai, Yuki, pai, pai," I say with some force and we're off. Yuki climbs a hill and the landscape opens up – thick, mist-shrouded bamboo jungles – and then descends toward the river. Next to breakfast, lunch and dinner, bath time is Yuki's favourite time of day.
She lumbers into the slow moving river and lets the water support her great bulk. I'm offered a sort of wooden ladle that I use to pour water over her head and back. At a command from her mahout Yuki thanks me by filling her trunk with water and unleashing a torrent of water that drenches me from head to toe. "How, Yuki, how," I try, but the command doesn't apply to soakings.
If you go
Rates at the Four Seasons Tented Camp Golden Triangle start at $2,800 a night based on double occupancy and include all meals (with house alcohol), as well as elephant training, one spa treatment per person, Golden Triangle excursion and transfers to and from Chiang Rai airport. Two-, three- and four-night packages are available.
Most guests fly into Chiang Rai and take advantage of one of the resort's private transfers. It's a 75-minute drive from the airport to the boat dock and then a 10-minute ride upriver. Helicopter transfers from the Four Seasons Chiang Mai are also available.
The writer was a guest of Four Seasons Hotels.