Golden Triangle elephant experience

BY KYLIE DAVIS

I can see Burma lying in my lush king sized bed. Soaking in the bath, there's a glimpse of Laos. From the balcony, I get the full steamy effect of the Golden Triangle complete with noises and the dense perfume of the jungle, and to cap it all off, at the top of a nearby hill, we enjoy a cocktail hour on a bamboo viewing platform overlooking the full majesty of the three sovereign states at sunset.

And then come the elephants.

While some resorts boast kids clubs, day spas or water sports, multiple restaurant dining or pool areas that resemble theme parks, Anantara Golden Triangle Resort on the northern most reach of Thailand and beyond even Chiang Rai, combines luxury with a conservation program for elephants and their traditional Thai owners, called Mahouts.

I have never enjoyed a mojito with a jumbo before. It turns out to be quite an adventure as the elephants are attracted to the sugar in the alcohol, so it doesn't pay to stand close to them with a drink in one hand.

They're also attracted to our canapés, so the mahouts distract them with bananas while we polish off our snacks and line up to be introduced.

There are 28 elephants at Anantara, the result of a four year program to rescue "street elephants" from Bangkok. In that chaotic and mad city, impoverished and displaced mahouts try and make a living selling elephant rides to tourists. The sights and noises of the city are distressing to the creatures, who despite their size, have extremely sensitive hearing and require "down time" away from lights and noise to stay healthy.

"Elephant hire" in the city also encourages baby elephants to be separated from their mothers well before natural weaning age which creates problems for them later in life.

The 160 hectare luxury hotel property now boasts eight elephants who work with their mahouts in the training camp, while a further 22 elephants are cared for courtesy of money raised through elephant camp and guest donations to the Golden Triangle Asian Elephant Foundation that runs from the property. Anantara pays for the fodder, veterinary care, all sundry expenses and the mahout wages.

Although the resort has reached its quota of elephants, the program coordinator, John Roberts is keen to rescue more, encouraging other elephant rescue programs to adopt their approach of keeping mahouts and elephants together.

"The mahouts and the elephants have a traditional, and in the eyes of the mahouts, a spiritual connection," Roberts says.

"With our approach, we get the mahouts off the streets as well - and that's essential if we don't want to put another elephant in danger because if we take an elephant away from a mahout, often they just go and buy another one.

"Our approach gives the mahouts a chance to maintain that bond between themselves and the elephants."

In many cases the elephants are raised as part of the mahout family. Keeping mahout and elephant together provides stability for the elephant in a changing world and changing scenery. Even a street elephant returning to the jungle can still be dependent on their mahouts, particularly those who have spent so long on the streets that the forest feels an unnatural environment to them.

Anantara has created a traditional elephant camp with everyone living in close quarters with 63 mahouts and wives. A school has been created for the children, and the wives, after complaining bitterly that they were bored while their husbands were off doing the elephant thing, have now established traditional handicraft industries, selling their beautifully crafted goods to hotel guests.

For all its luxury and elegance, the elephants give Anantara a sense of connectedness and lack of pretension that in any other setting would probably seem incongruous. For all the poshness of the idea of top shelf cocktails at sunset for example, is the reality that you need sensible shoes, a liberal dose of insect repellent and a handy towel to wipe off elephant snot. And yep, those long trunks create quite a lot of that.

Elephants are also not terribly fussy about where they put their trunks. When together, they use it to sniff out each others scent glands which are in all sorts of locations not generally discussed in elegant company. Combine the snot, the scent and the mud of the Thai jungle and should a trunk lob over your shoulder in search of mojito mint, you find yourself with some heavy explaining to do when you next see your dry cleaner - if you're silly enough to wear dry clean only in the jungle.

But in a landscape of lush humidity and smiling Thai friendliness, the combination seems the most natural thing in the world. Huge piles of dung are swept up cheerfully and used to fertilise the gloriously lush flowerbeds, and when the elephants come up to the hotel, staff and visitors all rush out to look and smile and wave to them. Elephants just have that impact on people.

And so the following day, going on a mahout training half-day, it seems fairly normal that heading down to the elephant camp, we're required to trek through serious mud churned up by the creatures. We pick a path through a stinking bog that in parts is thigh deep and all thoughts are not that this does not fit with the idea of six star luxury, but with the excitement of the challenge ahead. (and wondering how we will go with quarantine upon re-entry to Australia.

"Have you been to any farmlands or rural locations during your stay?" "Ah yes, officer, I've trekked through elephant mud and dung. Would you like to see my shoes?") My elephant is called Pepsi. He is a six-year-old male, with a younger mahout and he is well named being a dark colour and with a bubble of silly fringe. Pepsi bends his leg and offers me a double leg up. I put my right foot on his toe, grab his ear as instructed, then step up to his knee. He lifts his leg higher to help me clamber aboard. It is not the most graceful effort but it works.

I take Pepsi for a spin around the camp trying to remember to kick him behind the ears to steer as I've been told. But I've nothing to hold onto and am told to put my hands on his head which is huge. My thighs grip his neck in a way they will feel for days after, and I worry I will hurt him.

"Lady, him elephant. Very tough. You no hurt," his mahout calls out to me laughing when I tell him my concerns.

We next head for an elephant steering course which involves chicane like turns through obstacles and there is a road block of elephants ahead. I have a small panic, desperately trying to remember the Thai word for stop. Happily my mahout is on the lookout.

The last lesson for the day is dismounting. Pepsi dips down and I slide off over his head like a giant slippery dip. He raises his trunk and bows upon being thanked for his time and care. I decline the opportunity to take Pepsi for a bath which is silly because he finds the treacherous path back through the bog easier than me. But I watch him relishing in his scrub and squirting his mahout.

That night, I use my gorgeous, swimming pool-sized bathtub to hose off my shoes. Later, I sink under vetiver and ginger scented bubbles for more than an hour, but faint streaks of elephant mud remain stubbornly stuck to my legs for days - my tattoo of six star luxury at the tip of the Golden Triangle.

FACTBOX

Anantara Resort
Golden Triangle, Thailand 229 Moo 1 Chiang Saen Chiang Rai, Thailand www.anantara.com
Elephant camp information A three day, four night mahout training experience package costs THB 10,850 ($AUD 353) per night for singles or THB 13,300 ($AUD 432) per night for doubles. Includes accommodation and breakfast, plus tickets to the Hall of Opium Museum. Optional breakout
12 Rules for New Mahouts
1. You must love your elephant.
2. Do not tease your elephant with food.
3. Do not creep up behind your elephant.
4. Touch your elephant a lot but do not hug the turnk.
5. Never trust your elephant completely.
6. Never climb underneath your elephant's belly, neck or trunk without the mahout's permission.
7. Even if you are nervous on hills, don't try to climb or jump off when you are moving.
8. Avoid sudden movements and loud noises close to your elephant.
9. Elephants cannot see behind themselves. When she walks sideways she's just checking anything coming up behind.
10. Talk to your elephant, let it know you are there.
11. In the water, stay away from the legs and the trunk - if you fall off in deep water, swim away from your elephant.
12. Never approach an elephant you don't know without the mahout's permission.

* The writer was a guest of the Tourism Authority of Thailand.

- © Fairfax NZ News