We humans often think that we are the smartest species on this planet. But if we are watchful, there’s much that we can learn from elephants. Sadly, with their population declining due to habitat loss, there’s a danger that they’ll be extinct by the end of this century. Even more reason to absorb the lessons they have for us before it’s too late.
I got a few helpful tips while ‘Walking with Giants’ at the Anantara Golden Triangle Elephant Camp and Resort in North Thailand. Maprang, the camp manager, introduced me and a couple of ladies from London to Chokpetch (Lucky Diamond), a 5-year-old male; Beau, a 45-year-old female and the young male’s nanny; and Boonsri, at 57 one of the oldest, calmest and most respected of the 20 pachyderms that live here.
The giants were accompanied by their respective mahouts, or guardians—Jumbo, Berm and Noi—who I noticed were all kitted out in the same denim outfits that the resort had provided for us (with boots as well).
As we set off down a muddy lane, the first thing I noticed was that Boonsri, despite her huge bulk, walked with mindful tread, lowering each foot cautiously before placing her weight on it.
‘Look before you leap’ or ‘think before you act’ is the lesson for us here—something we don’t always do.
‘Look after each other’ was the next lesson. While we were chatting in the shade, a water buffalo came wandering by, led by a resort employee. Beau seemed to know its presence would disturb young Chokpetch, so she let out a loud snort to shoo the buffalo away.
Though we humans have protective tendencies, we’re often too busy taking care of ourselves to worry about others.
Finally, Chokpetch showed how liberating it can be to let go of inhibitions when he stepped into a pool at the end of our walk, disappeared for several seconds, and then came up spraying everyone with a trunk full of water. After this party trick, he reveled in the floating sensation of being in the water.
Apart from walking with elephants, I was able to sleep with them too, in an amazing ‘jungle bubble’—a transparent dome next to a field where elephants roam. Going to sleep and waking up in the company of these behemoths was an unforgettable experience.
Incidentally, for those who would like an encounter with elephants but don’t have time to travel to North Thailand, the resort offers another unique experience in the form of the ‘Elephant in the Zoom’—a virtual meeting with pachyderms while contributing to elephant welfare.
Although it was the elephants that attracted me to the resort, an unexpected highlight of my stay was eating breakfast in the sky. I almost forgot about my scrambled eggs and bacon as I gazed down from the resort’s treetop canopy at the expansive view over Thailand, Myanmar and Laos. By following the course of the Ruak and Mekong Rivers, I could spot where the three countries meet at the heart of the Golden Triangle.
The term ‘Golden Triangle’ dates to the 1970s, when the region was a wild and lawless domain of drug dealers. Curious about its notorious past, I visited the Hall of Opium, to find out.
Through a combination of dioramas, photographs and videos, the museum shows how opium is extracted from the seed pods of the poppy. It then goes on to recount the history of the plant’s medicinal and recreational uses, with a particular focus on the Opium Wars between Britain and China in the 19th century. Understandably, the underlying message of the museum concerns the devastating consequences of addiction to opium and its derivatives like morphine and heroin.
I left the museum relieved to think that due to the tireless efforts of Princess Srinagarind (1900-1995; mother of King Bhumibol, Rama lX), who was dubbed Mae Fah Luang (“Royal Mother from the Sky”) by local ethnic groups due to her habit of arriving by helicopter, opium has largely been replaced by coffee and other crops, leading to a major decline in addiction.
I had not been in the Golden Triangle for several years, and the biggest shock to me on arriving this time was to see a major building development on the Laos bank of the Mekong River. It looked as if part of Bangkok’s towering skyline had been transported to this remote jungle wilderness. Fortunately for the resort, this development is a few kilometers downstream, so doesn’t spoil the view of forested hills for the resort’s guests.
I was informed tongue-in-cheek that this was ‘Laos Vegas’, a rapidly growing complex of casinos, hotels, bars and massage parlors run by a Chinese named Wei Zhao. Zhao talked the Laos government into granting him a 99-year lease to turn 100 square kilometers of the jungle into a ‘special economic zone’. It saddened me to think that the ‘golden’ part of the triangle might simply be shifting its source of income from drugs to gambling.
After the rigors of walking and sleeping with elephants, the sorrow of the Golden Triangle’s drug-soaked past and anxiety over its profligate gambling future, I needed to relax, so I headed for the Anantara Spa. I found that the facility made maximum use of the resort’s fabulous jungle setting, and the proliferation of tropical growth outside the window lifted my spirits even before the treatment began.
From the spa menu, the Stress Release Massage seemed just the one for me, so I selected cedarwood essential oil for its calming aroma, lay face down on the massage table and let the masseuse work her magic. Due to a combination of gentle strokes and acupressure, I felt my muscles releasing tension, and I found myself emitting spontaneous grunts of pleasurable appreciation as my mind was transported to a totally tranquil place.
Walking back to my suite, I realized that the spa treatment had also somehow sharpened my vision, and I was aware of the beautiful, tiny plants beside the pathway and the harmonious nature of the resort’s design, including vibrant murals depicting traditional Northern Thai culture in the entrance courtyard.
All the resort’s buildings, I realized, blended seamlessly into the hillside, with rust-colored earth tones everywhere and clever use of Northern Thai architectural touches such as kalae, which are intricately carved, crossed beams on rooftops that echo buffalo horns.
As I was about to re-enter my room, I spotted a small sign pointing into the jungle that read ‘Forest Bathing’. I followed a narrow path down a hillside and along a trail shaded by lychee and mango trees, bamboo and many other trees that I couldn’t identify. Then as evening approached, the unmistakable whine of mosquitoes sent me scurrying to the shelter of my room.
And sadly, that was that. I hadn’t even had time to take a ride in the sidecar of a classic Royal Enfield motorbike, nor to take a cooking class, practice my Thai boxing skills or work out in the fitness center. But I didn’t worry about it too much, because I knew from the mellow mood that the resort had instilled in me that I’d be back.