A Haven For The Hunted

- Nikki Ekstein

I’m half-submerged in the Mekong River—the watery border that ­separates Laos from Thailand and Myanmar—sitting atop a big-eared, pink-spotted, 3-ton elephant named Poonlarp. Her skin looks soft from a distance, but it’s much coarser up close, covered in inch-long bristles. Her gait, which at first gives the appearance of flowing-through-honey movement, feels wobbly up this high. She’s alternately headstrong and playful. If you’ve ever walked a large, stubborn dog, you have an idea what it’s like to ride an elephant. This is the ­bucket-list item that brings people here to Anantara Golden Triangle Elephant Camp & Resort. Perched directly on top of Poonlarp’s wide shoulders, forcing my legs into a permanent straddle behind her ears, magnifies her immensity. At one point, she takes a deep drink and sprays the water gleefully, like a living fountain, out of her trunk.

It’s my second day at Golden Triangle, a 63-room honeymoon spot set among the rice paddies and tea plantations of far-north Chiang Rai province in Thailand. I flew with my sister to Bangkok from New York, then caught an hour-long connecting flight. The van that picked us up had massage chairs instead of passenger seats and a welcome basket filled with cold face towels and elephant-­shaped shortbread cookies. We arrived after sunset, in time for a late dinner of papaya salad and pad thai.

It wasn’t until 5 a.m. this morning, jet-lagged and awake on the terrace, that I first heard the soundtrack of elephant roars. It started off quietly but grew louder as the sun rose and a band of tiny-­looking animals emerged from shadows in the distance.