The elephant was on a mission. I saw her pause just once in 10 minutes as she unfurled her trunk to grab corn cobs from the hands of a mahout, hoarded them in its kink and then shovelled them into her mouth.
Mae Nat, aged 40, is having a health check at the Mekong Elephant Park in Laos. It seems more elephant spa than medical clinic to me, though.
With the help of a large wooden support structure, her mahout checks her feet one by one, scratches behind her mottled pink and grey ears, squirts her with water, and sprinkles dust on her back for protection against insects and the sun.
Elephant spa
I’m visiting this Asian elephant sanctuary as part of a river cruise on the upper Mekong. Our boat, Anouvong, has stopped in Pakbeng, halfway between the Laos – Thailand border and our destination Luang Prabang, the city of golden temples in northern Laos.
Before Mae Nat’s spa treatment, we watch a trio of the sanctuary’s elephants walk towards their jungle bath. Mae Nat, rescued from a Japanese circus; her niece Mae Nin, rescued from the Lao logging industry; and her great niece Mae Ping, whose mother was rescued from the logging industry, were all walking towards a deep pool of water. Still finding her feet and mucking about is Mae Ping’s daughter, 13-month-old Boua. It’s such a privilege, I think, to come close to Elephas Maximus and to coo over an elephant calf. This northern forested region of Laos has always been a cradle for Lao elephants, but they now face a precarious future. Laos, the fabled ‘Land of a Million Elephants’ is long gone. Just 300 of these endangered creatures live in the wild; 500 remain in captivity.
Luxury on the Mekong
Our journey continued through this remote region, devoid of large boats, big cities and urban noise. I’d boarded Anouvong at the Laos border of Huay Xai, two hours’ drive from Chiang Rai in northern Thailand. Over four days I’d cruise with English, American, Russian and Canadian passengers 300km downstream to Luang Prabang. Some cruise journeys continue to Vientiane, water level permitting.
Anouvong is the first luxury cruise ship on the upper Mekong. Named after the last king of Vientiane, who met a sorry end in Bangkok in 1829 but is a national hero in Laos, it’s fit for royalty.
The teak-floored lounge is decorated in wooden furniture, silk cushions and marble-topped tables. Decoration includes an opium pipe and elephant opium weights – a nod to Laos’ history of production of the drug made from poppy seed sap.
It’s here we’d sip drinks and chat, working our way through the bar’s craft cocktails. Below, our 10 rooms – reached by a carpeted corridor – is lined with beautiful photography, ethnic minority jewellery, objets d’art, and Lao silk weavings.
My signature suite, Nam Khan, one of two on the boat, is huge and I’m very impressed. I have my own private balcony, a large bathroom with double sinks, spacious walk-in shower and hot tub. My elegant bed is spread with a Lao silk runner crafted by the country’s premier silk weaving workshop, which has fulfilled commissions for global fashion houses.
Above, my ceiling is stencilled in gold circular patterns. Behind my bed is a ceramic mosaic montage that echoes a mosaic scene found at Luang Prabang’s Temple of the Golden City, where once the monarchs of Laos were crowned.
Lao elephants are depicted in the images, too – they were once symbols of an ancient Lao kingdom. At the heart of this kingdom was Luang Prabang.
From my bed I look through a floor-to-ceiling window to the world outside. White buffalos mooch about the sandy riverbanks, and steep slopes with green jungle plummet towards the water, the colour of milky tea. Limestone peaks, darkly forested hills and mountains are the backdrop to my journey. It’s quiet up here save for the occasional local puttering about in a long boat or criss-crossing the river for market, and children splashing about next to their villages at dusk.
Welcome blessing
On our first afternoon, our guide Khan Keo leads us ashore. At Khon Tuen village we’re welcomed by locals of the Tai Lue ethnic minority. Some 126,000 live in northern Laos. In the village, under the shade of papaya and tamarind trees, they dry chilli in the sun, prepare fish for supper, and grow peanuts on the riverbank.
We sit cross-legged in in a village home, in front of a shaman, for a baci, a welcome ceremony rooted in a belief in the spirit world. Before the shaman is a tray of votive marigold flowers, banana cones and candles.
He asks for our spirits to return to our souls, and their return is acknowledged when locals tie white cotton bracelets around our wrists.