Much to STC’s delight, we found some Heffalumps in Vang Vieng.
Whilst watching a herd of water buffalo loll about in the river, which
we thought was pretty impressive in itself, we spied 2 even bigger grey
lumps further up the banks.
Just for second, we
thought they might be wild and stood transfixed at the amazing things
that Laos keeps throwing up. On closer inspection however, they were
chained to a large pole at the bottom of the Riverside Cafe. We rushed
over for some lunch and a good look and before we knew it were booking
tickets. So… not wild, but rideable!
I wanted to ride bare back on their tough skin, holding onto
their ears for balance and feel their tough, prickly hairs like a
savage three day growth dig into my thighs. It’s never as romantic as
you imagine though and we climbed onto a wooden saddle, abstracted from
the sensory overload of raw elephant save for our bare feet that rested
between his shoulder blades.
The two elephants set off up the
river towards a limestone cave, occaisonally heading towards the banks
to rip off giant snoutfuls of grasses and shrubs. At that moment, I
realised that keeping one at home in the garden wasn’t a practical
thought. A hungy elephant would mean the immediate destruction of
anything carefully planted within reach of his trunk. The handler
didn’t try and divert the cheeky elephants – it’s probably the easiest
way to keep up with their equally enormous appetites.
Most of
the time, the elephants waded in no more than a few feet of water as
they plodded up stream, although things got exciting when it reached
their tummy and eventually came up over their mouths. Without breaking
stride, their trunks appeared in an upwards curl to create a snorkel
for them to breathe, snort and splash water about.
At this
point, I looked over at the other elephant and watched him poop
casually. Two huge bowling balls of green dung emerged from his wrinkly
arse which was level with the water line and floated away. How handy
for the elephant that he can shit and wash his arse at the same time.
I tried not to think about the Nam song river as a bidet for Heffalumps when I went for a swim later.
