Julie Miller saddles up and tries the coolest sport in the world – Elephant Polo in Thailand.

It only took seven minutes for me to become addicted to elephant polo – one chukka of pachyderm madness that would forever change my life. From the moment I slid from a bamboo tower onto a makeshift saddle and spreadeagled my legs obscenely across my friendly jumbo’s back, I was hooked; it was simply the most ridiculous, craziest and coolest thing I had ever attempted.

I’m no sportsperson, mind; but it’s amazing how the competitive spirit took hold as I flailed wildly at the little white ball, my trusty steed plodding into the enormous fray, two-metre-long bamboo mallets clashing amid a logjam of grey wrinkly flesh…

To the casual observer, this so-called sport, not surprisingly devised over cocktails by two drunken colonials, is the slowest, stupidest game on the planet. But being on the back of an elephant, challenging body and mind with a task requiring concentration, hand-eye coordination, gumption and balls (of the testosterone-creating variety) is up there with the all time great adrenaline-pumping thrills.

One saved goal, a few pathetic hits and bucketloads of sweat later, I retire to a thatched shelter to cool off with a cleansing Pimms, chuffed with my success and newfound addiction. And now the real fun begins – conversing with my fellow elephant polo aficionados, an eclectic mix of professional horse polo players, B-grade celebrities, English toffs, ballerinas and adventurers. Every one of them is nuts, plain and simple, with the common trait of not taking life too seriously. Because let’s face it, when your main claim to fame is world elephant polo champion, you need a sense of humour.

Held in the lush Golden Triangle region of northern Thailand, the annual Kings Cup Elephant Polo tournament is not only an excuse for a jolly good party, but it’s also a notable charity event. This is the serious side of the sport – raising awareness and funds to support various elephant projects. In 2007, the money raised by the event and a charity auction went towards buying an elephant ambulance; while in 2009, the money was used to rescue five street elephants, retraining them to work with autistic children in a ground-breaking therapy program.

While the idea of chasing a little white ball around a paddock is not every pachyderm’s idea of fun (though having said that, many of them love it, trumpeting with glee, trunks held high as they charge down the pitch), the two weeks these street eles spend at the tournament are in effect a working holiday, a world apart from their usual life plodding the streets of Bangkok, begging for tourist dollars.

This is the real aim of the event – to showcase a better life for the elephant’s mahout owners, encouraging them to give up their life on the streets for a more worthwhile, sustainable and happier livelihood such as working in the tourist industry.

It’s a win win for the elephants, their owners … and for happy players like me. Tally-ho! (or whatever polo players say)…

WHEN: The Kings Cup Elephant Polo is held every year in March. In 2010, it will be held from March 22—29.

WHERE: The event is hosted by the Anantara Golden Triangle near Chiang Rai in northern Thailand.

FURTHER INFORMATION: www.anantaraelephantpolo.com

Julie Miller discovers the sheer horror of posing for tourist photographs next to a row of oversized wooden phalluses.

Warning – if you are going to pose for a photograph with large wooden phalluses, be careful how you shift your weight. One wrong move and it can all go horribly wrong, as my girlfriend discovered one morning in the Princess Cave on Phranang Beach in Krabi, southern Thailand.

Within seconds, she was on her knees as the oversized penises decorating the cave went a-tumbling; one the size of a tree trunk was particularly hard to haul back into place, a photo opportunity that must rank as one of the most hilarious of all time.

Located under a limestone overhang at the end of a gorgeous, palm-lined stretch of sand, this cave is actually a place of worship, the carved phalluses placed by local fishermen who believe the offerings will appease the Princess spirit who dwells within, thereby helping their catch.

Phranang Beach is one of three beaches on this peninsula not far from Krabi, which is accessible only by boat. Long a secret of backpackers and rock climbers, who flock to some of the most challenging cliffs in the world, Railay Beach (as the isthmus is known) is arguably one of the prettiest places in the world, with longtail boats bobbing on calm emerald waters flanked by looming cliffs clad in dense rainforest. Sandy beaches lure sunworshippers and soccer players; while beachside bars and cafes are an essential part of the relaxed Railay lifestyle.

Rustic bungalows are still the predominant choice of accommodation on the peninsula, but these days life at Railay isn’t cheap, with many of the original establishments beloved by backpackers horrendously overpriced. Instead seek out bargains at newer places; we found a great deal at a new spa property called Bhu Nga Thani with an opening special; while the divine Rayavadee resort occupying prime real estate at the tip of the peninsula is well worth the splurge.

Full details: Rayavadee

by Julie Miller

It only took seven minutes for me to become addicted to elephant polo – one chukka of pachyderm madness that would forever change my life. From the moment I slid from a bamboo tower onto a makeshift saddle, legs akimbo across my friendly jumbo’s back, I was hooked; it was simply the most ridiculous, craziest and coolest thing I had ever attempted.

I’m no sportsperson, mind, but it’s amazing how the competitive spirit took hold as I flailed wildly at the little white ball; my trusty steed plodding into the enormous fray, two-metre-long bamboo mallets clashing amid a logjam of grey wrinkly flesh.

To the casual observer, this so-called sport, not surprisingly devised over cocktails by two drunken colonials, is the slowest, stupidest game on the planet. But being on the back of an elephant, challenging body and mind with a task requiring concentration, hand-eye coordination, gumption and balls (of the testosterone-creating variety) is up there with the all-time great adrenaline-pumping thrills.

One saved goal, a few pathetic hits and bucket-loads of sweat later, I retire to a thatched shelter to cool off with a cleansing Pimms, chuffed with my success and newfound addiction. And now the real fun begins – conversing with my fellow elephant polo aficionados, an eclectic mix of professional horse polo players, B-grade celebrities, English toffs, ballerinas and adventurers. Every one of them is bonkers, plain and simple, with the common trait of not taking life too seriously. Because let’s face it, when your main claim to fame is world elephant polo champion, you need a sense of humour.

Held in the lush Golden Triangle region of northern Thailand, the annual Kings Cup Elephant Polo tournament is not only an excuse for a jolly good party, but it’s also a notable charity event. This is the serious side of the sport – raising awareness and funds to support various elephant projects. In 2007, the funds raised by both the polo event and a charity auction went towards buying an elephant ambulance; while in 2009, the money was used to rescue five street elephants, retraining them to work with autistic children in a ground-breaking therapy program.

While the idea of chasing a little white ball around a paddock is not every pachyderm’s idea of fun (though having said that, many of them love it, trumpeting with glee, trunks held high as they charge down the pitch), the two weeks these elephants spend at the tournament are in effect a working holiday, a world apart from their usual life plodding the streets of Bangkok, begging for tourist dollars.

This is the real aim of the event – to showcase a better life for the elephant’s mahout owners, encouraging them to give up their life on the streets for a more worthwhile, sustainable and happier livelihood such as working in the tourist industry.

It’s a win-win for the elephants, their owners … and for happy players, like me. Tally-ho! (or whatever polo players say)…

WHEN: The Kings Cup Elephant Polo is held every year in March. In 2010, it will be held from March 22-29.

WHERE: The event is hosted by the Anantara Golden Triangle near Chiang Rai in northern Thailand.

FURTHER INFORMATION: www.anantaraelephantpolo.com

Now this is ridiculous. A secret Thai island with chalets for well under ten pounds a night? Beautiful quiet beaches? Expect body scrubs, pools, cooking classes and diving. The yoga is sensational, we hear. It’s called The Sanctuary and there is a wellness centre too, with fasting detoxes. For more information visit thesanctuarythailand.

It’s not expensive to fly there from Bangkok but only pack the basics – in most cases you’re flying with around a 15kg allowance! For more information visit http://www.bangkokair.com

Rumored to be controlled by the underworld, the Samui taxis don’t want to take you anywhere unless they leave the meter off and charge at least 300B – on Bangkok rates you’d be circling the island enough times to wear a rut. Thus, ensure a good start by using your hotel’s “limousine” service to get in from the airport – which may be a minibus but it will probably cost the same.

Four-wheel drives loop the road around the island until after midnight. Their destinations are marked on the windscreen and you sit on a bench in the back. Ask the price before you get in. Should be 50-100B each for most trips – If they try it on smile, wave and wait for next one.

The oddity of island life is that everyone assumes you know where things are. There are plenty of free maps but they are of questionable value. Disregard the dyslexic street numbering on Chaweng Beach Road. Look out for the landmarks, ask the locals, and remember because it’s an island you can’t get lost!

You can stay at the main town Chewang  but it’s more chill-worthy to stay on one of the beaches.

For a beachy break at Big Buddha Beach (Bangruk) book  Punnpreeda Resort  (around 3000+B)
www.punnpreeda.com

Closer to the mayhem in Chewang take a beach front bungalow on King’s Resort (around 2500B)
www.kings-garden-resort.com .

The Page restaurant in The Library has Thai and Western, food on the beachfront, under the trees.. (Mains 200-800B). Sculptures referencing some very rude rock formations lying on the bottom end of Lamia beach indicate the toilets. If you want to stay at The Library visit  www.thelibrary.name   (Rooms 10000- 16000B)

The Sila Evanson Hideaway restaurant, at the northern-most point of the island, is built on a number of wooden levels going down the cliff face. Go for sundowners and dinner and enjoy the vista. It’s priced like a glam restaurant at home but well worth it. Try calling them to pick you and take you home in their BMW – it may be the same price as a taxi. Visit www.sixsenses.com/hideaway-samui/dining.php

Koh Samui is spa Mecca but it’s not a bargain so make sure you get a real experience. Tamarind Springs near Lamai beach is outdoors in a groovy bush land setting. After treatments the new you can eat at their café or cross the main road to Spa Sumui for some creative organics in a Gilligan’s Island setting.
Treatments are around  2000B to 5000B. Visit www.tamarindsprings.com

Fancy a drink? The Ruby Red Lounge is a cool quiet little pad upstairs and opposite the Central resort on Chewang Beach Road. It’s meant for the boys but welcomes everyone. Have a sundowner here but the sauna downstairs is definitely not for chicks!

Finally, remember you too can hang with the backpackers. Ark Bar on north Chewang Beach Road has bed seating on the beach, unobtrusive hits playing from  last century and a big big screen for UK football fans. Cheap food from Chops to Tom Yum Gai is on offer and the local kids will beat you at Connect 4.

Here’s a tip – Did you know that Koh Samui has more publications per head of population than most places in Asia?  Every hotel, spa, bar you’ll find a bunch of new Samui mags you haven’t seen before.  There are plenty to read at either of the Starbucks at Chewang Beach Road.

My recommendations on this particular Samui trip -

Stay:
www.sawadee.com/hotels/samui.html
Eat::
www.samuidiningguide.com/
Revive:
www.samuispaguide.com/

Who was it that said you could never be too thin or too spiritual? Whoever it was must have read my mind.

I was in need of a break from city life. I was tired, stressed, a little down and very, very toxic. I needed a detox or a holiday – or both.

So I turned to my old friend, Google. I told him I wanted to ‘fast’ (bring on that weight loss), do ‘daily yoga’ (toned and Zen, please), have a ‘pool’ (a tan would be nice), and be in an ‘exotic destination.’

He gave me a list of worthy options, but as we all know, life is about location, location, location. So I chose Thailand. A ten-day detox on the island of Phuket? Perfect.

The website seemed to answer all my questions:

• Are you at a crossroads looking for a new direction? “Oh yes.”
• Do you have a hunch that your life could be better than it is? “Too bloody right.”
• Do you want to stay young, live longer and be happier? “Of course, although not totally sure about getting old.”
• Would you like to live life to its fullest and enhance performance in your work? “It would be good to cut down on coffee…”

So I called the owner. My first concern was accommodation as I was going on my own. I was assured the resort was completely safe. Then I asked if they had a pool, as I imagined there would be plenty of feeling weak and reading. He said “yes”, so I gave him my credit card details and he booked me in.

The programme I had chosen sounded completely terrifying. No eating or chewing for 10 whole days. No sugar at all. Not even any juice. All I would ingest was water and supplements, and herbs to help with the cleansing process. Oh, and there would be DIY colonic irrigations. The only easy part seemed to be the daily yoga.

However, I was assured that I would be a whole new person after just 10 days, having cleansed myself of all my physical and emotional toxins. And that sounded good to me…

As my plane touched down, to say that I was terrified is actually an understatement. I was on my own, I was already hungry at the thought of not eating, and I had never, ever had anything – let alone a pipe-full of water – up my bottom. Not surprisingly, I arrived, shaking, at the resort. The owner greeted me with a smile and handed me a bill.

‘What’s this for?’ I asked.

‘The deposit’.

‘But I gave you my credit card,’ I said.

‘We don’t take cards.’

Good start. As he drove me the bank, I pondered why he took my card numbers in the first place. When we returned, I was taken to my room, which was at the end of a dusty track far away from the main resort. When I asked about the pool, I was told it was a ten-minute drive away in another hotel.

I was about to tell him I didn’t feel entirely safe on my own in a hut by a main road, but then I remembered I’d just given the man my money. I was beginning to feel a little un-Zen.

Not so fast…

The fast began the following day. I was awoken at seven in order to take my herbs. The yoga began at 7.30. This was followed by a group discussion. There were about five others in the group and they all looked as scared as me. The guy who ran the place seemed keen to get them over with as soon as possible, but they – and the look on the others’ faces – continued throughout the 10 days.

Soon it was time for my first colonic. We were taken to a cubicle where there was a bucket of water with a tube coming down from it. Below that was a colonic board, with one side propped up on a stool and the other on the loo. Not exactly hi- tech. In fact, it looked like something made on Blue Peter.

I’ll spare you the details, but it actually wasn’t as bad as I thought. In fact, in some ways, it was the least painful part of the trip.

For instance, the five-minute walk from my ‘villa’ to the resort involved being chased by dozens of angry chickens and barked at by various vicious-looking dogs.

Several times a day I would make a run for it while the local children laughed themselves silly. I felt like I was starring in Attack of the Thai Killer Chickens. By the time I got to my yoga class or whatever, I was usually tense, sweaty and neurotic.

Another less than enjoyable aspect of the stay was the actual programme. The herbs were just about bearable, but the Psyllium and clay (yes I drank clay) were vile and made me gag three times a day. (The Psyllium was a cleanser and the clay was supposed to expand inside you and attract toxins.)

Although I didn’t miss food as much as I thought I would, I did begin to feel slightly weak and more than a little tetchy.

The owner tried to help by presenting me with a copy of ‘Supersize Me‘ on DVD. I’m not normally a huge fan of junk food, but after watching it with only a glass of clay for company, I began to fantasise about cheeseburgers and fries. I don’t think this was the reaction he was going for.

Fortunately, the weather was glorious. But the thought of hiring a scooter and risking life and limb to drive all the way to someone else’s pool was a bit much in my weakened state. And although my villa had a terrace, it was on a main road which wasn’t exactly private.

The high point of the trip was – I have to say – one blissful day of shopping. One of the other fasters took me on the back of his scooter to see some of Phuket. We had to bring our Psyllium and clay with us, but it really is a beautiful island.

The beaches are incredible and the views from some of the vantage points are breathtaking. It was post-Tsunami (which is one of the reasons I’d chosen Phuket) and it’s amazing to see how rapidly they have re-built the island. And the shopping was a great distraction, even if the smell of food around us was tauntingly evil…

With a few days to go on my holiday, I suddenly became ill with terrible heartburn. I asked the owner what he thought was going on, but he just suggested I go to a doctor. Given that fasting is supposed to be a natural way to fix yourself, I wasn’t too impressed. So, I stuck it out; sleeping lots and lying in my air-conditioned room watching DVDs.

When the final day dawned, I couldn’t have been happier. In fact, I was smiling like an idiot. I’m afraid to say, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. As I said goodbye to the owner I had to query the bill, as I had been charged for several treatments I had never received. I could have flown home by myself – without a plane.

When I returned to my beloved city, I vowed never to leave it again.

So would I recommend a detox break in Thailand?