Tag Archives: “The Sarojin”


Truth and Spies: Tongue-loosening cocktails at The Stafford London

Eric Rychnausky, head mixologist at The Stafford London, divulges his secrets for a trio of truth serums created especially for the Spring.

Eric Rychnausky showcases three new cocktails in the wine cellar of The Stafford Hotel.

Eric Rychnausky in the wine cellar of The Stafford London.

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One Sweet Ride: Forget flat tires. Just hold onto your (Boa) Thong.  

My mahout, Leim

My mahout, Leim, with Boa-Thong

Phang Nga, Thailand–How do you mount an elephant? It is not, as you might imagine, a conundrum I’ve often considered, but as I survey the vast acreage of a 6,500 pound female at an elephant camp in Phang Nga, I realize this is not going to be a walk in the park.

In fact, it’s supposed to be 90 minute-long ramble along a dirt and gravel road threading through a rubber plantation a few miles inland from Thailand’s famous golden beaches.

A mahout—as the elephant guides are known—makes it look easy, of course.

How do you mount an elephant? Well, you can wine her and dine her and take her to a movie--or skip the foreplay and just scamper up one of these wooden structures to hop in her basket. (Not a euphemism).

How do you mount an elephant? Well, you can wine her and dine her and take her to a movie–or skip the courtship and simply scamper up one of these wooden structures to hop in her basket.

Using the animal’s bended knee as a step, he’ll swing himself up, Tarzan-like, with a rope. Fortunately for greenhorns like myself, Sairung Elephant Camp—where half a dozen mahouts squat in the shade of primitive huts, their laundry flapping damply in the humid breeze–provides a wooden platform the approximate height of the elephant, allowing you to step right onto the back of your ride.

My husband, Scott, sensibly ensconces himself on a bench strapped upon the back of our lumbering beast, Boa-Thong (which I believe is Thai for “tiny underwear”), and while it would easily accommodate two, I’ve decided I want the “real” experience, riding on Boa-Thong’s neck.

Gingerly, I scoot forward until I’m planted just behind her ears—and instantly regret it. (more…)