pied hornbills, their enormous yellow, banana-
shaped beaks flashing against the jungle
greenery. There are monkeys, too — fluffy,
white pileated gibbons with black tummies
and Zoro-like masks, fuzzy white-handed
gibbons and a third, hybrid species of the two,
only found in Khao Yai — not to mention civet
cats, flying lemurs, porcupines and a host
of other rare indigenous animals. Over the
course of a day and night, Khun Bok leads me
to most of them.
To protect Khao Yai National Park’s 83 7sq
miles of prehistoric forest, visitors can only
enter accompanied by a ranger — which is
why, for my hike, I’ve been teamed up with
Khun Bok, a cheerful 5ft-nothing local woman
who’s been guiding visitors, tracking animals,
preventing fires and catching poachers here for
over 20 years. “We catch a few poachers a week,”
she says. “They mostly come for the trees.”
Pulling a machete from her belt, Khun
Bok hacks into the dead stump of what was
once an 80ft eaglewood tree to let me smell
the bark; its highly prized resin has a rich,
woody, amber-like aroma and is used in
the production of perfumes, incense and
traditional Asian medicines. As one of the
world’s most expensive commodities — top-
grade eaglewood costs north of £80, 000 per
kilo — the illegal trade is pushing the critically
endangered species to the brink of extinction.
I couldn’t be more in awe of Khun Bok,
working on the frontline, trying to save it.
Also on the endangered list are wild Asian
elephants, which we go in search of that
evening. As we drive down bumpy tracks,
Khun Bok spots, with apex predator-like sight,
sambar deer, barking deer, dhole (a type of
fox-dog-hyena), a slow loris, a flying lemur and
a trio of Malayan porcupines, which waddle
down the road with their plump bottoms
swaying like the bustles of Victorian ladies.“I see a herd pass by here most nights,” says
Khun Bok, as we park our 4 x4 at the side of
road and kill the engine, the warm night air
laced with expectation. Just moments later,
with a full moon illuminating the thick clouds
overhead, and with the treeline a crisp, black
cut-out, half a dozen elephants plod out of the
forest and into the inky foreground. The group
of females has a four-month-old baby in tow,
one of three elephants born in the park over the
past year. It’s a hopeful scene, one that lingers
in my mind long after I’ve left the country.THE ANCIENT CAPITAL
On our way back to Bangkok, Khun Pat and I
detour to Ayutthaya, the former capital of the
ancient Kingdom of Siam, which flourished
between the 14th and 18th centuries. It’s
another of the capital’s up-and-coming
satellite destinations: mixed in with the
UNESCO-protected sprawl of ancient palaces
and temples is a modern town of the same
name, attracting the great and good of
Bangkok and beyond for weekends away with
its glut of award-winning restaurants and slew
of boutique hotel openings.
One such retreat is Sala Bang Pa-In, a resort
in the countryside, just east of the ancient
city. Its stilted wooden villas, with peaked
roofs and rickety-looking piers, line a bank of
a scenic artery of the Chao Phraya River. This
will be my base as I explore the historic area.
It strikes me that the ancestors of the locals
now working in the hotel might once have
served in the court of the royal family, who’d
decamp to the nearby Summer Palace — once
used by Thai kings — a brief long-tail boat ride
upriver from the hotel.
“This palace was built in 16 30, long before
Bangkok even existed, but it was abandoned
after Ayutthaya was pillaged by the Burmese
in 176 7,” Khun Pat yells at me, as our motorboatClockwise from top left: Viewpoint
overlooking the lush green hills of Khao
Yai; sisters Mimi and Niki Lohitnavy,
co-owners of GranMonte Vineyard and
Winery estate; a family of endangered
IMAGE:Asian elephants, Khao Yai