When people ask me about my favorite place in the world, they often expect a pristine beach or an ancient city. But for me, it’s somewhere entirely different — a sanctuary tucked away in the rolling hills of Northern Thailand. Elephant Nature Park (ENP), in Chiang Mai Province, holds my heart in a way few places ever could.

I first stumbled upon Elephant Nature Park back in the early 2000s, when it was just getting started. Fast forward a decade or so, after many painful lessons about so-called “sanctuaries” that still allowed riding, bathing, and photo ops, I found myself rediscovering ENP right before the pandemic hit. Between 2011 and 2018, I can’t tell you how many times I booked what was promised to be an “ethical” elephant experience for my groups, only to arrive and find the same old exploitation under a shinier label – or hidden in the back of the venue. It was exhausting and heartbreaking.

Meeting Lek for the first time in 2022

Things changed for me at a place called Chiang Chill, one of the first truly no-touch, observation-only elephant experiences I visited. It was there, during a quiet lunch, that I met a Thai woman who explained what was really happening in the elephant tourism industry. She spoke about Lek Chailert — a name that would soon become so important to me — and her incredible mission to educate elephant owners and transform their sanctuaries into safe havens. This was my entry point into Lek’s world and the beginning of my commitment to real advocacy.

With my first group of “elephant ambassadors”

Things changed for me at a place called Chiang Chill, one of the first truly no-touch, observation-only elephant experiences I visited. It was there, during a quiet lunch, that I met a Thai woman who explained what was really happening in the elephant tourism industry. She spoke about Lek Chailert — a name that would soon become so important to me — and her incredible mission to educate elephant owners and transform their sanctuaries into safe havens. This was my entry point into Lek’s world and the beginning of my commitment to real advocacy.

When I finally visited ENP again, iI immediately felt drawn in to the cause. Our guide, Oh, listened as I shared my plans of bringing a group there, and she asked, “Would you like to meet Lek?” Minutes later, Lek arrived with a cart full of puppies she’d just rescued from an alligator farm. That’s Lek— constantly reducing animals in perrill. ENP isn’t just an elephant sanctuary; it’s a sanctuary for hundreds of rescued animals: dogs, cats, buffalo, pigs, and more. It’s heaven on earth for animals who have finally found freedom.

Let’s do this!

I got to see Lek again at a fundraiser in Seattle later that year, where I watched the powerful film Elephant Mother and soaked up every bit of wisdom she shared. Every time I hear her speak, I learn something new about how to be a better advocate.

We talked about my trips and tours, and she suggested something that changed everything: “Why don’t you bring your group for an overnight experience?” Then she added, “And why don’t you come volunteer for a week?” By that night, I was emailing my travel partner, reworking itineraries, and pitching an overnight “Elephant Ambassador Program” to my guests. Half the group said yes — a decision that would ripple out in beautiful ways none of us could have imagined. 

Lek photographing Darrick with Kamla’s Herd

By February 2024, we were back at ENP — half of the group staying overnight, half departing after the day visit. That night, we had the rare privilege of hearing Lek give her weekly talk to the volunteers. It felt like the universe kept opening the right doors at just the right time. We also got to meet Darrick, Lek’s husband and quiet force behind so much of the park’s success, along with the staff — the heartbeat of the entire operation. One of my travelers in particular, Kim, has become a huge fundraiser and advocate herself.

In January 2025, I returned alone for something I’d dreamed of for years: a full week as a volunteer at Elephant Nature Park. The van pulled up to my hotel in Chiang Mai’s Old City, and just like that, my adventure began.

There’s something about ENP that bonds people instantly. In that van, I met Jane and Kevin from the UK (annual visitors to ENP), Sarah from the UK (who would later write a beautiful poem about her experience), and Janet and Nathalie from Canada and France — my ENP neighbors and dear friends.

Group C

When we arrived, the damage and sorrow from late 2024 flood was still fresh, but you could feel the energy of rebuilding and renewal everywhere. After settling into our newly refreshed rooms, we were assigned into three groups — I was lucky enough to land in Group C, a crew of mostly badass women and a few incredible men. Many were repeat volunteers: Saskia, Julie, an Narelle, and there was MJ and her mom, and Robin — all of whom I learned so much from.

Every morning, I’d wake up before sunrise, hearing the gentle rustle of elephants just outside my window. I’d start the day meditating to the sounds of nature waking up at ENP. My heart especially gravitated toward Grandma Somboon, an elderly elephant wrapped in a colorful quilt made by donors, placed on top of her by her mahout trying to help her stay warm through one of the coldest Januarys Northern Thailand had seen in years. Every morning, I’d visit her from a distance, watching her by the fire.

Our first work assignment was washing and sorting watermelons — and Group C found our rhythm instantly. Music blasting, laughter echoing, teamwork flowing effortlessly. Other days, we scooped elephant poop, helped prepare food, cleaned the elephant pools, dug ditches in mud, and lent a hand wherever needed. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was meaningful.

The highlights? Too many to count: meeting Onn, who knows every elephant and dog by name; hearing stories from donor/volunteer, Jamie and learning about Big Boy, a dog whose story I’ll share in another post on my Laos Sanctuary experience; Chris and his charge of countless rescued dogs. Walking the land with Darrick and Lek, on the last day, with Kamla’s herd. Getting my energy drinks from the little 6-11 shop woman (okay, technically the mahouts’ drinks, but they shared). Every moment stitched a deeper bond to this place.

GR and the banana tree cutting crew

And, of course, the elephants — Somboon, Namthip, Faa Mai, Chaba, Jenny, Raya, Medo, Pyi Mai, Bunma — and the dogs like Bella, Junior, and Munday. Their faces, their stories, stay with me every single day.

The thing about ENP is that once you’re there, surrounded by like-minded souls with a shared purpose, you realize you’ve found your people. By day one, I was already dreaming of my next week – or more – volunteering. Every volunteer I talked to said the same thing: “I just wish we could stay longer.” Where else in the world makes you feel like that?

Sound like heaven? It is! I encourage you to come with me in December. I promise it’ll be the most unforgettable week of your life.

Let’s get out there — to ENP — together.