Trunk call

Climbing onto a bare-backed elephant is the easy bit. Grab an ear in one hand and a fistful of flesh in the other, step on the animal's foot and thigh and throw yourself across its back, which seems larger than most Hong Kong apartments. Staying on is more difficult.

Sitting between shoulder blades that roll like a gentle swell, it feels, at first, like trying to balance on a ball - a 3-metre-high, 3-tonne ball. Slipping from side to side, with your knees tucked behind the elephant's ears, your groin stretches like a rubber band and your hips feel on the verge of dislocating. Even worse is the animal's wiry hair, poking into places no elephant hair rightly should.

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