Monkey Buisness: Jungle Trekking to a Monkey-Infested Beach

I had met a Japanese man and an Italian woman in my hostel. They had expressed an interest in going to a place called 'Monkey Beach'. And I asked to come along. From the name alone, this beach sounds like the setting of a movie. Plus, adding to the mystique was the fact that rumor indicated that the beach was actually not just named monkey beach, but was under the strict governance of monkeys. 

Admittedly, my past relationships to the furry creatures have been a mixed bag. They've ranged from trepidation and fear to cordial and friendly. They've stolen my stuff and have also attacked me. But they've also taken cuddly pictures with me. So, a beach ruled by the critters? Fearful, but inspired, I had to see it.

Hurriedly, I grabbed my camera bag and walked out onto the busy streets of Georgetown. We caught bus 101 that would take us across the island for 4rm ($1.33). The two hour bus ride was pleasant enough, with some nice views of the ocean.

But upon arriving, we were told something that none if us had expected. Monkey beach was not just a stroll from the bus station. No, it was more akin to something from a Joseph Conrad novel. Monkey Beach was accessible by trekking deep in the Malaysian jungle. 

The three of us decided that we'd already come far enough to warrant the excursion into the jungle. If it became dark, we'd turn around.

Trekking is not something new to me. I've successfully completed the Maroon Bells Circuit, the Annapurna Circuit, and Everest Base Camp. Plus, I'd also spent some time mountaineering in the Karakoram Range in Ladakh, India.

Apparently, jungle trekking is nothing like these. After the first 100m, there was a big black object on the trail. As we approached, it suddenly jumped up. It was a giant lizard, both longer and thicker than my leg. The lizard immediately darted, with lightning speed, off the path and into the jungle. After seeing this lizard, suddenly it became clear this wasn't a deserted mountain path. This was a jungle. And jungles have stuff in them. Lots of stuff.

Cautiously, we made our way through the dense jungle on what felt like a never ending path. Signs painted on rocks and trees continuously pointed us in the right direction.

After about two hours of walking through the sweaty jungle, we heard a rustling above us followed by a slight coo-ing. Looking up, it became immediately apparent that we were being watched by a team of two monkeys sitting in the trees above us. As we walked forward, the monkeys did, too.

Not intimidated, and not willing to turn around, we continued walking.

After another ten minutes or so of walking, the rustling vanished. We noticed the two monkeys had disappeared. 

'Where did they go?' The Japanese man mused.

And then suddenly another huge monkey ran out from the bush. It screeched and stopped directly in front of us as if to collect a toll.

'What does it want?' the Italian asked.

'I'm not sure' I said.

So we waited for the monkey to move. And waited. And waited. Finally, after about ten minutes we decided to throw it a banana. It looked up, and delighted by the collection of the fee, ran away with the banana. It was now safe to pass.

After ten more minutes of walking, we finally arrived.

And after a quick dip in the jellyfish infested waters, we decided to hire a boat back for 10rm ($3.33).