Day 4: Won’t you take me to…Monkey Town!

Today was our much anticipated day trip to Lop Buri, the monkey town! We were intrigued by this town that allows macaque monkeys to run rampant, and seeing a similar town in India on the Planet Earth series secured it a place on our itinerary. We bought third class train tickets which I actually much preferred to our swanky second class seats yesterday. There was no air conditioning but the windows were open and the breeze was quite nice, and vendors passed through the car with delicious foods for just fractions of a dollar. It also didn’t hurt that the price was under $3 total for all four tickets! I was an instant convert to third class.

Slushies at the train station

Rolling in comfort in third class

Arrival in Lop Buri was a breeze: the train station is right in the middle of the old town, and it’s a short walk to the temples in the “monkey zone.” After about a block and a half we saw our first monkey. It was swinging on the power lines, and we ooh-ed and aah-ed and Zach snapped picture after picture. Then we looked down the street and realized that just ahead of us the place was literally teeming with macaques. They were sliding down telephone poles, sitting on parked motorbikes, harassing people leaving the corner 7-Eleven, and lounging on sidewalks. It was amazing but also kind of scary.

We were lucky to have a cloudy day today so the weather was much more bearable, and we slowly walked the grounds of a ruined temple with eyes only for the monkeys. They were hilarious to watch- mamas walking with babies clinging to their tummies and backs, fat alpha males strutting and intimidating each other, juveniles defending precious food scraps or plastic bottles. When we purchased tickets we were given a long skinny stick. “For the monkeys,” the attendant told us, making a slashing motion with his hand. We were very grateful for the stick. In Lop Buri it is believed that the monkeys are disciples of the Hindu god Hanuman, who is said to have founded the city. Because of this, the monkeys are never harmed and have become exceedingly brazen and aggressive with people.

Monkeying around

Carrying food in the monkey zone is a prescription for an attack, and if you don’t give up your food immediately the monkeys do not hesitate to bite. We didn’t see any stupid tourists feeding monkeys (as you would normally expect in these situations) due to the aggressive behavior of the monkeys, but locals do leave food out for them around the monkey zone and they delight in raiding trash cans as well. Diane was thrilled to watch the monkeys while keeping a safe distance, but Melina was jittery and slightly terrified. I tried to explain to her that there was no need to be scared; a healthy respect for the monkeys was plenty as we didn’t have any food or other reason they would come near us and besides, I was brandishing a stick. She couldn’t be placated but clung to me desperately until we entered the inside of the ruined temple, which kept the monkeys out with a heavy metal gate. Then she relaxed as we admired the bats on the ceiling and rats darting across the paths. Those didn’t bother her at all.

Bats in the temple

After retuning the monkey stick and leaving the temple, Melina’s nerves intensified. At one point, Diane turned to me and said (quietly, out of her beloved sister’s earshot), “I’m kind of scared of the monkeys too, but I get it together.” About a minute later I heard high pitched screams behind me and turned to see a monkey chasing Melina and Zach! Melina ran to me and Zach barely escaped, but the monkey did manage to bite the back of his shoe. We don’t know what set him off, but he had initially gone straight for Melina. Maybe it was her big blue eyes (we noticed they do not like direct eye contact and are likely to bare their teeth if you stare too much), or maybe he could smell Melina’s fear. Either way, we high-tailed it out of the monkey zone.

We recovered at a quiet and monkey-free cafe. Zach and I shared some mango and (bright green) sticky rice and I made good on my promise of ice cream as a payback for dropping mine yesterday. The girls relished their victory.

As I’ve mentioned before, Thais fawn over the girls, but especially Diane (either because of her curls or because she is younger). One woman in Lop Buri stopped us on the street to learn D’s name and then when she saw us again an hour later was so delighted that she kissed Diane on the head, calling “bye bye, Diane!” as we parted.

Ready to be done with monkeys, and with some of the major sites closed in town on Mondays anyway, we decided to catch the midday train back to Ayutthaya. As we waited in the train station we met a beautiful blonde woman from North Carolina with young blonde children hanging all over her. She and her husband and their six kids have been living in Lop Buri for the last eight months (the youngest was born here) and attending language school to learn Thai. Then they will move to the southeastern coast to live as missionaries. Not my thing, obviously, but she was so delighted to see other Americans (and especially Americans traveling with children) that we stood for a while by the sinks of the pay toilets, baby bjorned on her chest, and she told me about the trials of living in Thailand with kids. “You have to carry a stick to keep the monkeys away,” she instructed, “but the stray dogs are even worse. They run in packs and chase us on our bicycles. If you don’t have a stick with you, act like you are throwing something at them to scare them away.”

When our train arrived we were devastated to see that it was packed full to the brim. People were crammed in the aisles gripping rings hanging from the ceiling, babies slept on the floor, and men crowded in the open air space between train cars. All of a sudden those second class reserved seats were looking pretty good again. We squeezed ourselves on and almost immediately the jolting and rocking of the old rickety train was too much for Diane, and she had to sit on the floor with a lollipop to settle her stomach. I readied the emergency barf bags I keep in my purse and cursed myself for not giving her a dramamine, but Melina stepped up as the heroic big sister and encouraged Diane to wrap herself around her leg to steady herself.

Halfway through the ride a nice man noticed Diane’s glassy eyes and gave her his seat, and soon afterwards the woman across from D gave hers to Melina. We bought a Fanta from passing vendor (yes, the vendors continued to push their way through the crowd hawking cold drinks even in this mess) and that seemed to help Diane, but what helped the most was when Melina taught her how to play sticks (a math game) and Diane perked up and they played happily for the rest of the hour long trip. No need to use those barf bags! Hooray! Melina for the win.

Back in Ayutthaya, we hopped in a tuk tuk (they are much safer here) and sought out a restaurant that is known by locals as the best place to get “boat noodles,” a local specialty. We were the only foreigners in the place and the girls were fawned over, the waitresses delighting in Diane’s hair, caressing her curls. She was polite and a bit uncomfortable with the attention, but was distracted quickly by the delicious noodle soups she and Melina devoured. Zach and I relished our boat noodles, which are basically noodle soups stewed with the broth reduced so they are basically just very flavorful noodles and meat that you garnish with basil, fish sauce, and chilies. So yummy.

On the way back, a pack of dogs followed Zach and Diane at an uncomfortably close distance. When they didn’t relent, Zach shooed them away but that only seemed to embolden them. “Pretend you are throwing something at them!” I called, and that along with Zach’s deep assertive voice scared them off. It was a bit unsettling for all of us.

We rested up in our guesthouse for a while and then again explored the night market. It was much more alive in the early evening on a weeknight than it had been late Sunday night. The stalls were jam packed with bubbling curries and brightly colored sweets. We found a stall selling fresh durian and bought one, which was cut and packaged for us. The smell was completely unremarkable, but we really liked the taste (only Melina wasn’t a fan). It was remniscent of a paw paw with it’s creamy texture and sweet milky flavor. We think ours was not overly ripe, which accounts for the lack of noxious odor and the less intense flavor. Maybe we’ll have a chance to get the full experience later, but for now we were quite pleased with our sampling.

We picked up some mango and sticky rice (white rice this time) to-go for dessert later and walked across the old town for dinner on the river. It was calm and relaxing, and we feasted on giant river prawns and duck while listening to a live musician croon Thai ballads.

Back to Bangkok tomorrow for just a few hours before heading south on an overnight train for the next part of our adventure!