By Ruby Greenwood
Branded a “party town”, with us not being so “party people”, we decided to head to the Old Town. From Bangkok, the journey was 14 hours, but opting for the cheaper option of a regular class bus meant the journey (with the added benefit of not needing accommodation for the night) cost a mere £17. As someone who does not fare well sleeping on transport, the journey was nowhere near as bad as expected and I would recommend any backpacker to save your pennies and opt for the thrifty option.
We arrived in Phuket Old Town at 8am, meaning we had 6 hours to kill before we could check into our hostel. Tired, hot and unsure what to do, we asked our taxi driver for advice. After ditching our bags at the hostel we decided to combat the long hike up “Monkey Hill” to the viewpoint at the top. Seen as though it was already 30℃ at 8:30, there was no chance this would have been accomplished later on in the day in the gruelling heat of Thailand.
We set off, power walking up through the Old Town and up the hill, excited to see the “cute” monkeys we had idealised when deciding to take the hike. A quick pit stop at 7-eleven provided us with a very well deserved iced coffee and water for the journey. After 20 minutes of pounding the pavements, a woman beckoned for us to buy some monkey food (bananas of course, what else?). Me being me, ADHD, and a little ditsy, had been hyper focused on the hike, not stopping to read the signs plastered up the walls. I had completely missed that the monkeys should not be fed, and believed the woman as she coerced me into thinking that “the monkeys would not come out if we did not feed them”. I pleaded with Tom, wanting to see the monkeys, which were my favourite animal. Luckily, Tom, who has his head screwed on tighter than a monkey's bum, put his foot down and convinced me not to buy the food… which I have never been more glad of in my life.
A mere 50 metres up the hill, we spotted them for the first time. Blissfully unaware of what we were getting ourselves in for, we marched straight into the middle of a monkey fight. The “OMG they’re everywhere, they’re so cute” observation lasted all of 20 seconds, before realising SHIT, they are everywhere!!! The next thing we know a man, who we assumed to be a nature photographer, had a bag full of fruit ripped out of his hands and 50 or so monkeys were bounding down the steep hill towards the peeled gold. At this point we were scared. “Monkeys are like Thai road men”, an analogy a well travelled friend later provided us depicts perfectly the severity of the situation we were in. From there on, we pretty much clung to the nature photographer, feeling much safer in his presence.
The hike was no mean feat for two weary backpackers… made no easier by the monkeys. However, we were much younger and fitter than the man, soon overtaking him, our pace fuelled by fear. This turned out to be a BIG mistake. Not 100m from the man, a monkey attacked us… biting onto Tom's shorts. Tom bravely brandished a stick in its direction, deterring it from attacking him… and sending it straight into my path. I was terrified. Screaming. Running away. To my left was a waist high concrete barrier, penning me in, with a low hanging wire making any exit over the barrier impossible. To my right was a bush and then a sheer drop. I was trapped. The monkey bit onto my bag and was dragged along with me as I ran in fear. I have no idea how he finally got off me or how we “escaped” (incredibly melodramatic). We ventured on, BOTH clutching sticks now. Some 200 metres further, we decided this was no longer worth it and that we were both too overwhelmed with anxiety to enjoy the views… we started our descent.
On the verge of tears, battling through swarms of monkeys, I made Tom book a taxi. Unbeknownst to us, the taxi could not reach us. We soldiered on, not even realising when we had reached the bottom of the hill, purely transfixed on the taxi awaiting us there. When we finally jumped in, locked away safe in the metal box, we realised that we had done it! But no longer required the taxi. Too late. A waste of 200 Baht and the short journey did little to settle my nerves.
After that whole palaver we were both feeling very overwhelmed and a little surreal. The only thing to combat this was a little dog therapy, of course. Feeling shaken up and with a little doubt about animal kind in our minds, we warily entered the dog cafe, only to be met with the friendliest faces, wettest noses and fluffiest tails we had seen in a long time. It was heaven. There’s nothing like air con, puppy cuddles and a coffee to ease the morning's tensions.
To anyone thinking of venturing up Monkey Hill Viewpoint, be aware! Take NOTHING! Hold a stick and do not go at 8:30am when there is no one else there. Safety in numbers definitely applies to this situation, as a group is more likely to be able to fend off the road men.