These are the frisky critters that leapt about the roof of our bungalow on a recent stay at Railay Beach. They reminded me of my early love for playful, long-tailed monkeys.
I was 6, when we first visited the Staten Island Zoo and I fell in love with the monkeys and the lions. I loved seeing the lions at feeding time, roaring and carrying on. But I could watch the crazy monkeys forever. I wanted badly to have one as a pet. I really sort of wanted to be one. I was very good on the monkey bars at school, after all.
The monkeys that we saw in Thailand did not thrill me the way they did when I once watched them behind bars. At dusk, the Thai creatures with their eerie eyes, leapt from roof to roof, making a horrible racket.
We were told not to feed them or make eye contact, since they can be mean. Worst of all, they gathered in trees above us and it was nerve wracking to rush down the path underneath them... knowing they can make a mess.
The Thai monkeys with their creepy eyes and sudden pouncing made me lose my desire to own a monkey as a pet.
Don and I spotted a few on our morning walk to Phrarang Cave/Beach and I kept my distance. Instead I turned my attention towards a little monkey behavior and climbed up the muddy vines for a while.
I have a feeling I would fail terribly if today, I tried to swing along a set of monkey bars. (I no longer have that monkey-like body I had at age 6.) But I did use my arms and legs to get my 60-year old self up that muddy, rock wall without too much effort. I didn't swing on any vines. I didn't make monkey sounds. I didn't even have a tail to help me along. But I enjoyed "being a monkey" for just a little while.