Monkey Mountain

Even if I never went to Monkey Mountain, just knowing a place with such a name existed would be enough.

Armed with bananas and Octopuses we headed to the MTR. First--lunch. We went to Tuen Mun (actually the opposite direction, but only one stop away) to one of those cramped, crowded restaurants of awesomeness. I ate cuttlefish balls (yum) and a noodle. Seriously, the noodles in that soup were so long and knotted together, I'm 70% certain it was just one really really long one. Actually, I'm -100% certain; I don't want you to actually think it might have been just one noodle, because that would have been pretty amazing. It just felt like it.


After a brief stop at TMT Plaza (they've hung "Happy New Years" signs inside, if you can believe it) and another brief stop somewhere else (someone had an errand to run at another shopping center in another town, but the store was closed) we arrived.

Oh, and a third brief stop to a bakery while waiting for the bus. Our directions had been left behind at the lunch table (along with the accompanying monkey illustration) but they were fairly straightforward. At this point we remembered the instructions as "Take Bus 81 and ask the driver which stop is for Monkey Mountain." Actually, the driver couldn't tell us, but a nice couple on the second deck of the bus could. Also, the bus stop is swarming with monkeys.

There really weren't that many baby monkeys. I've just disproportionately represented them. Because anyone who dislikes baby monkeys possesses a cold heart indeed. Or none at all.

Although, please don't take offense if you actually don't like baby monkeys. I suppose it's possible. I mean, they might have fleas.


First of all: why would you bring your dog to a monkey-filled forest?
Second: nothing. I'm still puzzling over the first question. The only answer I can think of is that monkeys scare you, and dogs scare monkeys (in Korea dogs and monkeys = cats and dogs). But then why visit Monkey Mountain?


We were not supposed to feed the monkeys. But one member of our group did. And a whole swarm of monkeys started running up from behind us. And he tried it again later, and just the sound of the plastic bag crinkling got the monkey all agitated. So: DON'T FEED THE MONKEYS!!! Unless the thought of being ripped to shreds by a family of feral monkeys appeals to you.

On the other hand, watching the monkey peel apart the orange was pretty fascinating.






The path led to the reservoir (if I remember correctly and that's what this is) and then to a little barbeque picnic area and then deeper into the forest. We stopped seeing monkeys so we turned around and found a larger picnic area that also had two of those metal bars for doing chin-ups. Chin-ups are boring, so we disobeyed the stick-figure illustrating the concept of "chin-up" and swung from them monkey-style until the sun started setting.




On the bus ride back I tried photographing this amazing bridge. Well, I shouldn't say "tried;" I did take a photograph of the bridge. It just looks more like a heart rate.