Posts Tagged With: Ubud Monkey Forest

Where I lay myself to sleep

WE ARE still building a throne room, and a slide, and a tree house. I have explained this here. What I haven’t told you is what I do to go to sleep at night.

Sometimes I sleep at the top of the tree. I huddle in a group of monkeys when they are feeling sweet and not particularly violent. But a few days ago a local vendor offered me his old shed at the edge of the forest.

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I stay in there and sleep on a little mattress. I haven’t told the monkeys where I go to sleep because sometimes you just need a nice nap without your hair being ransacked for bugs.

It does get lonely sometimes. There is a torch I use if I can’t sleep. I read a book  and then I think about how lonely I am. Then I promise myself to cut down on the alcohol because it makes me feel sad.

But the next morning I’m back with the monkeys and I’m happy again and we party on.



Categories: Humor, Renovations | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Monkey Forest is my home

THE  taxi driver laughs non-stop during the drive from Denpasar airport to Ubud.

“Get this off me, it’s boiling in this!” the drop bear, Garrett, grumbled about an hour into the drive. So I helped him take off the dog onesie (which I put on him as a disguise to get through customs).  It took fifteen minutes before we realised it would be easier to unbuckle the seatbelt first. Rocky Balboa – the driver – was still cackling.

“Ah ha ha ha. Hee hee hee. Ah ha ha ha. You Aussies funny.”

“Stop laughing. I hate you,” Garrett said.

“Hee hee hee.”

“Yeah, this isn’t funny,” I agreed.

“I hate you too,” Garrett said to me as I managed to take the onesie off his pudgy hindquarters. “You blasted animal. This is kidnap! You can’t do this. I am a national mascot. You can’t remove national mascots from their country without permission. It’s international law.”

I ordered the car to stop at a supermarket. We walked in and I bought a few Bintangs, Cheese Tim-Tams,  and a fruitpunch flavoured Fanta (vile concoction that is the closest you’ll ever get to monster blood #Goosebumpsreference)

Garrett stopped complaining after seven Bintangs. “You know, buddy, you’re alright,” Garrett said. “Most people wouldn’t think of getting a national mascot drunk to cheer him up. You’re special.”

“We’re home!,” I said as we pulled up in the Monster Monkey Forest car park.

It was great to be back. I was excited. This is where I belonged. I told Garrett to wait in the car as I stepped out, examining the wall marking the forest. It was a busy day, judging by the number of tourists pouring out of the gates.

It had been weeks since I had been in the forest. I walked through the forest with a fresh eye. I saw the tourists of all nationalities walking in and out the gates, examining the cheap stores across the road, laughing at each other. I saw Sunny (monkey) walk a power line, flaunting as the Japanese tourists below hooted and took photos.

Two lovely ladies (I never learnt their names) guarded a store of bananas outside the gates. Inside the gate I passed two of the monkeys attending our store called Place You Can Buy Your Crap Back. A German with a thick moustache was yelling down at Oscar, the one with the fez on while pointing down at her passport.

“100,000! Unverschämt!” she screamed.

I passed a child eating an ice-cream. Another few trying to lure some of the younger monkeys in for a group photo. Mojo drove past me on his moped. “Monkey King!” he cheered.

“Where’s your helmet,” I reminded him.

“I broke it,” he shouted back as he puttered out the gate.

I passed the monkey trainer – Made – who smiled and gave me a thumbs up. He looked more exhausted than I’d seen him. “They out of control,” he said, “good you back.” As he said this I watched the monkeys in the top of the tree drag some cannons across a log bridge in the canopy. “Where the hell did they get them!” I said.

Meanwhile, Charlie, our arsonist, was lighting a fire down by the creek. Simeon sat nearby, offering cigarettes to some of the local children. As I went down to stop him, Bitey came snarling past with three toddlers on his back.

“Faster, Bitey!” one of the toddlers screamed, kicking the white tiger in the gut with a pink gumboot. “Faster.”

Bitey snarled again but did what he was told, pouncing at Made, who ducked just in time.

“I am the lizard king!” Abu said – from the top of a statue of me – as he cracked a whip down at an American couple. He flashed his butt at them just in time for them to take a photo.

Someone touched me on the shoulder. I turned to face the beautiful girl who was trying to catch my attention.

“You’re back,” Gina smiled, and for the first time, she seemed glad to be speaking to me. “These monkeys are insane.”

“I’ve missed them all,” I said. “I’ve missed my home. And I’ve missed you!” and she beamed.

“Believe it or not, monkey boy, I’ve kinda missed you too,” she said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go meet my fiancé.”

“Good for you,” I said, scowling at the engagement ring, ignoring Timmy screaming that he was going to stab somebody. I watched a few other monkeys ripping apart a piñata with golf clubs. Mashed banana came bursting out of the paper mache donkey. Another monkey – with a blindfold on – was faced the other direction, whacking a tree trunk.

I climbed the rope ladder to the top of my tree and sat in my throne. I watched the chaos and I smiled. This really was my home. But I decided to have a sleep before I introduced a drop bear into the forest.

Categories: Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Day 1 on Big Monkey

Big Monkey LIVE! aired on TV last night. 15 monkeys were introduced (some I’ve told you about in an eaMonkey-mates wait on the "front porch" of the tree to see who they are competing against. rlier post).

There weren’t many members in the audience so we had to pay some taxi drivers to wave names on pieces of cardboard. In fact, I believe they are the same ones they use at Denpasar airport which makes no sense because we don’t have monkeys on our show called “Rocky” and “Akmal” or “Made”.

We also had a soundtrack of clapping and laughter, so I think on air this show looks extremely popular (though ratings say otherwise).

One by one the monkeys climbed the tree where they waited nervously for the rest of their yet unknown monkey-mates and rivals.

Not much happened except for when Timmy was introduced. He’s insane- forced onto the show to win his freedom. He threw Mojo off the tree after they began an unscheduled Lucha Libre match – complete with colourful wrestling masks they smuggled onto the show despite the rigorous searches.

Mojo left the tree (even though he was thrown off with a seismic toss) meaning he has been disqualified.

The only other good thing about the show was that I got to see Gina again. Admittedly it was from a distance. I’m not allowed near her. Gina is the TV presenter. So gorgeous that she should be locked away in a temple somewhere.

She stood at the base of the tree and announced the monkeys and narrated their actions in the tree. I was impressed by how well she recognised illegal wrestling moves.

Day 001: I think I’m in love with Gina. I’m already sick of the monkeys. More on Gina in later days.

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Rabid monkey build-ups and other party games

A BRAWL just started between a few monkeys over who loves the Monkey King more. (Awww). They jumped into the fountain and now they are smacking each other around.

Party brawl: there's never a good reason for violence.

Party brawl: there’s never a good reason for violence.

Yes, the coronation party is still going. Wish I had never been coronated (yeah, I just invented a word, I’m that tired).

The responsible humans went home to sleep off their hangover days ago. Unfortunately the tourists keep coming. They just keep coming. And the party keeps going because these tourists are here to party and the monkeys don’t want to disappoint. The same song that’s played 5545 times (Bom Bom) is so loud the bass makes my heart vibrate out of its regular timing.

The nearby restaurants and bars donated food and alcohol at the weekend but the owners are getting pissed off. One old Dutchman – who has a five star restaurant on the other side of town – yelled at Jo-Jo, telling her the music needed to stop. She bit him and he complained that he didn’t get his rabies shot.

“Good,” she said as she bit him again. “Double the chances.” The old man never came back, so I presume he was busy getting medical attention.

“Maybe he had a point, maybe we should get some sleep,” I said, thinking of poor Balboa (monkey), who was so sleep deprived he fell off the cliff he was climbing in a game called Rabid Monkey Build-Ups.

Rabid monkey build-ups

Climbing a cliff while sleep deprived. Hmm.

“You not like party?” Jo-Jo snapped, ready to throw a beer bottle at me. I assured her I was having a wonderful time. I even showed her my happy dance, which involved skipping on the wall in my monkey onesie, throwing coconuts at passer-bys’ hurriedly driving past.

“What are you looking at!” I yelled at a sullen faced teenager who parked his moped momentarily to check the damage caused by a coconut that must have fallen out of a tree. “If you’re under 18, then you better beat it!”

He ran away and I knew I had been rude. It’s not really my fault. It’s been a weird couple of days. And I’m beginning to think the Bundy Rum bear won’t show up.

Categories: Humor, Party | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Bom Bom in Ubud Monkey Forest

MY CORONATION started Saturday morning, and it hasn’t stopped. The monkeys dressed respectably, even ironing their clothes. Most of the clothes have been ripped to shreds by now and lie across the branches.

Monkey trainers and taxi drivers and even the market stall owners showed up in numerous animal onesies even though it was such a humid day. My favourite was the pretty waitress dressed as a sexy elephant.

The theme music of my formal ascension to the throne was Bom Bom (Sam and The Womp).

For lunch we had fish and chips, delivered by a young delivery driver from Bali Buddha. I invited him to stay and party. He phoned his girlfriend and her extended family who lived nearby to join the fun, and we made some new friends.

Making friends.

You’re a Capuchin too!: What’s a monkey like you doing in a place like this?

The monkeys danced with the tourists to the energetic music as I surveyed my kingdom with a fresh eye. Certainly, you might be under the impression I ruled this kingdom since I began this blog in May. You and me both. For you see, making a white Australian believe he was a monkey king was a cruel prank. They thought screwing around with a gullible uni student would give them a few weeks of non-stop laughter. When I was no longer funny they would eat me (Mojo told me this).

But after all the energy I’d put into being monkey king, the monkeys became uncomfortable, psychologically speaking. They began to like me and they didn’t want to kick me out of the tree and say “fun’s over”.  Fortunately it worked out for us all. There had been a power vacuum left from when they executed their last king (a monkey named Ivan. I don’t know what they did to remove him or why, but I’ll find out).

So all the grown monkeys met in secret and took a vote to see whether they could keep me as their ruler or whether I should be voted off the island of Bali.

“I don’t have the heart to eat him,” an adopted Capuchin called Nigel admitted. “I don’t even eat much meat anyway, to tell you the truth.”

“We don’t have to eat him,” Rafiki said. “We just have to bite him a lot of times. If we do this I’ll shout us all rounds at the Boom Boom Bar.” He still hasn’t forgiven me for burning down his veranda (Long story).

Rafiki (right): Yeah, he's a baboon living in Bali. I'll explain that story another time.

Rafiki (right): Yeah, he’s a baboon living in Bali. I’ll explain that story another time.

But the bribe failed, and here we are. Two days into the party and the music is so loud we can’t sleep (even if you want to dammit!), Bom Bom on repeat for the thousandth time. It’s a carnival and many of the restaurants have given us alcohol and food as a form of tribute or congratulations or whatever. A couple of the monkeys are now performing a Punch and Judy show, but they don’t seem to have watched Punch and Judy before, and judging by their actions they are making violent assumptions based on the name.

The party doesn’t look to be stopping anytime soon so I’ll fill you in with more details later. As some of my readers will know, one of my 24 dreams is to party with the Bundy Rum bear. He hasn’t showed up yet =(

Please come Bundy Bear!

If you read this, Bundy Bear, then please come!

Categories: Humor, Party | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

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