We took a rest day today so Dave could finish the engineering project he’s been working on the last couple of weeks. While Dave was in the a/c room hogging the laptop I have been at the internet cafe writing and, you know, stuff.

We also found some of the best food we’ve had so far in Thailand. This woman cooks all the specialties: spicy seafood, fried vegetables, curry, pad thai , som tam (papaya salad, my new favorite), and even tom yam (spicy seafood soup). The food is all incredibly fresh and each dish has distinct and complicated flavors. We ate here last night and at lunch and dinner today. We enjoy the woman’s quick smile and nod of approval at our use of spicy peppers. I love to watch her cook each dish separately and carefully, starting with fresh vegetables and mixing spices and sauces as she goes. If you’re coming to Prachuap and want to find her, here’s how: from the beach road near the main part of town, turn west onto the road on the south side of the bright green and orange-trimmed apartment building. Go a couple of blocks and the open-air restaurant is on your left. Not the one on the corner, but right before that. These are terrible directions, I’m realizing. But if you see this woman, please stop for some great food:

MONKEYS

Dave and I rode to the north end of town to climb the 417 steps up to Khao Chong Krajok, a Buddhist chedi built on top of a rocky headland. The Rough Guide called it “monkey infested”, and that it was. Before we even found the stairs, we saw dozens of monkeys sitting around and playing on the grounds of the surrounding park. People approached with food to sell us to feed the monkeys, but we declined. Feeding wildlife rarely ends well for the wildlife or the people.

We parked our bikes across the road from the stairs so we could lock them to a post. A man selling peanuts for the monkeys pointed to the mirrors and said, “monkeys,” while shaking his head and motioning that they would mess with them. Then he said, “I watch for you.” I thought maybe we should have walked, it didn’t turn out to be that far. Oh well. At least the panniers were back in the guest house.

We reached for our dog sticks and the peanut man said “no, no, no,” we wouldn’t need them. In his limited English he basically said the monkeys were harmless. Dave and I looked at each other, shrugged, and put them back. Then we headed up the stairs built into the hillside, winding around trees and big rocks. The monkeys were everywhere–on the steps, in the trees–making a huge racket. They were small, but they were many.

About halfway up I stopped to look at the view and one monkey grabbed my Nalgene water bottle and started screaming and pulling. I yelled, “No!” but he only hissed back at me and kept his hands firmly on the bottle. I pulled it back and held it close to me, realizing these monkeys were used to having things held out for them. The monkey was MAD that I took back my gift, and we had to swing wide around him to move up the stairs.

As we approached the chedi at the top Dave wanted to zip on his pant legs so he would be respectful of this Buddhist place. The gate was up ahead, and as a man walked down and passed us, he said, “Grab a few of these, those guys get a little aggressive at the gate!” and he held out a handful of broken tiles and rocks. Oh my goodness.

But we got through the gate just fine, and soon saw why this spot was chosen. To the west was the calm teal ocean, to the south was Prachuap and the sandy beach to the next headland. To the north was another beach with smaller towns to the next headland and our route for tomorrow. To the west we could see jungle-forested mountains marking the Burmese border about 12 kilometers away. A wonderful breeze cooled us off, and we wandered around the small chedi.

We found out the source for all the broken tiles near the top of the stairs: the monkeys were slowly stripping them off the rooftops and crashing them down below. The monkeys swung up, around, over, and through every inch of this place. There were hundreds of them on this small hill. They probably couldn’t survive at this point without being fed, because no place this size could support a population this big. There were mothers with babies all over, ensuring the population would grow and continue. There was a monk sitting on a bench, feeding and trying to slowly win the trust of some of the monkeys so he could pet them. They never quite let him get that close.

We continued enjoying the view for quite a while, watching the sun sink down low. We watched the monkeys groom and play and fight. When we decided to leave, there were several monkeys guarding the gate. Dave went first and tried to shoo them away, but they wouldn’t move. He clapped. Nothing. Then finally he lurched forward and stomped his feet and they scattered. We ducked through and made our way down, moving wide around particularly grumpy monkeys, until we made it down and back to our bikes.

The mirrors were wrenched in hard angles and smudged with prints, but the peanut guy was nowhere to be seen.