The Writing Vagabond

I wasn't sure what to expect as my tired feet clunked to the ground, out of our hired vehicle. Looking around, Denpasar was everything I imagined it to be: a lush paradise of tropics and merchantry that had been combined in one. Stalls of silk scarves and wooden toys barricaded the streets tightly, while homeless dogs sat by some of the shopkeepers feet, eagerly hoping to earn their keep.

It was then I caught sight of what I had really been hoping to see on our five hour venture. Sitting atop one of the stalls was a small Balinese monkey, staring out across its land like his brothers past. The shopkeeper was obviously disgruntled, picking up a beam pole and waving it away in annoyance, extending a frustrated hand to the dog and speaking quickly in Balinese as if the dog had not done his job properly. The dog ignored him, rolling over lazily.

I looked over the gnarled high wall, draped in vines. Monkey Forest, it read. Primates of all shapes and sizes perched upon the wall to the delight of guests, and with no hesitation (or proper consideration) we paid our tickets and wandered inside. We had been told very clearly that the monkeys were all too used to visitors, and therefore knew some of the common ploys. Hiding food in an effort to save it for the entire walk, for example, was something the primates knew well. So we decided to not buy food altogether, fearing a monkey rampage.

Around halfway into the walk, an adult monkey strolled past our troop with little interest until he caught sight of my step-mother's handbag. With hands that would put a pickpocket to shame, he began undoing the various zips and latches involved, hunting for valuables. My step-mother then made the mistake of gently closing the bag, fearing for her glasses. The monkey then, disgruntled, climbed up my step-mother and perched on her head.

We were in hysterics at the sight, and in the most helpful way possible, my father pulled out a camera while my step-mother smiled on nervously.
Then, the monkey bared its teeth, and bit my step-mother right in the back of the head.
Suddenly these monkey's were not so charming after all. In fact, I was terrified. We spent the remainder of the walk clutched to each other. It was definitely a lesson in research; back in the hotel I researched several travel blogs that indicated that the primates could be quite violent, and without proper education, could bite. From then on in, I became the travel expert before we went anywhere ever again.