We started the day with one goal: monkeys. The road into Ubud was already warm and busy, and by the time we reached the entrance the trees felt like they were swallowing the noise. Everything inside is green on green. Vines hanging low, moss on old stone, roots curling over steps like they have been there forever. We barely made it fifty metres before the first family of macaques appeared, perched along a ledge like regulars at a bar.
The morning set its tone with a tiny baby tucked under mum’s arm. They were working through a mound of corn scattered by the park team. The baby kept looking up with that wide-eyed “is this all for me” face, then back to the corn like a serious little inspector. Georgia whispered that it was the best thing she had seen. Dotty held tight , very still but in time got braver..
From there the forest became a series of small episodes. A teenager monkey legged it across the path carrying a stolen leaf as if it had nabbed a diamond. Two older monkeys sat facing each other on a low wall, picking through fur with the focus of people doing a tricky jigsaw. Every now and then a shout went up somewhere deeper in the trees, a burst of monkey drama that died away as quickly as it started. The place has a rhythm: quiet observation, sudden chaos, back to quiet again.
Then it was my turn to be part of the show. One chancer hopped up the back of my rucksack as if I had been hired for the purpose. Light feet, quick hands, and before I could say anything it had the suncream. It settled on my shoulder like a small, confident commuter eating a snack on the way to work. The stuff must taste awful but the monkey was committed, licking the tube like a lollipop while I tried to look relaxed and not smell of SPF 50 for the rest of the trip. Georgia howled and was in shock Dotty had no idea what the commotion was. I tried to regain custody of the suncream but it was off as quick as it came so we carried on a little lighter and somewhat wiser and now part of the day’s entertainment.
We looped deeper into the forest under the long bridges and past stone guardians, then back out towards the edge where the path widens. The light shifts there. It is less jungle, more town, with scooters humming somewhere beyond the wall and a strip of cafés and stalls just outside.
We left the forest and grabbed a grab(taxi) to art street for a while. Market stalls and small shops sat shoulder to shoulder: painted shutters, woven baskets, carved wood, and rows of batik shirts in every shade of blue. we eyed up a few souvenirs and mostly kept our hands in our pockets.
We ducked in and out of a couple of places, paused to watch someone finishing a mural. After a last look along the stalls, we found lunch.
Lunch was noisy but the chatter of travellers talking and people enjoying the food distracted from the hustle going on outside. We laughed about the monkey stories Georgia laughed as she repeated telling the tale of the suncream heist, which apparently grows funnier every time it’s told. We stepped back into the heat and decided it was a supplies afternoon rather than a big outing. A quick taxi later and we were standing in Indomaret, doing the familiar traveller’s dance of “what will we actually eat” in front of a wall of not much choice. Noodles, fruit, water, biscuits for morale, a cold something for now. Baskets full the kids gave me a shopping headache!
Back at the villa the day clicked into its final shape. The gate slid open, the pool flashed blue, and everything softened. Shoes off, bags down, phones forgotten on a table. dotty was asleep before I could go for a wee. I wanted Georgia to have a nap too but she like always pushed against that in the end she was in the pool practised underwater handstands like a tiny gymnast.
My pro tip… visit monkey forest early to beat the crowds and see the monkeys before they are fed up with people!
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