After yesterday's adventures, I slept for probably too long. I was packed and having breakfast by 10, which isn't too bad, but I had to be at the airport by 5 at the latest, which gave me less than 6 hours to do something (yes I can count - it's an hours bus journey to the airport). Now I have this habit of forgetting that hours are quite long, especially when I have something planned for later on. "oh I have to be somewhere at 2 so I can't possibly start that half an hour thing at 11am because I definitely won't have enough time" I'm terrible with it, and I know it. But. Filled with grand ideas of adventure, and not wanting to waste the day away, I quickly Googled some plans. After dismissing Monkey Beach due to the potential of a two hour walk each way, and an hour bus journey each way, adding up to an approximate 6 hours, and a tight turn around, I Googled a temple that I wanted to go to. Half an hour walk away. Much more feasible. So inevitably, I headed to Monkey Beach.
I had partly been spurred on by becoming friends with Ramona, and seeing her pictures of fabulous beaches and exotic locations, and feeling like my experiences just weren't up to scratch. And partly because there were monkeys there.
So an hour and a bit later, I found myself at the entrance to the national park, heading out in the slight drizzle to the beach. The drizzle soon cleared out and just left humidity. Dripping with sweat is an understatement. As I walked along the path, aware of my short time frame, I was getting frustrated with other walkers - I'd forgotten it was the weekend, and a long weekend for Malaysians at that. But on the plus side, the national park "map" (photocopied paper - black and white) said it was an hour and 15 minutes walk, which added some breathing room.
Eventually I got to a beach. It was not the beach in Ramona's pictures. Either she had a really good camera that could photoshop out lots of litter, or I wasn't in the right place. It was the second option. I carried on down the beach, past lots of Malaysian girls making sandcastles (school trip?!), and found another sign to Monkey Beach. I also found that the way to continue down this path was through the sea - it was high tide. The waves were crashing in, the water was so dirty, and there was a sewage pipe leading into the sea at the crossing point. I watched a few others take their shoes off, walk across and disappear into the bush on the other side, and decided I didn't want to go to this beach enough. There is still plenty of time for beaches, and monkeys for that matter. A combination of time, tourists and dirty water made my decision to head back the way I had come, but at a significantly slower pace.
As I got back into Georgetown, I realised it had been a good decision - it was already gone 3pm, and I had to get back to the hostel and get a bus by 4pm latest. But I was pleased that I had tried. I was pleased that for once I was in control of the situation, and it was me that made the decision to change plans, and that it had worked out for the best. And I was pleased that I'd managed to have a wander through the national park. A quick flick through my camera photos also reminded me that while my photos may not be full of beaches and exotic monkeys like Ramona's, they were full of my experiences, of my holiday. And that's the important thing.
Next up... Thailand.
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