After lunch, we got on another boat to visit Monkey Island. For me, this trip was a little ambiguous. For one, there was a little hike up to one of the islands peaks. However, nobody had told us that it was more of a climb than a hike. Consequently everybody was wearing flip-flops, which made the entire adventure really quite dangerous.
Then there were the monkeys, the reason for Monkey Island's name. The guide said that only about 70% of visits actually get to see monkeys, and so I was expecting wild monkeys that may or may not be around. His warning turned out to be entirely misleading though, and I'm pretty sure that every single tourist who sets foot on the island gets to see the monkeys. The reason for this is rather sad: the monkeys are not wild monkeys anymore. They are not quite pets, either, but they are totally dependent on tourism. They hang around the beach, going through the rubbish left behind by tourists, and when tourists show up, they do their best to steal any food or drinks people were incautious enough to bring.
Some people even bring bags of fruit along with the purpose of feeding the monkeys, and as a result the monkeys are very capable of opening plastic bags and going through the contents.
They were really cute and funny to look at, of course, but what made the experience really sad for me was seeing them drink the last drops out of discarded soft drink cans. That's most definitely not monkey food and I don't think it can be healthy for them. Strangely enough, none of the other people in my group seemed to share my feelings: with plenty of emphasis they opined that the visit had been amazing. Are these the kind of people who enjoy going to the zoo?
