Monkey Mountain: Eye Contact is a Commitment

If you’re into monkeys, mountains—or ideally both—then Khao Takiab (Monkey Mountain) has your name written all over it. Figuratively speaking, of course. The monkeys don’t need any more ideas.

Approaching from Hua Hin Beach, you’re greeted by a towering Buddha statue rising some 66 feet into the sky. Behind it, a staircase—128 steps, but who’s counting—leads up to Wat Khao Lad, a quiet shrine with views that make every step worth it. From the top, the coastline stretches out in both directions, the Gulf of Thailand shimmering below with windsurfers, fishing boats, and the occasional overconfident tourist on a jet ski.

But let’s be honest—you didn’t come here for the cardio or the scenery.

You came for the monkeys.

And oh, are there monkeys.

Hundreds—maybe thousands—of long-tailed macaques lounging, leaping, plotting. When I first visited, my guide warned me no fewer than six times: “Do not make eye contact.”

Now, that’s easier said than done when you’re surrounded by creatures who seem personally invested in making eye contact with you.

Apparently, in monkey terms, eye contact is less “hello” and more “let’s escalate this situation.”

You may notice them chattering their teeth at you—a gesture that looks suspiciously like a smile. And in a way, it is.

Just… not the reassuring kind.

These little guys are opportunists. Professionals, really.

Nice hat? They’ve been thinking about it.
Phone in your hand? Bold choice.
Shoulder bag? That’s not your bag anymore—that’s a negotiation.

Macaques have a reputation here, and let’s just say it wasn’t earned by polite behavior. More than a few visitors have left Monkey Mountain a little lighter than they arrived—sometimes voluntarily, sometimes not.

To be fair, they are incredibly intelligent. Their memory, problem-solving, even tool use—it’s impressive. If they ever figure out Venmo, we’re all in trouble.

Now, while they may look like adorable little bandits, they are still wild animals. This is not the place to test your inner Dr. Dolittle. No touching, no teasing, and definitely no sudden moves that could be interpreted as “I would like to lose a finger today.”

If you’d like to feed them, there’s usually a monk or caretaker nearby selling bananas or nuts.

Just be ready.

These monkeys don’t catch food—they intercept it with the precision of a Gold Glove outfielder and the enthusiasm of a kid chasing an ice cream truck.

Getting to Monkey Mountain is easy—taxi, tuk-tuk, or even a walk if you’re feeling ambitious.

Getting away with all your belongings?

Well… that’s a bit more of a skill.

So go, enjoy the views, meet the locals, and by all means—take it all in.

Just remember:

In most places, making eye contact is considered polite.

Here, it’s considered the opening move.

Until next time.

The mischief and majesty of Monkey Mountain