Clear blue sky, fat white clouds, boundless ocean in the distant and monkeys on canons. You read that right. Monkeys on canons. Would you believe such a sight? You could only get this kind of combination in Bukit Malawati, a hill located in the district of Kuala Selangor where the remains of a 400-year-old defense fortress still standing amidst a thick wooded area.
My honest impression of Kuala Selangor used to be nothing but a rather barren and flat landscape coupled with dry heat. I’d make my annual visit there to spend Eid with my family at our granduncle’s. Along the way, we’d pass by the idyllic paddy fields and wooden houses that make up the district’s rural charm. I’d heard of the old Chinese fishing village nestled somewhere close to town but that was about it. We never really explored every inch of the sleepy town. Having revealed so, you could imagine my astonishment when I absorbed this breathtaking sight whilst on top of that hill with N last Saturday. Here’s a perfect place to spend an evening getting acquainted with those furry friends and the lesser-known relic of the past.
The relic entails a smattering of cannons, including a purportedly haunted one called Meriam DiRaja (Malay for ‘royal cannon’) that’s widely believed to have once blasted fire on its own at nightfall. This is, after all, a site that witnessed the violent battlefield between the locals, the Dutch and subsequently, the British. The Dutch conquered the fortress from the Selangor royalty in the 1700s and even christened it as Altingsburg before it went back to the hands of the locals. Sultan Ibrahim and his loyal followers fought the Dutch for the place in a war that lasted only one night. By dawn, Bukit Malawati returned to its position as the heart of Selangor’s government for the next hundred years.
Truthfully, I wouldn’t have known much about this piece of history if I hadn’t toured the nearby museum. Sure, my history classes had mentioned of this sometime in the past but I never paid much attention to the chapter on Selangor’s heritage (or any other chapters for that matter, ha!). Brushing up on history and culture is something that I recently picked up and this has probably got to do with age rather than mere interest. So if monkeys are not really up your ally, touring the museum on the grounds like I did would make an enriching pursuit.
Otherwise, a walk uphill would lead you to a charming lighthouse built in the 1900s by the British during its occupation of Malaya. In the past, the lighthouse used to aid merchant ships that sail to the nearby port during nighttime. Today, not one soul is allowed to could climb up the staircase to enter but the view from uphill is spectacular enough to revel in.
Standing on top of Bukit Malawati would make you believe how extraordinary this place must have been to the Sultan and his people back then. This is, undeniably, the highest peak in the area and offers a far-reaching view of the Selangor River that snakes through the flat lowland and into the mouth of the Straits of Malacca. The hill also used to be the palace grounds of Sultan Ibrahim but what remains now are only the ruins of the fortress’s moldering walls and the resting place for Selangor’s royalty.
Of course, the highpoint of Bukit Malawati would none other be the monkeys that inhabit the surrounding centuries-old angsana trees. They’re mostly silver leaf monkeys and it was interesting to note how the young ones spot this intense fluff of gingery hair as opposed to their brown-haired parents. They were well-trained and friendly especially to those who would bestow them with fresh long beans or ripe bananas. Many folks were having their photographs taken with these monkeys on their shoulders or in their arms; some of the monkeys gave gracious pecks on the cheek in return.
They could, however, get pretty rowdy; I’d seen a group of them bickering over a half-eaten banana and a naughty one snatching a can of soda from a Korean girl who then cried to no ends. But more often than not, these monkeys were a joy to observe. Some were looking out for each other’s fleas in the strangest positions, some were dangling from the tree branches in chill-out mode and some were mothers who wear their babies for photo (or food) op. N and I, admittedly, were afraid of them. Something about the monkeys’ gnashing teeth and human-like gestures, perhaps, that made us anxious. We kept our distance but still delighted in their presence.
After observing the monkeys, we made our way down the less trodden paths to explore what’s left of the fortress. Given that these paths were sheltered away from the monkey attraction, the atmosphere was a bit quieter and cooler too with all the canopy-like trees. And speaking of quiet, the hike could be a tad unnerving to boot. Let’s see if you could detect anything strange from this photograph…
One solitary path took us to a rickety flight of stairs, known among the locals as the 100-step. Climbing these steps immediately took us to this stone, placed at what was once the entrance of the fort. The Sultan is believed to have chosen this particular space as a recreation spot for him to drink in the view of Kuala Selangor or watch a glorious match of cock-fighting.
While this version of the story seems well and meek, there’s also a darker account of the stone. Rumor has it that the stone was used to punish a maiden of the palace who was caught doing the naughty on it with her lover. The enraged Sultan allegedly sentenced the unfortunate maiden to be decapitated on this very stone. Eeps.
If this story gives you the jitters, then I’d let you know of a few abandoned wells scattered around the area. One of them is called the Poison Well for a solid reason. The waters carried a lethal concoction of bamboo shoots and latex among others. As a gruesome form of punishment, traitors were placed inside until the water hit their chins. Today, however, the well contains nothing but a stagnant pool of murky water.
Regardless of these disquieting tales, Bukit Malawati is incredible in its own discreet ways. What used to be the palace grounds is now a vast field of grass where you could just have a roll-over or a picnic underneath all that sun. You don’t get this kind of turf that much in Malaysia, so to find a secluded one is like stumbling upon a hidden treasure. Just imagine watching the clouds shift and float and move from this point on earth or staring at the quaint view of the neighboring lighthouse. N and I didn’t get to do much of those things for much longer as the sun was setting. But with all the calm surroundings, friendly monkeys (we’d need tons of courage to feed them later!) and stunning views, we’d definitely return to do all those in a decadently, leisurely manner.
