The Journey To Paradise

We booked combination tickets (2nd class train, bus and ferry) to Koh Phangan (or Koh Pah Ngan, or Koh pan ngan, as translations differ), leaving Bangkok just after 5pm on the overnight train.

Having travelled on a few overnight trains in India, we were expecting the usual problems such as what stop is this, which train is this, that's my seat etc. It was a pleasant surprise then when the immaculately dressed railway cop took my ticket and escorted me to the right train, the right carriage, and even pointed to our seats.
We weren't expecting the train to be jam-packed with other farangs, with the de rigor backpacks and flip-flops either. Or to have so much space- rather than a 2 sets of 3-tier bunks facing each other on one side, and two bunks on the other side, the Thai train had just 2 tier bunks, on each side of the train running parallel to the windows.
They were big bunks too, with curtains that screened out the lights, and fresh clean sheets and mattress that a train employee made up for us straight after our meal. Even our meal was pretty posh- laid out on a table that a guy set up for us between the two seats that converted into the lower bunk. Beer and wine was available, and after we had finished, the train-guy leaned over to me conspiratorially-
"You come party carriage! Drinking, party music, smoking ok! 3rd one down- ok?"
"Er, ok!"

We made sure our stuff was secure soon as the guy done our beds, and wondered down the train.
We got to the third carriage, and could hear the music over the roar of the engine and the wind before we pushed the door open. The sight that greeted us made me laugh out loud- disco lights had replaced all the normal lighting, creating a dark but neon-pink and blue flashing atmosphere, the music was old rock, with Guns and Roses and Black Sabbath blaring out. There were seats and tables set up on each side of the carriage, with a neon-pink lined bar down one end, where the barman was dancing and yelling along to the lyrics while pouring a bottle of Meakong whiskey into a bucket of redbull and cola. All the windows were open in an attempt to dissipate the cigarette and cannabis smoke, which wasn't entirely successful but did add to the "Crazy Train" atmosphere, with the wind roaring along with the distorted guitars.
We got a seat, which was lucky in the packed carriage,and talked until alcohol fuzzed our conversation with an Australian couple, before collapsing in our bunks around midnight.

The next day, after getting to our station late, we found we missed the ferry. There was another one at 1400, however after buying new tickets for the 12 o' clock one, and generally being shuttled about by guys who didn't seem to have a clue what was going on, we ended up at the ferry port, only to get the 1400 one anyway.
It was a cock-up, and an expensive one, but I still cringed when our fellow passengers started shouting the odds and swearing at the thai guys. Maybe we are just use to having a few problems now, or maybe we're too laid back, but I still dont think it's a good idea to piss the people off that you need to help you. Certainly not here anyway, where "face" is important and shouting looses face for all concerned!

Eventually we got to the ferry, where I slept for most of the journey to the main port of Tong Sala on our island. From there it was another toyota pickup taxi to the taxi-boats, then a white-knuckle ride in a long-tail boat to our beach.

What a beach!

Backed by coconut palms, the beach is in a bay formed out of rocky hills on each side. White sand slips gradually out into aqua-blue water. To the left of the beach, when approaching by boat, is some rough-hewn steps leading up the rocks to our Muay Thai camp. By the time we climbed them, still wearing our hiking boots and cargos, we were drenched with sweat, and falling over, sucking the hot air into our lungs.

Our accommodation at the Muay Thai camp is a teak and bamboo bungalow, built on stilts on the rocks overlooking the bay. It's basic, with the bathroom back-wall actually being a large rock-face, and we wake up to fresh gecko shit everywhere each morning. However, the deck outside our front door is spacious with a large hammock hanging there to while away the hours on, listening to the waves and watching the world go by on the quiet beach below.

Rarely is there more than 10 people on the beach, and if that's too busy for your taste, there is a smaller bay and beach 5 mins walk away, which seems to be always deserted. If it's too quiet, there is a larger beach over the other hill, which has a small shop and regular taxi boats to the main beach of Haad Rin, where the ATM, 7-11 stores and all other traveller essentials are.

So now we're here, so far been here for 3 weeks, and I don't ever want to leave.

My routine is to get up at 7.30, as training is at 8 until about 10am. I go for a run for half an hour, which up and down the crazy hills here pretty much destroys me, and then into the training area for up to an hour and a half working on technique- shadow boxing, bag work, then finally into the ring for either sparring with a partner or pad work with one of the trainers. A guy called Deday is my favoured trainer, despite his habit of making me dive out the ring to throw up, due to the intensity of his 5-minute rounds on the pads ("30 kicks...Arrgh!! NO Power! 30 more, again!... now knee! More Power!!").

Training over, its a cold shower and breakfast with Mrs G, who usually has a leisurely lie-in.

Then...nothing.

Read a book on the beach, watch telly in the communal area with the other lads, or chill in my hammock, with the beautiful ladies strolling past below, on their way to Yoga or tantric chanting or suchlike.

Lunch.

Sleep.

A toasting session for Mrs G on the beach.

From 4pm to 6pm it's training again, working on conditioning this time. Skipping, shadow boxing and stretching then into heavy bag work, doing 100s of kicks, punches, elbows and knees until spots start swimming in front of my eyes.
Then into the ring for more sparring or pad-work.

The cold shower afterwards is heavenly, as the heat and humidity here makes you sweat just standing in the shade. Another meal, and then more chilling out!

Occasionally we will stroll to another of the bars in the area for a healthy fruit-shake. There is a DVD player and big wide screen TV in the camps restaurant/communal area, so many nights we all get together and watch pirate DVDs, as there are hundreds left over from previous students.

It's a hard life her during the week.

We get Saturdays off from training, so Friday nights we start off at a bamboo and teak bar/restaurant where we are like old friends with the staff (who love to consistently beat all of us trainees at chess).
All the bars here favor short mattress and pillows over chairs, and have a no-shoes policy, so we laze barefoot here for some time, before eventually going to another bar, a 10 minute walk into the jungle. Here it's the same score with the wooden construction and barefoot-lying- down thing. However, most people are giving it berries on the dancefloor, bottles of water in their hands and slack-jawed, happy-vacant looks on their faces.

Whatever you do, don't order the mushroom shake here.

The trance and house music booms until 7am, but due to the beer, I'm usually incoherent by midnight and snoring in our bungalow by 2am.

Occasionally we make the excursion to Haad Rin, a bank and shopping run for vitals such as electrolyte powders, soft-drinks and toilet paper (rarely used, as the, ahem, Indian/Thai way does the job nicely for me. Do try it before you judge!). We get to access the net there, and make any phone calls needed, as there is no reception where we are. Full to the brim with fellow farangs, sports-bars, 7-11's etc, its a relief to leave Haad Rin and get back to our tranquil, isolated piece of paradise.

Life is great here. It's easy, relaxed, and the muay thai training is second to none, as everyone has been fighting or training in Muay Thai since they were children, such is the culture here.
I now only drink occasionally and smoking messes with my training, so I rarely bother.

Simply put, it's a beautiful, healthy, peaceful peice of paradise for me.

I just wish we had longer here...