With the first week of training over and a few of the fighters leaving, the big boss was kind enough to bring us all to the local Thai buffet. For those who have never been, a Thai buffet consists of a large pot where everyone at the table puts in various slices of meat, veg and so on, enjoying the food and making a delicious broth in the process and everyone keeps putting in and taking out until we are all quite stuffed. It's quite an intimate affair, with everyone filling each others glass and bowl.
Anyway, my plan to hide down the back and enjoy the doss with the aid of a few beers was scuppered when I bumped into Mr. B and I turned up a bit late. Long story short, I was sat beside the local Mafia boss and his impossibly good looking girlfriend. So I got to walk the tightrope that is being charming enough to a gangsters moll so no-one thinks I am disrespecting her, but not so charming that I am awarded a new pair of cement boots. The words ‘best’ and ‘behaviour’ raced around my head for the whole night. As did the expression, ‘gangland style execution’ and ‘headless corpse found in river’. Needless to say I was delighted when they decided to call it a night.
The same week saw the arrival of two pals to Chiang Mai. Gavin me old Pal from Dublin and Jenny, a girl I used to box with back in the dodgy old lock up in Mountjoy square. Largely because of Jenny’s enthusiasm I got right into the training and have been there ever since. We had decided before that we would check out Gav’s gym and so we went up to Pai to have a look.
The road to Pai is in two parts. One is a motorway. The other puts the ring of Kerry to shame. We went through 100 km of up-and-down and round-and-round, and in some places non-existent, road and we were down to the fumes in the tank of our 100cc automatic moped. The whole thing took about 5 hours and my ass felt like it had gone 15 rounds with Tyson. Or his cellmate.
Pai is a lovely little town, which would be heaven on earth if it had a beach. And a tower, from which snipers worked in shifts, to shoot all the hippies. God almighty I have never met a more pretentious bunch of emotionally needy feckers in my life. It’s almost like there’s a competition to see who can be the most laid back, painfully eclectic wierdo in the locale. Fortunately, the gym had a lovely bunch of people in it, so that kind of made it ok. Emphasis on the kind of. As for training, I have never had anything like it. World class doesn't cover it. I am almost reluctant to talk it up so that I can keep the trainers to myself. The training really is that good. It’s the most technique orientated gym I’ve ever been to. If I could fault it, it’s that there isn’t much emphasis on cardio and I definitely noticed the difference it made. This gym has quite a structured class, so conditioning really has to be done beforehand by you. But hey, no one said it was going to be easy.
Despite its small size I did find it hard to negotiate my way around Pai, but eventually I started to recognize the odd place. We were staying with a friend of ours in a house, that for reasons that are beyond the scope of modern science, was built in a mangrove. The insects are naming it an official holiday after the feast of Irish blood that was laid on for them.
All too soon it was Thursday and time to head back to Chiang Mai. This time I flew solo as Jenny took the bus and, to my eternal delight, all the luggage, so I got to drive the most challenging road, with the most beautiful scenery I’ve ever seen. I hummed Steppenwolf all the way. On my Honda Click. Oh, the shame.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Business as usual...
Well my first week back was a bit of a washout to start. Took me most of the week to get my head in the right place for training and I really only got a hold on it yesterday. I've had a woman on my mind so much, that it didn't really dawn on me till this afternoon, the enormity of what I am doing. I think part of why my head was so fried was I didn't realise how daunting the prospect of another year of fighting was. Now that I have I've put it to one side, reminding myself that this year can only be an improvement on the last.
I realised that although my head's not where it should be, there's no reason my body should have to keep it company, so I've got stuck into the training. Trained today til my lungs were blowing like a blast furnace and a tightness in my chest not unlike red hot needles. It's good to be back.
Saw a couple of good fights this week, first George, 'the cruel bull', from Spain or Ess-pain as he says. This was a total war and saw George claw back a decisive victory in the fifth on points. It was close until the last two minutes and then George let go with a series of hard shots that clinched him a unanimous decision. The other fight this week was a young English chap called Ben. Ben's a lovely fella with an equally lovely girlfriend, Emma. He looked as confident as any first-time-fighter I've ever seen, and she as nervous as any first-time-fighters-girlfriend I've ever seen. But she took it well and Ben gave a great account of himself. His nerves maybe kept him a bit tense at the start, and I shouted myself hoarse telling him to keep his guard up, but he kept an unrelenting attack on his Thai opponent who I believe has over 10 fights. A series of unanswered leg kicks, mixed with a liberal sprinkling of heavy hands, with a cracker (literally and figuratively) of a knee thrown in, led Ben to a second round TKO. A prouder smile I have never seen, nor a more relieved girlfriend for that matter.
Since I've got back I've noticed a marked increase in the number of cops out on patrol too. Mind you, they're still nowhere to be found late at night, or indeed, when raining. But the criminals who favour bright, clear afternoons to burgle must be crapping themselves. I even got pulled over the other night but fortunately, the cop didn't have enough English to question me so I sped on my way.
Unless this is your first visit to my blog, you will recall that the hospital e-mailed me after a hepatitis related blood test. The mail read 'You are Mr. David who have blood test with us today? there has been complication. We need to talk.' Anyone else terrified? Anyway, I went along as soon as I could to be told, that the complication we need to talk about was could I pay in installments, not in a lump sum at the end? Any suggestions for ironic revenge, greatly appreciated.
So tomorrows plan is to head up to Pai and scope out the gym up there. I have a feeling it's going to be a better place, based on a few conversations with some seasoned boxers who are in the vicinity. It's as much a recce for them now as for myself. The idea this year is to follow the training, so as soon as one gym starts to lose it's edge, I am gone to the next place. I'm getting too old to develop a loyalty to a second class gym.
The other reason I go to Pai, is to hook up with me very good pal from back home Gav. Gavin once beat up a dozen ostrich chicks for the laugh. So it's up to him for a few days then back to Chiang Mai to watch him fight on Monday night, then back to Pai I guess. I won't have got much time in at the gym so I don't know if I'll move up straight away. I'm now at a crossroads. The gym in Pai has better trainers but the gym in Chiang Mai is nearly empty again, which means a lot more time with the coaches. Decisions, decisions....
I realised that although my head's not where it should be, there's no reason my body should have to keep it company, so I've got stuck into the training. Trained today til my lungs were blowing like a blast furnace and a tightness in my chest not unlike red hot needles. It's good to be back.
Saw a couple of good fights this week, first George, 'the cruel bull', from Spain or Ess-pain as he says. This was a total war and saw George claw back a decisive victory in the fifth on points. It was close until the last two minutes and then George let go with a series of hard shots that clinched him a unanimous decision. The other fight this week was a young English chap called Ben. Ben's a lovely fella with an equally lovely girlfriend, Emma. He looked as confident as any first-time-fighter I've ever seen, and she as nervous as any first-time-fighters-girlfriend I've ever seen. But she took it well and Ben gave a great account of himself. His nerves maybe kept him a bit tense at the start, and I shouted myself hoarse telling him to keep his guard up, but he kept an unrelenting attack on his Thai opponent who I believe has over 10 fights. A series of unanswered leg kicks, mixed with a liberal sprinkling of heavy hands, with a cracker (literally and figuratively) of a knee thrown in, led Ben to a second round TKO. A prouder smile I have never seen, nor a more relieved girlfriend for that matter.
Since I've got back I've noticed a marked increase in the number of cops out on patrol too. Mind you, they're still nowhere to be found late at night, or indeed, when raining. But the criminals who favour bright, clear afternoons to burgle must be crapping themselves. I even got pulled over the other night but fortunately, the cop didn't have enough English to question me so I sped on my way.
Unless this is your first visit to my blog, you will recall that the hospital e-mailed me after a hepatitis related blood test. The mail read 'You are Mr. David who have blood test with us today? there has been complication. We need to talk.' Anyone else terrified? Anyway, I went along as soon as I could to be told, that the complication we need to talk about was could I pay in installments, not in a lump sum at the end? Any suggestions for ironic revenge, greatly appreciated.
So tomorrows plan is to head up to Pai and scope out the gym up there. I have a feeling it's going to be a better place, based on a few conversations with some seasoned boxers who are in the vicinity. It's as much a recce for them now as for myself. The idea this year is to follow the training, so as soon as one gym starts to lose it's edge, I am gone to the next place. I'm getting too old to develop a loyalty to a second class gym.
The other reason I go to Pai, is to hook up with me very good pal from back home Gav. Gavin once beat up a dozen ostrich chicks for the laugh. So it's up to him for a few days then back to Chiang Mai to watch him fight on Monday night, then back to Pai I guess. I won't have got much time in at the gym so I don't know if I'll move up straight away. I'm now at a crossroads. The gym in Pai has better trainers but the gym in Chiang Mai is nearly empty again, which means a lot more time with the coaches. Decisions, decisions....
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The Triumphant Return!!
Well, I was back about 20 minutes before I was being hailed as a superstar! Admittedly, she was only trying to get me to stay at her hotel but it's nice to feel wanted. She went bonkers when she found out I was a boxer. Thank god, she said. All my friends reckoned you were Yakuza. Yes love, I'm Yakuza. I run the Dublin branch. And travel economy. And stay in rat infested Hotels like the one you're trying to bring me to.
So back in Bangkok an hour at this stage, and already it tries to sap at my happiness reservoir. The locals take it in turns to try and gouge me and I am forced to keep an ever vigilant guard against anyone who looks remotely happy, because smiling faces usually means I'm about to offered the deal of a lifetime on a Rolex, or a luggage set, or the hind quarters of two teen girls or whatever else they think you'll put your hand in your pocket for. 'There's daggers in men's smiles', as Shakespeare once said and I am now certain he was in Thailand when he coined that. But I refuse to have me head wrecked, so I stay out way past bedtime and get up to all sorts of shenanigans before retreating to my 'hotel'. I say hotel but it looks like a set from Angela's Ashes, to be honest.
The following day, I am back at the airport and am pleasantly surprised to get a great deal from Thai Air (usually the most expensive) of all people. They even throw in a slice of edible fruitcake.
Actually, before I continue I have to ask... who are all those people who get their luggage off the rack before me? What time do you put it on the plane? How early do I have to be to get my bags first? Have you ever met anyone who didn't have to wait for a bag? There's a joke in there somewhere, but right now all I want is my fecking stuff! So, straight on the plane and it's off to Chiang Mai with me. Within an hour and a half of leaving Bangkok, I am at Chay-Yai gym with the head trainer instantly recognising me and interrupting his afternoon smoke to help me out of the car with the bags. I am sure he must need a fighter soon. Or a lend of some money. Then the local fixer comes along and we go flat hunting. To be honest one apartment is pretty much the same as the next out here so I take the first one with internet access.
I head down to the gym for the afternoon session but more to shake of the cobwebs than launch a triumphant return, despite what you may have read in the title a moment ago. While there I am inundated with well wishers, including local cops, shopkeepers ( the mama-san I used to live beside in particular) and even the local Mafia Boss. Between them they manage to raise a smile on my otherwise dour face.
With that all in order, I take off to organise my other essentials, specifically; Inoculations and mobile phone. And I've been dying to catch up with Mr. B since I left London. I have to do all of this on a bike that has only the loosest affiliation with the term vehicle. Light enough to be carried under one arm, held together with spit and you'd have to talk it into going over 50kmh. I end up having to stretch it over 2 days as I'm just too late to catch most stuff on the Saturday. So now it is Sunday night* and I am back to work in the morning. Actually, it is more accurately Monday morning, but a combination of adrenalin and the introspection that follows a break up have me wide awake.
I get the distinct impression that it's going to be a hard day at the office...
*Note- I wrote this entry on Sunday night but couldn't get to an internet connection until today. The hospital have also e-mailed me regarding my blood test. We need to talk, it seems. Never a good thing when it comes to blood tests.
So back in Bangkok an hour at this stage, and already it tries to sap at my happiness reservoir. The locals take it in turns to try and gouge me and I am forced to keep an ever vigilant guard against anyone who looks remotely happy, because smiling faces usually means I'm about to offered the deal of a lifetime on a Rolex, or a luggage set, or the hind quarters of two teen girls or whatever else they think you'll put your hand in your pocket for. 'There's daggers in men's smiles', as Shakespeare once said and I am now certain he was in Thailand when he coined that. But I refuse to have me head wrecked, so I stay out way past bedtime and get up to all sorts of shenanigans before retreating to my 'hotel'. I say hotel but it looks like a set from Angela's Ashes, to be honest.
The following day, I am back at the airport and am pleasantly surprised to get a great deal from Thai Air (usually the most expensive) of all people. They even throw in a slice of edible fruitcake.
Actually, before I continue I have to ask... who are all those people who get their luggage off the rack before me? What time do you put it on the plane? How early do I have to be to get my bags first? Have you ever met anyone who didn't have to wait for a bag? There's a joke in there somewhere, but right now all I want is my fecking stuff! So, straight on the plane and it's off to Chiang Mai with me. Within an hour and a half of leaving Bangkok, I am at Chay-Yai gym with the head trainer instantly recognising me and interrupting his afternoon smoke to help me out of the car with the bags. I am sure he must need a fighter soon. Or a lend of some money. Then the local fixer comes along and we go flat hunting. To be honest one apartment is pretty much the same as the next out here so I take the first one with internet access.
I head down to the gym for the afternoon session but more to shake of the cobwebs than launch a triumphant return, despite what you may have read in the title a moment ago. While there I am inundated with well wishers, including local cops, shopkeepers ( the mama-san I used to live beside in particular) and even the local Mafia Boss. Between them they manage to raise a smile on my otherwise dour face.
With that all in order, I take off to organise my other essentials, specifically; Inoculations and mobile phone. And I've been dying to catch up with Mr. B since I left London. I have to do all of this on a bike that has only the loosest affiliation with the term vehicle. Light enough to be carried under one arm, held together with spit and you'd have to talk it into going over 50kmh. I end up having to stretch it over 2 days as I'm just too late to catch most stuff on the Saturday. So now it is Sunday night* and I am back to work in the morning. Actually, it is more accurately Monday morning, but a combination of adrenalin and the introspection that follows a break up have me wide awake.
I get the distinct impression that it's going to be a hard day at the office...
*Note- I wrote this entry on Sunday night but couldn't get to an internet connection until today. The hospital have also e-mailed me regarding my blood test. We need to talk, it seems. Never a good thing when it comes to blood tests.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Where there's sand...
I spent the next few days, hanging out with Pedro but unfortunately, for me anyway, Pedro was too busy driving all over the Emirates and I was too tired so we didn't get to hang out as much as we wanted but still enough to catch up.
Now the, anyone who thinks there not really pulling their weight, carbon footprint wise, need only compare themselves to the Emirates. It is not uncommon to walk through a Mall parking lot and notice that some of the cars are left ticking over so the car doesn't get too warm. And I'm not talking about popping in to get a few lottery tickets.
Now, unaccustomed as I am to having a go at anything, I feel obliged to raise the following questions; what is the deal with those hajib things? I get that Muslim women have that hair taboo and don't like to show it in public, but can I assume the women in full masks aren't bothered shaving? I would also like to point out the folly contained in having a fully clothed at all times taboo, while living in the hottest place on earth. It is so hot there, I was afraid to spit in case I needed the moisture in a hurry.
Got the chance of a lifetime to train at the Abu Dhabi combat club which I jumped at. We put some serious miles on the clock and eventually made it to the club. I was determined not to make a show of myself and gave a pretty good account against two local lads. Then I was dismantled by Marcio, the Brazilian. So good was he that he was able to hold a full conversation with me during the fight. Including telling me why the move I was trying wouldn't work, what he was going to use to counter it and why I wouldn't be able to stop him. All of this at25kgs my junior. Made it home, beaten, but not broken and had a Mickey D's to cheer myself up. That was it for the Emirates, it was time to pack and move the adventure forward.
Anyway, before that could happen I had to jump through hoops for the nice people at Dubai airport. Ironically, the girl whom I had to impress enough that she'd bend the rules was named Clara. An unnecessarily cruel jibe by the cosmos I thought, but there you are. Luckily I was much better at it this time round. And finally I was Thailand bound...
Now the, anyone who thinks there not really pulling their weight, carbon footprint wise, need only compare themselves to the Emirates. It is not uncommon to walk through a Mall parking lot and notice that some of the cars are left ticking over so the car doesn't get too warm. And I'm not talking about popping in to get a few lottery tickets.
Now, unaccustomed as I am to having a go at anything, I feel obliged to raise the following questions; what is the deal with those hajib things? I get that Muslim women have that hair taboo and don't like to show it in public, but can I assume the women in full masks aren't bothered shaving? I would also like to point out the folly contained in having a fully clothed at all times taboo, while living in the hottest place on earth. It is so hot there, I was afraid to spit in case I needed the moisture in a hurry.
Got the chance of a lifetime to train at the Abu Dhabi combat club which I jumped at. We put some serious miles on the clock and eventually made it to the club. I was determined not to make a show of myself and gave a pretty good account against two local lads. Then I was dismantled by Marcio, the Brazilian. So good was he that he was able to hold a full conversation with me during the fight. Including telling me why the move I was trying wouldn't work, what he was going to use to counter it and why I wouldn't be able to stop him. All of this at25kgs my junior. Made it home, beaten, but not broken and had a Mickey D's to cheer myself up. That was it for the Emirates, it was time to pack and move the adventure forward.
Anyway, before that could happen I had to jump through hoops for the nice people at Dubai airport. Ironically, the girl whom I had to impress enough that she'd bend the rules was named Clara. An unnecessarily cruel jibe by the cosmos I thought, but there you are. Luckily I was much better at it this time round. And finally I was Thailand bound...
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Dubai or not Dubai?
That is the question. Yep, it's Dubai. So, with London behind me I head on to sunny Dubai. Anyone whose never been to the middle east but would like to experience it need only scald themselves repeatedly. Seriously, it was 29 degrees centigrade. Underground. At 4 am.
Got off the plane, got me bags and what not, went as far as customs and then started a cold sweat. Here's why; I'm definitely not stupid enough to try and bring old Mary Jane into the country but I am easily stupid enough to forget a half a dube in a coat pocket and that dawned on me as I started answering a serious of border guard questions. He was cool though and I had nothing on me, although I imagine there'd be a lot said if some of the more *ahem* 'specialist' movies on my hard drive were to find their way into a courtroom. Anyway, went to the arrival hall to seek out Pedro, who viewers of my last blog will remember as the Brazilian with the penchant for mental driving.
So, after a wee while, Pedro found me and we drove through the desert for a looooong time, re-telling our favourite Thailand stories to his pal Marcio (pronounced Mash-ee-oh) although they were as much for ourselves I guess, until we got to Pedro's place. Stunning scenery all the way too. I wouldn't have thought a dessert could look so intresting. There are few sights I've seen that compare with the sun rising over an endless dune sea. An odd beauty in the desolation, if you will. Like a hot chick in a car accident.
Now, I say Pedro has a 'place' but I really mean palace. Every door opens into a room that's bigger than most flats I've ever had. After nearly 40 hours awake, I was jacked so naturally I fell right asleep. After only a few hours of staring at the ceiling. And a couple of Tom Hanks. Natch.
Woke up today, decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and got the eyes back on the prize. Hit the gym with the boys after a wee dip in a swanky spa and went for a slap up feed. Now, I'm ready to flake, so that's just what I'll do.
Night y'all.
Got off the plane, got me bags and what not, went as far as customs and then started a cold sweat. Here's why; I'm definitely not stupid enough to try and bring old Mary Jane into the country but I am easily stupid enough to forget a half a dube in a coat pocket and that dawned on me as I started answering a serious of border guard questions. He was cool though and I had nothing on me, although I imagine there'd be a lot said if some of the more *ahem* 'specialist' movies on my hard drive were to find their way into a courtroom. Anyway, went to the arrival hall to seek out Pedro, who viewers of my last blog will remember as the Brazilian with the penchant for mental driving.
So, after a wee while, Pedro found me and we drove through the desert for a looooong time, re-telling our favourite Thailand stories to his pal Marcio (pronounced Mash-ee-oh) although they were as much for ourselves I guess, until we got to Pedro's place. Stunning scenery all the way too. I wouldn't have thought a dessert could look so intresting. There are few sights I've seen that compare with the sun rising over an endless dune sea. An odd beauty in the desolation, if you will. Like a hot chick in a car accident.
Now, I say Pedro has a 'place' but I really mean palace. Every door opens into a room that's bigger than most flats I've ever had. After nearly 40 hours awake, I was jacked so naturally I fell right asleep. After only a few hours of staring at the ceiling. And a couple of Tom Hanks. Natch.
Woke up today, decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and got the eyes back on the prize. Hit the gym with the boys after a wee dip in a swanky spa and went for a slap up feed. Now, I'm ready to flake, so that's just what I'll do.
Night y'all.
London Calling
Although in hindsight I really wish it hadn't bothered. So, went over to London on my way to Thailand to see my lady friend. Instead of the mix of passion and romance I was expecting, I instead spent the weekend running errands, watching her sleep and listening to her endless whinging about absolutely everything in London. A constantly changing goalpost meant nothing was up to scratch and to top it all off I then had to listen to what an insensitive bastard I was. Nice. For example she told me for 3 weeks straight how she really needed to be hugged and when I tried she threw me a look look like I was a Bosnian war criminal. And to be honest I could have forgiven all of that if a) she hadn't invited me over in the first place and b) she had once said 'good to see you', 'nice to have you here', or indeed anything that wasn't an attack on the personality she had found so endearing the last 3 months. The final straw came when she made a few horrible remarks about the sort of person she thinks I am, i.e. an annoying, condescending bully, and I knew that it was way past time I hit the road. And it was still the hardest thing I ever had to do.
So packed my bags, took what was left of my dignity, stormed out and went and stayed with some mates on the other side of London, where I received more affection from a cat than from the girl I'd been dating. Not having thought my storming off through, I left a load of stuff behind, which ended up costing me just over a hundred pounds to get back, in travel and missed flights. A fitting end to what can only be described as the worst weekend of my entire life. Not the most auspicious start to my latest adventure, but at least I was on my way...
So packed my bags, took what was left of my dignity, stormed out and went and stayed with some mates on the other side of London, where I received more affection from a cat than from the girl I'd been dating. Not having thought my storming off through, I left a load of stuff behind, which ended up costing me just over a hundred pounds to get back, in travel and missed flights. A fitting end to what can only be described as the worst weekend of my entire life. Not the most auspicious start to my latest adventure, but at least I was on my way...
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