Man Among Gods

Saturday night marks the end of another week surviving the madness that is Muay Thai. I celebrate this small win over dinner at Maya Beach Club with Ollie and Phin, our thankfully non-Russian friend.

The restaurant is filled with Instagram models wearing plastic accessories – not on them but in them – and their roid-head counterparts that I can’t seem to escape.

I’ve sampled many of the 14 classes in the Bangtao program over the last three weeks, and I’ve finally found a way to steer clear of my dear friend Drago.

Monday, Wednesday and Friday start with yoga, where Ollie and I share the same sour expression each time we’re asked to fold into the types of contortions you’d find on the front of a Twister box.

After yoga is my favourite class, Bangtao Fit. I finish each Hyrox-style circuit on my back, momentarily immobilised from the five minutes of core that Coach Woody likes to call ‘the cherry on top.’

The day ends with Bangtao Run Club right off the back of strength and conditioning. Monday is leg day, so it’s more of a shuffle club.

Tuesdays and Thursdays start with Muay Thai. There’s no better way to wake up than with a few jabs to the noggin. Like a shot of espresso.

And in the evening, Ollie drags me to Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, which he didn’t care to mention he’s been training for three years. I guess I can’t beat him in everything.

‘Your mango daquiris,’ says our friendly barefoot waiter as she delivers three bright orange cocktails that are almost as vibrant as the sun setting over the Andaman Sea.

I try to edge closer to the table, but my feet don’t gain much traction in the powdery white sand of Bangtao Beach. This sure beats a Boost juice in the Indooroopilly Shopping Centre food court.

I raise my glass. ‘Cheers to week three,’ I say to the boys, who are trying not to stare as two haughty Hispanic gents prance along the shoreline on horseback, their unbuttoned Hawaiian shirts dancing in the Phuket breeze. There’s no shortage of entertainment around here.

The journey home from dinner is simple: walk five minutes down the beach, take a left through Arinara Resort – which we’ve done enough times for security to believe we’re guests – and another left along the home stretch, eyes down past the feeding frenzy of so-called masseuses and their recycled catcalls.

‘Heyyy big strong boy!’

If only I got this kind of attention in Burleigh.

Before we reach our villa, we make the walk of shame through the gym as the Greek Gods glare at us with condescension while they get their after-hour reps in. There’s three of them in the weights room tonight.

Zeus is bench-pressing three plates a side, Poseidon is taking a shirtless selfie of his eight to twelve abs, and Hades is bicep-curling 30kg dumbbells in each arm.

My dumbbell of choice tonight is a cookies & cream Cornetto from 7 Eleven. Ollie opted for an Almond Magnum. Excellent choice.

In just one week I’ll make my last walk of shame through the Bangtao gym before I head north to Ranong, a place I’ll call home for two months. So, don’t go anywhere. My journey has only just begun.