So you train by shadow boxing, search for the truth.

For the first time during our holiday we managed to get up early.

For anyone who’s struggled to jiggle their body into a full six hours in the future, I’m sure you’ll understand what a milestone this was.  We’d gone to bed to the sound of the Frog Chorus and woken up to the Dawn Chorus.

As is my wont, I was regretting booking a Muay Thai session due to the wine and dancing session the night before.  I did what I always do in such situations though and marched with purpose to the gym, pretending that I was in a movie. I find it helps.

After a coke in Soda Bar (Soda being the owner’s name) chatting to the staff and their friends, all either still drinking or sleeping off the previous night,  I did an hour of skipping and punching and kicking and elbowing and kneeing.

It was horrible and hilarious in equal measure. The trainer insisted on doing a video of the last round and I fear he will share it on his Facebook page as an example of how not to box, as he kept winking at the camera and describing what i had done, then got me to download Line and send it to him.

I regretted this as my phone kept pinging with photos of the trainer whilst I was trying to take a nice siesta.

In the afternoon me and Donna went for eyelashes at Number One Massage and Beauty Parlour. It’s basically a large concreted area by the beach with a fabric roof and lots of mattresses. It’s by a bar, so I like to take a glass of wine and relax during the treatment.

We failed in our quest because Donna was dubious of glue near her eyes and I couldn’t be arsed to spend an hour with my eyes shut.

Instead we opted for a foot massage.

I hate feet.

I hate people touching my feet.

Sometimes I’m a complete idiot.

After being scraped and squeezed and pummelled and shown some disgusting foot matter, I had my toenails painted whilst Donna had a face massage followed by the dabbing on and failed wiping off of white powder.  She looked, well,  different? I couldn’t stop laughing, and neither could the gentle smiling man who’d applied the powder.  ZaZa and my massage lady joined in, as did Donna, and it was a delight.  Just a bunch of people sitting by the sea giggling about something silly.

After our siesta we wandered out looking for food.  Donna chose the venue and it was perfect. 

Then Donna chose a little hidden bar for us to have our last drink at.

It was perfect.

Several glasses of wine, one tequila slammer, a good few dances, and one stint of me singing Oasis with the band,  and lots and lots of laughter (mainly at my expense) and we were ready to retire to bed because a day of hell was on the cards the following morning.

At least we’d had another wonderful memorable day in Ao Nang.

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