Day 5: In the Ring with Kevan Spanton
December 29th, 2009
* This is a special edition of In Deep Curry, brought to you by the
diary epic journal of masculinity of one Kevan Brett Spanton, cage fighter, Englishman and all-around fantastic gent. What follows is his telling of Day Five.
I woke up under a sleeping bag with Marty – not the ideal way to start the day. I can honestly say death would be the only world to describe how I felt. But then again when you’re the only ones on the beach what else is there to do but take a quick dip in the ocean and destroy a few fried egg sarnies. We chilled out for a bit and then got back on the boat to go back to Phi Phi. I got burnt really bad yesterday on the boat from Phuket so all I wanted to do was hide from the sun. Needless to say the boat back was not good. The fact that we couldn’t get into our hotel for another two hours just made it worse (Editor’s note: Waiting for a clean room sucks).
So we hit the hotel pool and dove in – officially the best thing I could have done. The pool overlooked the beach and the ocean and the view was fantastic. At last I could do what I wanted – nothing! We spent the day pissing about in the pool until around five. I decided to get away from everyone for a little bit and go for a wander (Editor’s note: we were sick of Kev’s BS and told him to bugger off). As I was hung over to shit when I arrived it was good to get a feel for the island. I didn’t realize how small it actually was; you could walk from the beach to the port on the other side in ten minutes. The island had a really relaxed feel but then again when the main roads are the size of a path in Korea what else can you expect. There were loads of little food stalls with some good and some not so good looking food for sale. There also seemed to be a ridiculous amount of tattoo shops as well. The rest of the ‘center’ of the island seemed to be made up of bars and restaurants; definitely not a bad thing.
After a quick shower it was dinner time and I was definitely ready to get back on it. Marty’s mate Brendy G took us to the smallest restaurant on the island – who the hells knows that the name of this place was. It was decorated with old newspaper and Polaroid photos, the kind you’d find in a twice-convicted sex offenders diary. I had the best and biggest Pad Thai I’ve ever had for less the 2 quid. Everyone else felt like shit and left their food so I cleaned up and sampled everything – Thai food is awesome. Brendy took us down to the beach so we could chill, have a few beers and watch the fire throwers.
Fuck me, some of the things they were doing. I couldn’t even do that with a stick never mind a stick on fire. People from the audience got up to have a go but I like my body unburned.
Phil and Parker wanted to go and watch the Thai boxing so we headed off there. As soon as we got in the place I was itching to have a go as you could fight another “foreigner” if you wanted (Editor’s note: Kev wouldn’t fight me. Pussy). We watched some Thai guys have a sparring session for show and then some big guy fight against some guy who clearly did a martial art. The big guy did nothing but take the piss but it was funny and he won in the end. A few of the group were chirping at me to get in the ring so I thought fuck it! I ended up fighting a Swedish guy who had never fought before. I had Marty screaming in my corner and I pummeled the guy, he quit at the end of the first round. I even got a free bucket for my troubles. Zach wanted in as well so eventually he got a match up. Marty was again in the corner but I was there to try and give some technical advice to back Marty’s motivational shouting. Zach won in two rounds but there wasn’t much kickboxing involved just lots of trading as Zach referred to it (“trading” is US Military code for pounding another man to a bloody pulp).
I was ready to get smashed now so we hit the beach again. It was bouncing and then all of a sudden the music stopped because of some trouble a few nights ago (Editor’s note: one Thai drug peddler shot another Thai drug peddler so the Tourist Police shut a big club down. Can’t have the white faces involved in anything unsavory!). We ended up wandering around trying to find somewhere but not much was happening. I ended up losing everyone and wandering from group to group. My last memory was sitting with a group with an iPod playing and singing till whatever time I went back to the hotel. Nothing wrong with that.