I had a short but sound sleep in my cabin room. Before the journey to boxing camp I pop by to boxing shop to buy fighting gear. The shop I went to was small and dusty, run by family with good atmosphere. I was told that their daughter is a robot and I canteen gloves on her. Didn't get the joke. Next up, I head up to the domestic airport. I chosen to fly to Phuket and make my way from there. 10 minutes later I got my ticket and within next 10 minutes I was already sitting in a plane full of European tourists ready to departure. One hour later I was already in a scumbag Phuket's taxi which dropped me off at the highway. I was advised to wave my hand to any bus driver who should stop and pick me up. This didn't happen. Apparently I used the wrong gesture. After some time a truck stopped next to me. It was "Eck", or as he was referring to himself "hero Eck". He had a day off and was going to visit his fisherman friend to buy some fishes for the barbecue. We bargain a bit and and agreed that he will take me to the next village which is 100 kilometres from Phuket. We quickly left, passing by westernised bar, resorts and infrastructure built for tourist. While driving in a old pickup car without AC and broken fan, he showed me around. He dropped me off at the bus station. Old Mercedes-Benz to Khura Buri was already waiting to take off. The landscape there was notably different. I was entering rural area in a deep jungle. It was getting dark when I finally arrived to Khura Buri. I had a last piece to Ao-Koei beach to make. I was lucky enough to find last scooter taxi in a one street town. We were driving in the dark through the jungle and all I could see was road signs with tsunami hazard warning. Old men almost got us killed. While he was picking up his nose, other truck full of sand came up from the other side, he started sneezing and we lost the balance. Uff, no injuries. Suddenly we arrived...

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