Why I Live and Train in Thailand: My First Time in the Land of Smiles

The first time I set foot in Thailand was back in 2011.

My boyfriend at the time, Beppe, had received a job offer from a company in Friuli that had a branch here in Thailand, and I, having been his partner for more than ten years, was absolutely thrilled about it.

At the Satori gym in Gorizia, Giorgio and Armen would constantly share stories about Thailand during our runs before training sessions—at least thirty minutes every day. In my mind, I had built my own image of that country, and little by little it had become a place I dreamed of visiting.

When this opportunity came up, I immediately told Beppe that he couldn't turn it down. If everything went well, we would settle down and move there.

He left first, and about a month and a half later, in mid-June, I joined him.

The destination was Pattaya. Not exactly the most popular place among traditional tourists, as it is best known for being the city most closely associated with sex tourism in Thailand.

I was thirty years old.

My flight landed in Bangkok, and I still remember perfectly the feeling I had the moment I stepped out of the airport.

It's difficult to explain.

I had never seen anything like that place before. I had no idea that Suvarnabhumi Airport would eventually become one of the airports I would pass through most often in my life. The language was completely different, the faces were different, everything was new.

And yet, I immediately felt at home.

I took a bus to Pattaya, following Beppe’s instructions: get off at a specific stop and then either walk to the hotel or take a taxi if I had any trouble finding my way.

I was absolutely thrilled to be there.

First and foremost for him, but also for this new adventure.

Even though I had barely slept at all during the flight, I felt full of energy and curiosity.

Then came my first real encounter with Thailand.

Or rather, with the heat of the rainy season.

After less than ten minutes of walking with my suitcase, with no proper sidewalks, surrounded by sticky tropical heat and the chaos of food vendors, taxis, and traffic—something completely unfamiliar to me at the time—I finally arrived at the hotel.

Completely drenched in sweat.

With my very limited English, I asked for my room key at the reception, while apologizing profusely for showing up in such a state.

That first day was special to me. I’m a very simple person, and I often judge things based on instinct and first impressions.

I liked Thailand immediately.

For the first few months, the company had provided Beppe with a room in a four-star hotel with a swimming pool.

To me, it felt like a dream come true.

The first thing I did was look for a Muay Thai gym.

I immediately ruled out Fairtex, even though it was located practically next door to the hotel. At the time, I considered it too commercial.

I was looking for something authentic.

A camp with no air conditioning, no trendy brands, and no unnecessary frills.

One evening, while walking with Beppe toward downtown Pattaya, we passed by the RMB gym.

It was perfect.

We asked for information from a Thai guy who spoke about as much English as we did.

Prices, training schedules, and a few other basic details.

It was exactly how I imagined a real Muay Thai camp would be.

An open-air space.

A ring in the center.

Small rooms for trainers and fighters along the left-hand side.

Two bathrooms at the back.

Heavy bags lined up along the right-hand side.

Between the ring and the heavy bags, there was even a column wrapped in old tires that was used as a makeshift punching bag.

The very next morning, I was already there.

Ready to go for a run with the gym's fighters and trainers.

I still remember clearly that Nueng, my very first Kru—and, coincidentally, his nickname actually means “number one” in Thai—never showed up at the agreed time.

I called him on his cellphone.

No answer.

I later found out that he was still drunk from the night before.

The run was postponed until the following day.

Welcome to Thailand.

In the end, it wasn't a problem at all.

I went back to the hotel and spent the rest of the day by the pool like a true vacationer.

Nueng was a fighter himself.

He was very skilled.

He had already spent several years teaching in Australia, and today he lives there in Brisbane, where he has opened his own gym.

The RMB Team of Champions belonged to Rachid, a Frenchman of Algerian descent. If I remember correctly, the letters “R” and “M” in the gym’s name came from him and from the gym he had originally opened in France before establishing a branch in Thailand.

Most of my training partners were French.

And anyone who practices Muay Thai knows that French fighters have a strong reputation.

They are tough.

And they really were.

And there I was.

Happy.

In Thailand.

In love with Beppe.

In love with Muay Thai.

And excited to finally experience life in a real Thai camp.

I had three whole months ahead of me.

And I wanted to make the most of every single day.

Every day, I learned something new about Thailand.

I would wander around on my own.

Exploring.

I discovered just how freezing cold 7-Elevens could be—and how essential they were for surviving the tropical heat.

Beppe would also come to the gym in the evenings after work.

He mainly trained in boxing.

In the meantime, we had also become good friends with Rachid and the two Thai trainers, Nueng and Song.

I was always happy whenever we managed to train together.

It felt like nothing could ever change.

The love we felt for each other and our shared passion for combat sports seemed to make us even closer than before.

Or at least, that's what I thought. Looking back now, I'm convinced that Thailand would have found its way into my life sooner or later anyway.

With or without Beppe.

Because Muay Thai had already gotten under my skin.

Because the feelings I experienced the moment I arrived in the Land of Smiles were far too strong to ignore.

I don't believe much in coincidences.

I believe that many of the things that happen to us are part of a path greater than ourselves. A path that already exists and that, in some way, keeps calling to us until we decide to listen.

It's up to us to decide whether to ignore it or have the courage to follow it.

In my case, that path began the day I first set foot in Thailand.

Today, more than ten years after that first trip, I spend much of my year here. I've fought around eighty matches, trained in camps that back in 2011 I knew only through stories I had heard at the gym, met people who changed my life, and lived experiences that back then I couldn't even have imagined.

But whenever I think about where it all started, I always go back to that day.

A suitcase.

A bus bound for Pattaya.

A walk through the humid heat of the rainy season.

And that strange, inexplicable feeling of having come home to a place I had never seen before.