Market Data 
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Ralph Beale, 60, the British-born founder of Lamai Muay Thai Camp in Koh Samui, Thailand. His words have been edited for length and clarity.
I never felt at home in the West and always knew I wanted to leave.
I was born in the UK with mixed Asian-European heritage. During a trip to Koh Samui in my 30s, I could tell that Thailand was where I belonged.
Now, 27 years later, I’ve built a life here — helped grow Muay Thai internationally from the motherland itself, raised a family, and witnessed the island’s transformation.
I have no regrets.
A future in Thailand
By the early ’80s, I had found my fix: Thailand, specifically Muay Thai.
At the time, few in the West knew about the brutal elegance of Thai boxing, and I was hooked. I bounced between the UK and Thailand, training, learning, and absorbing everything I could.
The country had a magnetism I couldn’t shake, and by 1998, I stopped trying. I opened a tiny Muay Thai camp on Koh Samui’s Lamai Beach back when there were more palm trees than tourists. For a few years, my time was split between England and Thailand.
My wife, who had initially been one of my Muay Thai students in the UK before joining a training trip to Thailand, had fallen for the island just as I had.
After getting married on the island in 2003, we agreed that our future wasn’t in the UK but in Thailand.
Raising kids in Samui
When we moved to Samui in early 2004 our son was 6 months old.
Raising kids in Samui meant giving them something Western city life couldn’t — space, freedom, and an outdoor existence. My son and daughter, now in their 20s, had childhoods filled with sun and sea, as well as a Cambridge education.
I live in Lamai with my family, in a house I built 18 years ago, nestled in a coconut grove. With my background in construction, I designed it as a Thai-modern, Western-style pool house — five bedrooms upstairs, two on the ground floor.
Paradise discovered
Of course, nothing stays untouched. In the late ’90s, the arrival of a private airport on Samui changed everything, making it far easier for tourists to reach the island.
What was once an “if you know, you know” island became a fixture on the global travel circuit. The beaches still glow, and the sea still shimmers, but Samui has evolved — it had to.
More expats arrived, more high-end resorts opened, and with them came that creeping feeling that paradise, once discovered, never quite stays the same.
The “White Lotus effect” hasn’t arrived yet
Then came “The White Lotus.”
If the Leonardo DiCaprio-fueled frenzy around “The Beach” — released 25 years ago — did wonders (and damage) to Maya Bay, a cove on an island southeast of Phuket, what would HBO’s glossy, satirical take on island luxury do to Samui?
The short answer: it’s too early to tell. There’s chatter. There’s curiosity. But the real impact won’t hit until the next high season rolls around — typically between December and April.
If handled right, it could be a boost. If handled wrong — well, I’ve seen what unchecked tourism does to fragile ecosystems. Let’s hope we’ve learned our lesson.
The party scene on Samui has always been a draw, though it’s never reached the wild heights of nearby places like Phuket or Pattaya. The island has its share of lively beach clubs, late-night bars, and, of course, the legendary Full Moon Party just a boat ride away on Koh Pha-ngan — a monthly spectacle of neon, fire dancers, and thousands of revelers dancing till dawn.
One of these parties was featured in an episode of “The White Lotus.”
If the show attracts a fresh wave of visitors, let’s hope they come for more than cocktails and Instagram shots.
Despite the changes, Samui still has something rare: restraint. There are building restrictions; nothing taller than a coconut tree. There’s a commitment to keeping nature as part of the island’s identity. It’s more expensive than before, but it hasn’t lost itself.
I never want to leave
I’ve built a life in Thailand that makes sense. I’m mortgage-free and work because I want to, not because I have to.
Muay Thai, once my passion, became my contribution to a sport that’s now globally recognized. I still travel, but Samui is my constant.
If I had stayed in the UK, my life would have been different — probably more financially stable, but maybe not as fulfilling.
At some point, you realize what really matters. For me, that was quality of life. I was lucky enough to make that decision early.
I value my health over wealth. I’ve done well enough to look after myself, and these days, my focus isn’t on my bank balance. I still work, but much of it is voluntary.
Samui gave me a life I don’t need a break from — that, to me, is real success.
