DAY 264: Sliding five storeys on my arse

22 May

IT’S my last day in Kuala Lumpur and I’m mad as a sack of seagulls after some hoohah from back home.

The last thing I want to do is take various forms of public transport alone to a far-flung suburb, get on a five-storey thrill-ride in a shopping mall without so much as a witness to squeal “Ooh! That was spectacular,” rush back to my hotel, get my suitcase and lug it to the airport for a long-haul flight to England.

Right, then!

Finding the Empire Mall takes some doing, but eventually I get there and there’s the slide in all its curly glory. Although Time Out made it sound like it was for Bear Grylls-style daredevils, when I get to the fifth floor it’s just me and a couple of 10-year-olds in the queue. When it comes to my turn, I’m tucked in a sack, handed my handbag to clutch, and given a shove.

I barely have time to pronounce “?$%!!” at the sight of the chute whizzing around me, before I’m startling the wee bloke at the bottom, who was expecting to catch someone smaller.

Keeper? Yes. Cheered the fuck up.

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