The High Life

There’s an intriguing sign on the wall in the swanky Royal Selangor Club in KL –

Since the club – all mock Tudor and with a waiting list as long as your average Malaysian spitting cobra –

is a bastion of male chauvinism, I assumed that the wacky-baccy boudoir would be strictly men only, so I didn’t go exploring.

But it did make me realise that everything in KL is about getting high.  You only have to look at a model of the city –

to understand that being at ground level is SO last year over here.

So, ever one to keep up with the trends, I have been concentrating on getting high.

My first attempt was frankly disastrous.  I went on a hike with my hiking buddies Pat and Frankie, and we met a retired couple who told us they were going up to a Buddhist shrine on the hill.

‘We’ll go with you,’ said Pat, rashly.

The retired couple promptly set off up a vertical incline like a couple of mountain goats, springing effortlessly from one boulder to the next.  I followed with all the grace and agility of a mountain walrus, puffing and sweating and clinging to tree roots, branches, and anything else that was going to stop me from making a rapid and undignified descent down the hill head first.

Luckily the survivors’ photo doesn’t show quite how puce and sweaty I was by the time we got there.

I got high much more successfully yesterday, when Brenda and I made it to the 86th floor of the Petronas Towers without breaking a sweat –

– and then celebrated our achievement with Prosecco on the 57th floor of an adjoining tower –

I’ve decided that I’m all for the high life … as long as there are elevators provided.

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