Extreme Action in Kuala Lumpur

Could not think of anything new to put on my blog. So I dug this up from my journal dated April 2009.

I like to think of myself as an adrenaline junkie. My husband however begs to differ. Between snorts of hysterical laughter, he said that people who scream themselves hoarse at the sight of puppies and fluffy chicks have no right to make such outlandish claims. Outraged at his tendency to laugh about my phobia of anything with claws, fur, sharp teeth/beaks, and icky tongues I decided to rev up our weekend in Kuala Lumpur with some extreme action.

Our first stop in keeping with this endeavour was the theme park at Genting. The theme – park was a revelation. It was like those enchanted lands you read about in Enid Blyton books. Our destination in this wonderland was Genting sky venture. It is a one – of – a – kind wind tunnel that is designed to give people like me the chance to experience sky diving without having to give in to suicidal instincts and jump out of an airplane.

Perhaps it was pre – gravity – defying jitters but we decided to go on the regular rides first to ease into our as yet virginal thrill – seeking tendencies. After a giddy tour of the grounds where we giggled and screamed like school kids, we knew the moment of truth had arrived. It was time for our sky venture.

We were greeted by a friendly ‘body fly’ instructor, who assured us that there was no cause for worry and promptly gave us forms to sign. Apparently we should guarantee that the Genting guys would be absolved of all blame should one of us die in the course of this adventure. And if such an unhappy event were to occur our RM50 per person would not be refunded. It was all very encouraging. Hubby asked me if I wanted to quit looking like he might burst out laughing. That did it. I grabbed the pen and signed on the dotted line.

The instructor briskly ushered us into a changing room where we were suited up in flying gear. A briefing session followed on how to fly and basic safety procedures. We were then ushered into a wind tunnel where our simulated sky diving experience would commence. Nothing in my wildest dreams had prepared me for the next few moments. With knees bent and chin tucked in (I was following instructions solicitously) and buffeted by winds up to 193 km/hr I soared upwards. Truly believing I could fly, I soared higher and higher like a majestic eagle or a clumsy peacock depending on your point of view. The wind was screaming in my ear and my eyes stung with the force of it. But my tended towards plumpness frame felt gloriously weightless and I continued to fly. All too soon, it was time to return to Earth. My magical experience had ended.


Hubby and I were given certificates and a DVD that had preserved the moment for eternity. We were told that we were now part of an elite club that included astronauts and cosmonauts from all over the world who came to Genting for practise sessions. Next stop... NASA!!


As it turns out, newly inducted adrenaline junkies are always looking for a fix. Consequently, the next day saw us at the Menara Towers, KL, all set for our urban adventure. I had discovered in my quest for thrills and chills that the AJ Hackett group, pioneers of bungee jumping had a site in Malaysia. The ride is called Flying Fox Park. For the small sum of RM30 you are promised a quick thrill that is guaranteed to get your pulse racing as you glide over the treetops suspended from a steel cable with a pulley.


The ride was everything it promised but was a little tame after our sky venture. I tried to jazz it up by attempting some daredevil stunts but gave it up after inadvertently tickling the funny bone of a group of watching tourists.


All in all, we had thoroughly enjoyed our first foray into the world of adventure sports. I am now game for anything – bungee jumping, sky diving (the real thing), swimming with the sharks, frolicking with killer whales, carousing with man – eating tigers, friendly wrestling matches with grouchy bears and what have you. Just so long as I don’t have to play with a puppy or pet a chick.

A Slice of Heaven

I had the perfect birthday... cake! It was a strawberry layer cake from Puppy's (Only the best bakery in the country and Sivadump's only legit claim to fame) with oodles of cream and abslutely gorgeous strawberry icing (glaze actually). I spent a long time simply feasting my eyes on it and trying to capture the beauty of it for all eternity with my camera phone. My elder daughter who cares little for the aesthetic value of cakes insisted that I cut 'her' cake at once and proceeded to wave her plate at me for emphasis.

With great reluctance, I proceeded to slice it up. Not surprisingly it tasted even better than it looked. The sponge was so moist, it felt like velvet in my mouth! Had promised myself that I'll have only a tiny slice on account of my no - sugar diet but needless to stay my willpower put up a token resistance and then succumbed shamelessly to its delectable opponent. So I wound up having only cake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. (Damn it all).

Guilt unfortunately tends to stimulate my appetite so I let my birthday celebrations continue over the weekend and committed one diet crime after the other. Had this concoction called 'Chocolate fantasy' which is chocolate cake with ice cream and followed it up with a sizzling brownie. Talk about chocolate overkill!

Anyways, birthday celebrations are finally over and I am going into chocolate rehab. God help meeee!!!! And Happy Birthday to me. Hopefully this year will be a leaner one.

Discovering Gone with the Wind

I hate love stories. And no, I am not referring to that hindi movie, just stating a fact. At boarding school, the sisters forbade us from reading Mills and Boon romances on the grounds that it was 'sinful'. Since it was given an honorary position in our school's versin of the Index, we girls simply could not get enough of it. We must have waded through dozens on a daily basis. I remember reading one such romance called "Tender Night" and thinking it was the greates piece of fiction ever written. It was about a typist who gets jilted at the altar and swears off men for life only to be swept off her feet by her masterful boss. Remember being so moved, I actually had gooseflesh.

But I lost my appetite for romances pretty quickly. Initially, it was because all the other girls were reading them and I prided myself on being different. So I used to walk around saying that M & Bs were blah and that I myself was into the classics. Later, I genuinely came to hate the sappy fare that was being churned out in that genre. There is only so much a person can take off high - strung, gorgeous, well - endowed chicks and their self - manufactured drama. My well - meaning sister let me borrow her copy of Judith McNaught's "Whitney, my Love" before my wedding and the cloying romance made me wanna puke. After that awful experience, I promised myself I'll never touch another romance.

I had been avoiding 'Gone with the Wind' for this reason. Billed as the greatest love story of all time I figured it would be nauseating in the extreme. Recently, I came across a copy and was pleasantly surprised to discover that it WAS the greatest love story of all time. Loved the fact that Scarlett was detestable to the fag end and Rhett a bona fide scallawag despite being annoyingly lovable. And the sheer drama of it all! Loved it! Loved it! Loved it!

That being said, I still hate love stories and will continue to do so, but I love 'Gone with the Wind' and will always do so. And I am not ashamed of it.