September 24th, 1989

September 24th, 1989

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Met Mavis and Laney this morning for a trip to the outdoor market, where, as usual, it was mobbed and ridiculously humid, neither of which I enjoy. After several hours of traipsing around, wilting to death, I told the girls I’d had enough. They were in agreement that the weather was draining so we caught a taxi back to the hotel (fully air-conditioned, ah.)

I rang mum and dad from the lobby, just to check in and see how things were at home. Mum was getting ready for church but was pleased to tell me a letter had arrived, “With a lovely Japanese stamp.” Obviously David, from Tokyo. I was tempted to ask mum to open it and read it out to me, which I know she’d have been more than happy to do but I’ll be home in a week and can savour reading it then.

Took a nap then met Laney and Mavis in the lobby at seven. Headed to the Tin Mine at the Hilton hotel, which, according to their flyer is, “The Studio 54 of Malaysia.” The fact that Studio 54 closed in New York almost ten years ago obviously escaped the attention of the marketing department! Studio 54 is definitely one nightclub I’d have loved to go to, I love all the stories about the famed nightspot but the best one has to be when Bianca Jagger rode a white stallion around the club on her thirtieth birthday!

The Tin Mine was filled mostly with tourists, ex-pats and other airline crew and even with the dj playing some of my favourites, I just couldn’t get into it. By the time midnight rolled around, I felt groggy and tired, but not from alcohol (I only drank coke.) I told the girls I was wiped, so they walked me out to the taxi stand, then they went back inside.

I’m not tired at all now so I feel a writing marathon coming on and I know I shouldn’t, but I might have to order some chocolate mousse from room service, if only to keep my creative juices flowing.

So glad I remembered to pack my Sony Walkman, because the night would not be complete without dancing around the hotel room, with the headphones on, listening to Luther Vandross singing, “Never too Much.”

 

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