Not a very early morning is the kind I like. Mammoth clouds, still gracing the skyline, moving past the suburbia deeper into the farther away land. We noticed several others on the train to the bus station. The bus would take us to Genting Highlands. An apparent entertainment destination for the entire family. And on Labour Day weekend, what else could one expect, but for the gathering multitude.

The car brought us to the train station. The Train bought us to the Bus stop. The bus got us to a cable car. And the cable car got us to the Highlands. The slow climb uphill suspended in time and air. While the cable car’s mechanical silence was nice to listen to, the multi coloured languages babbling in and out seemed akin to the rainbow brook. We stepped into the clouds, and the chilly air of second thought crept in gradually. It was ultimately dismissed by the grounding on the destination.

There were seizure inducing lights everywhere, and the escalator ride up and down made it seem like we were already in a theme park. Just a little less fun I think. The clouds loomed large over every part of the theme park. A sudden outburst of rain provoked one and all to abandon thought. Everyone was running helter-skelter at speed. The Space Shot was the ride of the day, more so because we were able to take on only two rides the entire misty day. We were reaching heavenward, just for a glimpse, only to be let down at super speed. A terrifying minute suspended in vortex speed gravity. All the screams are meaningless and forgettable.

The cold breeze inspired third thoughts, as our head and body were dunked in the clouds. Visibility reduced to almost negative, and one assumes that the glorious sound of Children’s Laughter kept the clouds from breaking again. An balloon artist particularly impressed me. He made the demanders air tight balloons of anything they wanted. Unfortunately they were still just balloons in my eyes.


After some roaming around, and discovering London in Genting, we took part in the long line ride to the cable car that would take us down. A return to the lights. As the darkness and cloudiness engulfed our cable car, the searching and inching towards the light at every point was memorable. It was like a far away light was the savior.
We reached ground after a long time. And as we passed by again, the white clouds over Genting seemed like a sandwich, with the black hills as the filling. And the never ending skies just playing a canvas to the portrait.