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My Postcards (3)

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The last of my Postcards!

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The Brisbane ref is where my Uncle Ken lived at the time, the one who had all that skin removed from his back. Three weeks in Singapore, all found. Now how much would that cost you if you went as a tourist! They actually paid me for this!

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The green chute, that is. And it was terrifying too! You flew through the air with the momentum of your own body and landed, if you were lucky, half way down the chute. And if you were unlucky, you fell to the ground! Not nice! I only went down it the once. Never again! I began to feel old that day. I left it to a couple of little chinese boys - couldn't have been more than six years old - who were having a great time going down it again and again all that day.
 
Singapore. What a place. The last great city-state on earth. While I was there, they hanged two guys in Changi Prison for having a couple of pep-pills in their car! They take drug smuggling very seriously out there, as they do crime in general. Twelve strokes of a very heavy rattan cane is a mandatory  additional punishment for any crime involving violence, and it ain't like having 'six of the best' from the 'Whiz' (as the deputy headmaster of Cardiff High School, Dr Williams, was affectionately known) either. It's on your bare arse, for a start, and you should see the size of the cane! Bloody Nora! More like a club.

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Notice the date here. Just before the Falklands War. Actually, Argentinians are very nice people.