A World Away

I found myself crouching by a parked car in a makeshift garage, rain beating down on the wooden roof. A sudden flash - so quick I might have imagined it - then a deep growl of thunder, roaring towards me.

The car was metal, and I began to creep away from it. But the roof was wooden… and my shoes rubber soled. I thought back to all my years of schooling, remembering not one lesson on what to do in a thunderstorm. Plenty of Pythagorean theory, but no common sense.

It was my fourth day in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Despite it being a bustling, high-rise capital city, I spent much of my time there in natural spaces, like the Forest Research Institute Malaysia, a protected area a little north of KL. It’s known for its canopy walkway, a wood and rope bridge suspended 30 metres above the ground. There’s a spectacular view of the city as you wander slowly among rustling leaves, creaking branches and the calls of tropical birds.

It was as I descended the hill, treetop saunter over, that I noticed the clouds. Bruised-black and brooding, they hung over vibrant green leaves, and I realised there was going to be another storm. It was the rainy season and I’d watched lightning fork through the sky night after night.

Thin, misty rain spattered my glasses and I picked up my pace. Growing up in Scotland, I’m no stranger to drizzle, but dressed in shorts and a t-shirt - my anorak long lost in Thailand - I was loath to get caught in a thunderstorm. I’d already checked out of my hostel with a 14-hour flight home ahead of me that evening.

The raindrops fattened as I reached the road and my canvas shoes were the first casualty. The air was thick, my feet sticking to my socks. Whip-crack thunder snaked through the air. As lightning began to flicker and flash, I glanced cautiously up at the towering trees. Half my brain stayed rational - they say you’re more likely to be murdered than killed by lightning - but the other half went into nightmare overdrive, and I saw myself crushed in the forest.

As the rain tumbled thicker and faster to the softening ground, I spotted the makeshift garage and scrambled in. After ten minutes crouching in the damp, listening to the rain hammer on the roof and watching it fall like a curtain ahead of me, I started to wonder why I was there. Sure, I was dry, but where was the fun? I stepped out into the warm rain, eyes closed, and let it soak me right through.

Snuggled into my seat on the plane, feet still damp, I didn’t regret a single second.