In The Rain

Owing to my family’s circumstances, I did not go hiking for more than two months. I missed the beautiful, transient spring in the countryside. I finally joined some friends for a short hike in Sai Kung on Tuesday. Unfortunately, the weather was unstable, and it had been raining on and off since Friday. How frustrating!

On Monday morning, the rain started again. After some exchanges of views over WhatsApp, we agreed to wait until 7 o’clock the next day before making the final decision on whether to continue with the plan. Anne, living closest to the hiking route, volunteered to give us the latest weather update on Tuesday morning.

I went to bed after 2:00 am on Tuesday morning and got up at 6:30 am. Peeking through the curtain, I saw that the sky was packed with clouds, but there was no rain. I checked the weather report on the observatory app, and it forecast a 40% chance of rain in the next four hours. I was indecisive about whether I should suggest calling off the trip.

Anne sent us the whole observatory forecast report at 6:51 am. At 7 o’clock, I sent out a message that it was not raining in my area, and asked if everyone would like to continue. Nobody replied. I hesitated for a while but reminded myself I needed the trip. So, I got dressed, took my camera, put it in a plastic bag and left for the bus stop to catch the 7:15 bus.

On the way, my decision was made clear - I would go to Sai Kung even if my friends decided not to. I could still have a l breakfast there and take some casual snapshots along the promenade or the town centre whenever the rain stopped. When the bus reached the motorway, one of the friends finally replied, saying that it was already raining in Kowloon but suggested going to Sai Kung and making the final decision over a dim sum tea breakfast. The rest of the hiking group confirmed their support.

It was raining when we met at the mini-bus station, so the decision to go for a Chinese tea breakfast was easy. The whole area was quiet, and we went to a large traditional restaurant and sat outside, facing the promenade. I was surprised that none of us were upset by the rain, and we enjoyed catching up on what had been happening in life as the rain got heavier until it became a downpour. At 11:15 am, the rain stopped, and we had to make the decision. We all agreed that it would be unsafe to continue with the planned route. We definitely did not want our shoes all covered with mud. April, the youngest member of the group, called an outdoor training facility in the area to enquire about booking indoor day-camp facilities. The staff member there welcomed our immediate booking but reminded us that they were short of staff and that all indoor sports facilities and workshops were unavailable except the cafeteria. The decision was again easy, and April thanked him for the information and hung up.

I suggested taking a taxi to the east dam of Highland Reservoir and hiking back to the bus terminus for the minibus back to Sai Kung. It would be pretty safe even if it rained again, I added. The suggestion didn’t seem well-received. Anne said that we might have to call a taxi to take us back as well because of the weather; then this would become an expensive short hike. April interrupted with excitement and reminded us that it was the last day of the Golden Week holiday, so the franchised minibus service, which only operates on weekends, might be running. Anne started searching on her phone, but I told her I would check with the station officer. We were excited that the minibus was running and that nobody was waiting at the bus stop.

The sky got brighter on the way to the reservoir, and we anticipated a great hike around the area. When the bus finally stopped, I could see quite a lot of people around. Yet, aside from a handful of hikers, they were policemen, ambulance officers, firemen and taxi drivers, all gathered around their vehicles, having a chitchat in a relaxed mood. Big teams of volunteer eco-guides and workers of the Fisheries and Conservation Department were stationed at a pavilion near the public toilets. We took shelter at the pavilion as the rain started again and the wind was gathering its strength. The volunteers were friendly and eager to share some ecological features of the area, so my friends were glad to be the audience. Having no interest in that, I walked around the pavilion, surveying everything from the nearby shrubs to the green hills, red cliffs and the distant dam.

The rain did not seem to stop soon, but we decided to walk down to the sea cave at the bottom of the dam and cofferdam, even though there were no visitors in sight. My friends were excited and spurred on to the sea cave. I chose to take time to study and appreciate the things I encountered along the downward path. Despite a plethora of hesitation, I finally convinced myself to take out my camera and start taking photos. It was not easy to take photos with a camera when the wind was strong and the rain was pretty dense, and I had to free one hand to hold the umbrella. I kept telling myself that was a stupid move because the camera was not weather-sealed. So, from time to time, I had to find the third hand to dry the camera with tissue paper.

Being drenched by the rain, everything looked so fresh and clean. The whole place was quiet except for the sounds of nature and weather. I could not believe that this tranquil and beautiful slice of the city was in my procession at this special moment. I was touched, and many hazy memories from three decades ago, the last time I was here, began to resurface.

Without human destruction or sabotage, the rocks, the cliffs, and the mountains would stay there for millennia to come. But, for us, every tomorrow is definitively different and uncertain. We just have today. We just have the memories and the sweet and bitter sentiments left behind. It may all sound relative, but it is that simultaneous experience of permanence and transience that moves me and resonates in the depths of my mind.

We did not get to the famous photography hotspot on the hill adjacent to the dam for an I-made-it-here photo, but this two hours’ walking in the rain is already a treasurable piece of memory for many years to come. 

I am surprised that it took me so long to come to these two hours.