This article on the BBC is pretty insane. On Christmas Eve in 1971, the airplane Juliane was flying on broke into pieces after it was hit by lightning. She plunged -- strapped to her seat -- for about two miles. She woke up the next morning staring at the tree canopy above her.
The first thought I had was: "I survived an air crash."
I shouted out for my mother in but I only heard the sounds of the jungle. I was completely alone.
I had broken my collarbone and had some deep cuts on my legs but my injuries weren't serious. I realised later that I had ruptured a ligament in my knee but I could walk.
Before the crash, I had spent a year and a half with my parents on their research station only 30 miles away. I learned a lot about life in the rainforest, that it wasn't too dangerous. It's not the green hell that the world always thinks.
I could hear the planes overhead searching for the wreck but it was a very dense forest and I couldn't see them.
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