On this particular day in February, I set out to explore the streets of Yangon with three other travellers: Kerri, my Canadian best friend, Uros, a Serbian we had met in our hotel, and an Austrian woman whose name has now slipped my mind (this is what happens when you travel a lot and meet people every day).
We walked for hours, stopping to drink sugar cane juice, to play with the snakes for sale on the sidewalk, to eat delicious Indian food in a small and sweaty shop, to talk to schoolkids who wanted to practice English, to taste strange fruits that vendors offered us for free. We marvelled at anything and everything, our senses wide open for discovering. It felt so good to walk, to follow no set path and to just see what would happen; as most travellers would attest, this is one of the greatest feelings, the feeling of pure and simple exploration, the guidebook and maps tucked away (until you have to find your way home, of course).
We ended up at the Shwedagon Paya, a beautiful golden temple that is one of the highlights of any trip to Myanmar. Sitting there with a great group of people, watching the sun set over the city, and reflecting on the events of the day, I remember feeling absolute serenity, absolute satisfaction at another day well travelled.
For more photos from that day, please click here.