"Travel isn’t about sunshine and perfect pictures. Sometimes, it’s about walking in the rain and feeling alive."

It started raining just as I stepped out of the train station in Kyoto. I didn’t bring an umbrella. I didn’t check the weather. I just wanted to see the old streets I had seen in photos.

At first, I thought the rain ruined everything.

But then I saw a couple walking slowly under one umbrella, laughing. A boy splashing in puddles while his grandma waited with a plastic bag over her hair. The smell of wet earth mixed with the scent of hot noodles from a nearby stall.

I walked with no plan. My hoodie was soaked, but I didn’t care anymore. The city looked different in the rain which is more quieter, softer, more real.

I stopped by a tiny shop with steamed-up windows. The owner handed me a warm towel and green tea without a word. Just a smile. I sat there, watching raindrops race down the glass.

That day didn’t go how I imagined. It went better.

Because sometimes, travel isn’t about sunshine and perfect pictures.Sometimes, it’s about walking in the rain and feeling alive.