The monsoon rains had been soaking Seoul to the core. The last couple of weeks of her journey were dripping wet, mold grew on the bottom of her backpack, and her frayed jeans became heavy and clammy. The sneakers squeaked with each step she took up the hill. Yet she was happy. Nothing could dim the glow of her heart after what she'd been through.  The project started innocently enough with a wedding invitation to Wales. There was her cousin to visit in London, and a school friend in Ireland. Then another friend got posted to China, and suddenly her consulting job seemed boring and dull in comparison. Ottawa was a small town, with its square bureaucrats and petty politics, and she felt it was time to fly. Asia beckoned with its mysterious colours and scents, Australia with its happy go-lucky attitude, and Africa drummed to her heartbeat. So she packed her laptop and a few changes of clothes and set off on a year-around-the-world journey. Eleven months of sleeping in strange quarters, of discovering the known and unknown, of looking at herself through alien eyes and realizing the freedom of every day's simple choices. She liked traveling alone, being in control of her day, of where her feet and heart would take her.   And now she was on the last legs of her tour: Korea, Japan, and then a long flight back to Canada. Who cared if her jeans fell apart? There'll be time to get a new pair in Tokyo tomorrow. In the meantime she had a few hours left to enjoy this park. She continued uphill towards the temple and pulled out her camera. The rain had the ability to bring out the deepest green of the forest, and a dim light shone through the clouds, enlivening the red-tile of the temple's curvy roof. She checked the picture in the display screen - it was perfect.