I went to Bhutan expecting grand temples, serious monks, and a kind of quiet that would finally convince my brain to stop running marathons.What I found was a place where devotion feels a lot like everyday life—kids hiding under robes, monks sharing easy laughter, and me climbing more monastery stairs than I care to admit, chasing flashes of red that always moved faster than me.
Nothing here tries too hard. Faith isn’t loud; it just is.
It lives in color and repetition—drifting incense, shared moments, and the gentle rhythm of a day. Somewhere between the silence and all that red, Bhutan won me over completely.
