When I was a kid, my grandmother would tell me stories (lots of stories). I wouldn't let her go until she had completed one. And, some days I would insist her repeating the same story, I would hear to the same story again and again until it filled my heart and was finally ready to let it go.
And over the years, I realized this same thing goes for, when I travel to places. I wish to travel to the same place twice. Not to see the things I missed, the Bridges I didn't take a walk on, the temples/monasteries I didn't visit, the local cuisine that I didn't taste, the festivities that I couldn't be a part of. The milky way that I missed.
But for the feeling alone that, I am not missing out on anything.I will always prefer standing at the edge of the valley, watching the gushing waters, sitting near the lake and soaking it all. Not once did I feel that I should do it differently. For the first time in ages, I didn't miss out on anything.
In the end I know that if I were to relive it all over again, I would do it exactly in the same way.