Festival-Loving London Girl and I see more ruins and shops once our tour guide leaves. We visit the Temple of Hephaistos, which is the oldest still-standing structure with no renovations and was built between 460 and 415 B.C.E.
As day dwindles, we walk uphill to the Philopappos Monument, known as The Hill of the Muses. As we walk, we find stray dogs to pet, and I climb monkey bars. At the top, we talk about what we’ve learned so far today.
My dad calls. “You’re a terrible girlfriend for leaving your boyfriend behind. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” I roll my eyes and ignore him, Focusing on the beauty of sunset instead.
“Okay, Dad, I’m a terrible girlfriend. I’ve got to go now, I’m busy.” I hang up and resume conversing with my new friend.
Festival-Loving London Girl tells me how she has a blog where she covers music festivals in the U.K. (Where’s my Tent?). She gets into festivals for free and although she isn’t making money at it, she loves what she does. I feel like she’s more of a writer than I ammore accomplished. I’m happy for her though. It must be nice to niche like that. I think that maybe I should try it. As we walk, I realize that ever since leaving the States—and my boyfriend—over a week ago, I haven’t felt lonely at all. I also haven’t gotten much writing done, or taken a real hike, but I feel good and alive.
We watch the sun set over the city and ocean on one side, and the Parthenon on the other. From here the great temple looks like a children’s toy structure off in the distance, something to pull apart and reassemble, not so majestic after all. The moon rises at its side, massive, golden, and so life-affirming it’s surreal.