The Great Adventure

Chapter 9: Finding Inspiration

The Uber to the airport was taken in near silence. None of us had been eager to say our goodbyes, even if it was only for a few short weeks. It wasn't until we were through security and heading to our respective gates, that Slug chose to get upset. "I can't believe I won't see you for three weeks!" Slug wailed.

Kristoff side-eyed her, afraid she was going to burst into tears at any moment. I rubbed Slug's shoulder's reassuringly. "Hey, you're going to have a kickass time in Russia, okay? Eat lots of food." I turned to Kristoff. "Send me videos of her reactions, please."

"Why?" Slug asked. "Is it that good?"

"Yes, for sure," I said, hiding my grin. I'd never really appreciated the Russian cuisine. But then again, my experience had been slightly tainted by my father tricking me into eating a spoonful of sour cream. Thanks, Charles. I was fairly certain Slug would not like any of the dishes that I had tried. She was a picky eater.

"You're going to be alone for three whole weeks, Bri," Slug reminded me. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

I nodded. "This was supposed to be a solo trip for me anyway."

"Okay," she said, unconvinced. She wrapped her arms around my waist and held on as tightly as she could. "Be safe!"

"Alright, mother." I rolled my eyes, earning a snicker from Kristoff.

"Is Greece calling, Bri?" Kristoff asked. He attempted to pry Slug off of me, but she refused to budge.

I grinned. "Yes, it is, and I must go." I laughed at my own use of my blog url. "I'll miss you, Slug-o." After another long minute she let me go so I could hug Kristoff. "You too, Kris. Have lots of fun, send me pics. I'll see you guys soon."

"In Paris!" Slug said, bouncing on her heels. I waved and started to leave. "Eat a whole lot of baklava for me," she called. I turned to give her a thumbs up, and then headed to my gate.

I had been years since I'd been to the Parthenon, and I was eager to go back. I hiked up thee hill, a light sweat breaking out across my forehead. A young girl ahead of me tugged her father's hand, begging to be picked up. I smiled at her as I passed by.

The steps were just as crowded as I remembered them, but on my own it was easy to skirt around the edges of the crowd. I slid past the large tour groups, and finally I could make out the pillars leading to the open space in front of the Parthenon.

A gust of wind whipped around me, blowing my hair wildly into my face. I rounded the corner of the building and headed to the edge of the hill. I was here for the view. I leaned against the wall, and set up my camera to snap a picture. Before I could, I felt someone step incredibly close to my side. I glanced at the girl out of the corner of my eye, hoping she'd take the hint.

She gasped. "It is you!"

"Is it?" I asked, surprised.

"You're Brighton Howell, aren't you?" She asked, bouncing on her heels. She reminded me of a younger, Australian version of Leah. Though they didn't look anything alike. "Andimustgo?"

I nodded; a little dumbfounded that anyone had actually recognized me from my blog. "Yes, that's me."

"I'm Nadia Williams. I've been following you for ages. I'm here with a student travel company. You actually answered one of my questions on your blog about a month ago!" She grinned. "I knew you were on a massive European trip, but what are the chances that I'd actually run into you? I thought you were in Norway!"