By the time Thursday rolled around, Elena was already packed and ready to go. Kat drove her to Las Vegas before dawn to catch her flight out of McCarran International, waiting with her until it was time for her to check in at the gate.
Amidst goodbye hugs, Kat reminded Elena to call her as soon as she touched down and swore to do her bodily harm if she didn’t check in every day. The international plan they’d purchased for her phone made it possible for Elena to communicate like normal with her friends and family back home. She promised she would.
Her heart started to flutter as she passed through the gates, smiling nervously at the attendants who instructed her to empty her pockets and put her purse and carry-on bags into the plastic totes that ran through the X-ray scanners. It wasn’t the first time she’d flown, but she’d never been overseas.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long to board.
*
Elena got lost in the airport during an anxiety-ridden stopover in France, so by the time she made it to Moscow she was more than ready to leave airports behind for a few months.
Sven was waiting when she emerged from the plane, waving and smiling at her through the glass that separated the gate from the rest of the terminal.
Her shoulders slumped with relief at the sight of him, and she returned his smile with a tired one of her own as she made her way toward him through the crush of people.
“You made it!” he praised in Russian as he extended one hand to take her carry-on, his other arm opening to offer a half-hug.
“Barely!” Elena returned, laughing as she handed off her bag and leaned into the gesture. “Thank you!”
“You must be tired. Let’s get your bags and get you home. Are you hungry?”
“Equal parts starving and exhausted, actually.” She admitted as he led her through the terminal. Elena was pleased that they didn’t have any trouble communicating. Her Russian seemed adequate to keep up the conversation. “Food and a bed sound great right now!”
“Then food and a bed you shall have!”
True to his word, as soon as they’d gotten her bags he took her to a restaurant nearby that served burgers. Sven loved American food, he said, and told her it was one of the best burger joints in the city. Elena was so hungry that anything would have tasted good, even if it was only hamburgers. He promised to introduce her to some proper Russian food later.
When they got back to his house, which was a cute little one bedroom in a nice neighborhood, Sven gave her a quick tour, then pulled a floor screen out of the closet and set it up in the living room next to the sofa to give her some privacy.
“Sleep well,” he offered as he handed over a pillow and blankets. “Tomorrow we can do some site-seeing while I’m still here, if you feel up for it.”
“Sure, that sounds great,” Elena agreed, yawning as she spread out a blanket on the couch. “Just not, you know, not too early please.”
*
Not too early to Sven was seven in the morning. Judging by the looks of the sleeveless shirt, sweatpants, and tennis shoes he wore, he’d already been to the gym before he woke her. He lessened the insult by presenting her with a cup of coffee, though, so Elena thought she could forgive him.
In spite of the chill it was a nice morning, so once she was up and they were both dressed, they walked to the nearest metro station so he could show her the art and architecture of Moscow’s underground.
It was a wholly different experience than what she’d seen of the metro lines in the states—clean and beautiful, ornately decorated like a museum’s classical art hall. Awestruck, she found herself wondering how much it cost to maintain. It had to be a ridiculous amount.
“It’s beautiful!”
“It is,” he agreed proudly. “Moscow is amazing. Wait until we get to the square. You’re going to love it.”
They rode the metro to a station near the Red Square, the first stop on their tourist outing. Before exploring, he took her to a fancy café for breakfast. Elena watched the sun start its climb over the myriad of buildings with their shiny gold domes, listening contentedly as Sven told her all about the square’s history while they ate.
After, they bundled back up and made their way down the street to St. Basil’s. It was hard to miss the colorful spires standing cheerfully against the pretty blue backdrop of a cloudless sky. It was one of the most-visited, most-photographed spots in Moscow, according to Sven. Once she was standing before it, she could see why; it was simultaneously beautiful and gaudy. After wandering around the outside and taking selfies, they got in line to enter the building for a tour.
“Construction was started way back in the sixteenth century by Ivan the Terrible,” he explained, accenting the tyrant’s name with a growling pirate-like voice. “Each spire you see from outside actually represents a tiny church. There are ten churches total. The interior is more modest than you would think, isn’t it?”
Elena nodded agreement. The spaces inside were somewhat bare, other than the elaborate paintings and woodwork on the walls and ceilings. She’d expected more judging by the outward appearance, but it was no less impressive for the lack of furnishings. Her ability to read Russian was far less developed than her ability to speak it, so she settled for admiring the artwork and letting Sven lead the history lesson. Elena had a sneaking suspicion his attempts to educate her were more fun than the signs posted around the building anyway.
After they left the church, he took her to the Savior’s Tower, Lenin’s Mausoleum, Kazan Cathedral, and finally the State Museum. The Savior’s Tower was a gorgeous piece of architecture. Elena didn’t think she appreciated Lenin’s Mausoleum the way she would have if she were a native—seeing the man’s corpse on display in a glass casket just gave her the creeps. Kazan Cathedral was a pretty old building, but couldn’t hold a candle to the beauty of St. Basil’s. The museum, though, was quite the experience. Russian art was filled to the brim with bright colors and intricate details, and it seemed to cover almost every surface they came across inside the museum. The building itself was impressive, even before you took into account the rich history it held within.
Lunch was a buffet style affair a few blocks away that offered traditional style dishes, most of which she was unfamiliar with. There was a line, and food went fast, but Sven helped her pick an assortment of things she thought she might like. Savory pastries, potato cakes, an egg and vegetable dish, and several types of fancy looking cookies all ended up on her plate. It was a day full of new experiences.
After lunch, Sven dragged her to The Kremlin for a guided tour. By the time they got back on the metro that evening, Elena was worn out.
A night of Chinese food and cable TV helped her recover, but Sven got her up early again the next morning. Thankfully his cheerful, laid back personality made it easier not to be upset about the fact that he didn’t let her sleep in.
It quickly became obvious to Elena that Sven had more energy than he knew what to do with, though. By the time his departure date arrived, Elena was more than ready for some relaxation. He’d crammed as much sight-seeing into her first few days as he could, and she was thoroughly exhausted.
Before he left, he downloaded a few apps on her phone—a cab service and a restaurant locator—and left a list of emergency contact numbers, as well as a map with areas of the city she should avoid marked in red. As safe as Moscow was, there were still places a young woman shouldn’t go alone, he explained.