Lera looked impatiently at the seaside town over which the plane was circling. After successfully overcoming all those usual "Buona Sera! Qual è lo scopo della sua visita in Italia?" she, with her huge suitcase, finally boarded the Leonardo da Vinci Express, which would take her to the centre of Rome in half an hour.
Everything seemed unreal to Lera. The people around her were chatting loudly in Italian, smiling unusually frequently and gesturing a lot. This relaxed, cheerful crowd, so different from the gloomy Muscovites, finally made Lera feel like she was far from home. All the surroundings were a bit unfamiliar. Everyone was new. Absolutely nothing reminded her of her usual life. It was relaxing.
It was like Lera was escaping from something and had finally managed to break free. With each new mile, some invisible tension left the girl and a faint smile appeared on her face. She didn't even realise how she straightened her back and stood up straighter.
Getting to Testaccio, where Lera had booked a room, was not difficult. However, during the journey, Lera said goodbye several times to her life, while a taxi driver, who was crazy like all Roman drivers, rushed her through the streets of an ancient city with screaming tyres and illegal U-turns.
Most of all, Lera was worried about the fact that, for most of the way, the taxi driver was sitting facing her, constantly waving his right hand and lisping "Che bella ragazza!" in all possible variants at her. So, Lera herself was the only person in the car looking at the road.
Only when Lera's eyes became ideally round with horror, did the driver reluctantly turn right ahead to jerk the steering wheel, wave his hand through the open window, and yell, "Chi ti ha insegnato a guidare?!". Then everything repeated. Lera was more than ever glad Rome was half the size of Moscow. Her nerves could not handle a longer trip.
Rome welcomed her with warmth. Lera giggled at local dwellers wrapped in down jackets. A light coat was enough for herself. Passers-by looked on at her in disbelief, like saying, these turisti were completely mad if they could walk around naked in such frosty weather.
Lera entered the hotel with a serious face of russa turista, but as soon as the girl tipped the porter and closed the door, all assumed seriousness flew off her. Lera ran forward with a girlish squeal and jumped into bed to bury herself in pillows and blankets, stifling laughter. Tired of freaking out, she went to the window and opened it wide. She leaned over the broad sill and inhaled fresh air of freedom with all her chest.