London feels like home now. We get out for free again and rush into the city. We hop on the familiar Tube. Before that, we see our guys again (different ones this time) trying to get three people through on one unlimited pass (about 7 pounds). They get caught and are being scolded desperately. They don't have a visa either, just like us. If they kick you out here, that's it—you won't be let back in, especially if you managed to break the law under a visa-waiver regime... Our guys are playing dumb, claiming that's how everyone does it in Russia (just like you'd tell a traffic cop there are no speed limits in Russia—that's where these stereotypes about us in the West come from=)))

Anyway. We walk to our favorite Trafalgar Square, sit in our favorite McDonald's and an internet cafe. We walk to the Tower, then a bit more, and by 3 AM we realize we are deathly tired. But there's nowhere to sleep. Just as deathly.

We hop on the first double-decker bus we see and fall fast asleep on the second floor...))

Who knew that their night buses and day buses are different??)) We ended up 2.5 hours away in some suburb, from which nothing runs to London in the morning. And our flight is at 6 PM))

With three transfers, we reach the Gherkin skyscraper and go for a walk through the City business district. It's awesome here! Everyone is in shirts and ties, no cars because entry into the city is restricted in the morning, and the only shops around are tailors and cobblers))

Then we call Bank of America, where some of our money is left. It turns out that to transfer it to Russia, you have to pay about 150 dollars. And that's regardless of the amount, apparently. Each. We get upset, but immediately come up with a plan. The girls withdraw their money at Barclays because it has no commission for Bank of America cards. And I leave the money there since I still need to order a laptop from the USA online and have it mailed to Russia.

Next, we go to buy sneakers for the girls so they have at least some clothing from abroad)) While they are choosing, it turns out we are already late for our flight. We rush to the subway, and 40 minutes before the flight, we are at the airport.

Considering I haven't shaved in three days, slept wherever, and washed up and brushed my teeth in a cafe, I really don't look great. After standing in a 20-minute line, I am subjected to a super-search by two men. When they find prayer beads in my pocket, their eyes light up, and it's clear they are about to pull a bomb or half a kilo of heroin out from under my shirt. I even start to get scared myself. 10 minutes until the flight.

They let us go in 2 minutes—we run headlong to our (as usual, the furthest) gate and jump onto the British Airways bus 1.5 minutes before boarding ends. If we had been late, we would never see the United Kingdom again. Because that would have been yet another violation of the visa-waiver regime.

In short, the last 2 chapters are to remind you to manage your time; it can sometimes cost you dearly))

That's it, the Boeing 737 lifts off, and 3 hours later we are in Finland. We get out, look at my mom who is ready to burst into tears, get our luggage, get into the car, turn on the GPS, and enter the destination in Russian: "Russia, Saint Petersburg"