Two and a half months, 5 states. But Florida, why are you so beautiful? We used to look at such pictures on the internet, save them to our phones, and set them as wallpapers, but now our own photos are more beautiful than those pictures.

I would like to start by saying goodbye to North Carolina, the city of Durham. It was a busy day at work, lots of customers, tables, and mixed-up orders. We were all on edge, serving plates of sandwiches with that 'suitcase-ready' mood.

I only remember everyone suddenly starting to clap and looking at us with smiles. Mary, Edward, the waiters, the dishwasher, the cooks—everyone was applauding. And then, a cake with 'we miss you all' written on it in Russian! Apparently, we did touch Mary and Edward's hearts with our Russian mentality when we sat in their kitchen until late at night, helping them look for housing in Sochi and telling them how to cook borscht.

That’s when the emotions poured out. And the tears. I only remember a blur of black uniforms hugging each other. Mary hugged me, and then my work uniform was soaked in her tears.

Two months ago, brick buildings didn't seem cozy enough to house a cafe, an office, or even an apartment. I remember when we first started looking for housing, we were offered a rental apartment with an exposed brick wall inside. We were horrified, and the realtor clicked her tongue at our ignorance. We couldn't recognize the trendiest decor element.

Here, we have no unfinished business or unkept promises left. We handed out notebooks, keychains, and magnets to everyone, and wrote farewell notes. And the waiters, along with Mary and Edward, gave us a card with signatures and well-wishes. However, Russians sign farewell cards with more soul. We really do have more soul, friends.

I love packing suitcases! A perfectionist syndrome wakes up in me: I need to take everything out of every drawer, shelf, and cosmetic bag, get rid of unnecessary things, clear out the fridge, and arrange everything so there's enough space in the suitcase.

And the next day we got on the train, and the city lost us. I don't know if they miss us there. I know that after we left, everything went haywire. Some quit, others were fired. Our restaurant didn't have the best fate. But we had nothing to do with it.

Goodbye, Cuban Revolution! Thank you for everything.

A scorching, fiery city 30 km from our Sarasota. Bags cutting into our shoulders, feet blistered. But we arrived for a vacation, to the ocean!

Somehow it doesn't matter anymore... Everything fades into the background when there is an ocean. We leave many, many bad memories in it.

In Sarasota, Yulia helped us. If it weren't for her, we wouldn't have had such a wonderful trip. I hope we didn't cause her too much trouble.

We head straight to our new home. Sleep deprivation, hypothermia from the air conditioning, then heatstroke from the 40-degree sun—it all crashes down on us, and we collapse onto the beds, exhausted.

And in the evening, we went to scout the apartment and the house. There was a huge kitchen with a dining table, white leather sofas, and a TV. Besides that, the house had a pool, billiards, a reading room, a gym...

On every door in the house, there were various funny welcome souvenirs hanging.

Everything is just like in GTA Miami. (By the way, it's a 3-hour drive to Miami).

Again, smooth lawns, even smoother than in Durham, clean paths where you can walk in white socks or even... lie down.

You can't swim in the canal, so we look at the water, dreaming of tomorrow's meeting with the ocean.

It never snows in Sarasota. Summer all year round. In my opinion, monotony is boring; you get used to it quickly. If you don't know how to appreciate it, then it's pointless. Then it's better to have 5 months of winter, like we do, and the long-awaited spring and summer. Earned by long frosts and short daylight hours.

The average age here is 55. These are retired people with deep pockets; young people are rarer. The city is not criminal, it's quiet. There are no buses there, everyone has cars. You rarely see African Americans, let alone Mexicans.

At night, there is crazy traffic in this small town. And people are so nervous; experienced drivers honk at every one of Zhenya's mistakes due to inexperience.

I calculated the sunset time every day. I would come here alone, sit on the shore, and watch the sun until it completely hid.

I have a new friend; I named her the Lonely Heron. She watched the sunset with me, only from the water. And then she would fly away. We saw each other on the pier every day. I think herons are very romantic birds. Even more romantic than people. Have you noticed how attentive they are?

It's bad when there's no one to watch the sunsets with. But it was more fun with the heron. Sometimes she would glance at me, apparently out of fear, and I at her out of curiosity.

If I sat still and didn't twitch once during the entire sunset, she would get used to it and stop looking in my direction. But as soon as I moved my hand or leg, the Lonely Heron would turn her neck suspiciously. Once, I took too many photos of her, and she flew away. A complicated bird...

But she always looked exactly toward the sunset. We watched 6 sunsets together.