Next, we went to the famous state of California. To the quiet, calm, and uniquely distinguished city of San Francisco. To the ever-rushing Los Angeles, teeming with celebrities or future stars, to the Hollywood sign that has become a symbol of the city, and to the cold, powerful, and at first glance, completely inaccessible Pacific Ocean.

All of California turned out to be exactly as I imagined it – impossible to describe or standardize. You can't say that California is reckless and has a very fast pace of life like Los Angeles, because, for example, San Francisco didn't seem like that to me at all. It is much calmer; in fact, you get the impression that all the locals are mainly busy showing off – with cars, talents, the ability to paint on walls, whatever they can. California is like a separate multinational country that you can study endlessly.

When we were already flying home, I looked out the airplane window for a long time and saw how the weather was changing. From the sunny states at that moment, we flew past foggy Albion, past European cities that were sometimes sunny and warm, sometimes covered in a fine drizzling rain; we were flying towards cloudy, already gray Moscow, preparing for a cold winter. It is amazing, but this change in weather reflected my state of mind. It was unbearable, I'm not afraid to use the word, painful to leave a country where I saw so much, learned so much, and understood so much for myself. It was as if I had broken out of the circle of my ordinary life for 4 months and lived them in a parallel reality – amazing, unforgettable, at times evoking contradictory feelings, but still so attractive.