Sunday, July 24, 2005 4:57 pm

I managed to finish HP before we reached the New Tretyakov Gallery. I liked it; I think she's improving as a writer. It sets up the last book nicely, and takes several paths that I thought it would--Harry & Ginny, Hermione & Ron, a concrete way of defeating Voldimort becomes available, Dumbledore's death... all necessary for the development of Harry as a character. It's a beautiful twist with Snape, too. I'm the teensiest bit afraid that he'll turn out to be actually bad! Rowling is wonderfully ambiguous, though. He is my favorite character, I think. Narcissa and Draco have become more real, too, which I like to see. There are a few new characters, too, who will certainly be important in the next book. Only I wonder, from a literary point of view--why is Hagrid still around? He's serving no purpose. Unless she's saving him for something big, she's probably just too fond of him to kill him. Same for Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Percy Weasley. But we'll see.

Okay, so in reality... the Tretyakov was all right, but I liked the older art better. I bought a little book of some of the paintings. The statue garden was beautiful, though. Dasha took us to a wonderful Georgian restaurant, where I ate too much, argued with futility with Jeremy & Co. about the role of science, and got sick. It was very hot, and I hadn't slept. It was expensive. I had only 160 r. left at the end of the day, not even worth exchanging.

At home, I napped, then set about packing. Nina gave me a jar of almonds in honey and a tablecloth for Mom; she said to tell her that she had a "khoroshaya doch". I ate supper (with ice cream!) and went to bed exhausted.

This morning I woke before Nina's knock, but didn't get up until she called. It was a hot, bright morning. I dressed, made my bed, and packed up quickly. For breakfast, Nina made those mini-pancakes, and there was of course yogurt and tvorog. She also made a sandwich to take with me. We sat for a minute before leaving.

Volodya was supposed to come for me at 10:15, but we waited outside for 45 minutes. Finally, Lena came in a taxi, explaining that Erin and Kelly were already at the airport. I didn't really understand about Volodya's absence.

I rode in silence to the airport. The window was down, and it was lovely. The ride seemed short, although I think it was almost an hour. The driver helped me unload my things; then I made my way inside alone.

Customs was easy; I simply walked through "Nothing to Declare" without being stopped. I found Kelly waiting in front of check-in; you couldn't check in before 3 hours before your flight. Erin had gone already. I bought us cokes (80 r. each!!!) and used up my roubles. At last Kelly's flight started blinking and she left. I waited alone for an hour. I went through line wihtout incident. My bags were 17 and 23 kgs, and they will be shipped through to Minneapolis. It seemed strange to speak English with strangers. Kelly, amazingly, didn't finish until after I did; they took everything out of all of her bags and then repacked them--they did the same for everyone in her line!!! The passport woman was crabby to me.

We had different gates, so I was alone again for an hour and a half. I gave in and began the D. H. Lawrence, which is, so far, painfully true. Again, the messy line formed mysteriously, with no audible signal, but it didn't matter. I don't care about much today; my head aches a bit.

When I got on the plane I began writing. Europe is covered with clouds. The dinner was... strange. There was some kind of roll filled with hot cheese and peppers, cold rice salad, and whipped cream with jelly. It was so weird, but not horrible-tasting; besides, I had no lunch. I suppose I will be hungry again in Amsterdam.

I am sitting in the middle again. On my left is a Russian boy of about 13; he is friends with the giggly girls behind us. He speaks at least a bit of English and has a book. On my right, there is an intelligent-looking man of perhaps thirty. He has a nice voice and is reading Sophie's World; I very much approve.

I suppose I will now return to the D. H. Lawrence. I wonder what I will do in Amsterdam this evening. It will take all my strength not to finish my book.