A flatbed truck with some luggage was trying to back up from the main building of the airport and passengers kept grabbing bags from it even as it moved. I noticed my bag on the back of a truck that had already entered the airport. I scooped it up and made for the door. Two offers of taxi ride before I noticed a guy holding a sheet of paper with my name on it. I waved and we walked quickly to his car.
I didn't know much about the driver; only that he was affiliated with the folks we had rented our apartment from. After a few blocks or so he asked if I spoke Russian, and I answered no - in Ukrainian as Amy would later point out. The ride in was uneventful, not many street signs and some street signs for unexpected things. A Mercedes dealership for instance. When we got to the apartment he insisted on carrying my laptop and camera laden messenger bag, and walked me through a bunch of doors and up a concrete spiral stair past an old elevator.
My guide rang the heart-shaped doorbell for our apartment and we waited. We could hear things but no one came to the door. He looked in my direction and shrugged. Turns out Amy was trying to get pants on Axel who'd been going pants free owing to how warm the apartment is. While I hugged and carried Axel, Amy carried on multiple conversations with Vasiliy about how much we owed for the ride from the airport and something about a pillow that it would take a couple of days for me to remember to ask about.
I unpacked all of the edibles I'd brought from home, and we walked down busy streets —past the Hotel Dnister— to a small shop where we bought some Lviv beer for 4.50 hryvnia and a hard sausage. For dinner we ate odds and ends. Pelmeni, the sausage, and a sharp, acidic cheddar that Amy had bought. The Prather Ranch Meat Company Slim Jims I'd been entrusted with, and a delicious relish of beets and horseradish.
Within minutes of lying down with Axel to get him to sleep I was down for the count.
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