I got up earlier than usual yesterday, as I had to go to the airport to meet my old friend Boris Petrov. We went to school together, then we went to the same college in Moscow, but now we live in different parts of the Soviet Union. Boris lives and works in the North of our country, in Verkhoyansk, and I live by the sea in Sukhumi. I wrote to him a few months ago to invite him to my place for a holiday. Soon I got an answer. He thanked me heartily for the invitation and asked me to meet him at the airport on the 20th of April.
"I hope you won't mind if I bring my wife and my son with me," he wrote.
When I went out, it was very warm, though it was early morning. The air was fresh, the sky was blue, and the sun was shining. In Sukhumi it's usually very fine in April. It doesn't often rain and it's not very hot yet. I like Sukhumi at this time of year best of all.
I took a taxi and started for the airport. "I'm afraid I may be late," I said to the driver and asked him to go faster. We reached the airport in time: the plane was just landing. It was only half past six in the morning, but it was as warm as in the afternoon.
The passengers were getting out of the plane. I went up to the plane and saw a group of people who looked very funny in this warm weather: all of them had warm winter clothes on.
"Hallo, glad to see you," I said, when I recognized Boris in the group.
"Hallo, old man, this is my wife and my son," Boris said.
"Pleased to meet you. I hope you had a good journey," I said. "Aren't you dressed a bit too warmly? It's not so cold here as in Verkhoyansk, is it?"
"I think it's just a little warmer," Boris agreed and laughed, "but when we left home, it was snowing hard and we weren't at all hot. D'you know how cold it was there that day? You won't believe it: almost thirty-five degrees below zero, let alone the biting winds."
"Ah, well, take off your coats, and let's hurry home. The taxi's waiting. It won't take us long. I'm sure you'll like it here."