They aren't the first to arrive, but they're nowhere near the last, either, and that's by design. Jetlag hits Yuri like a train and Victor wants to make sure they have plenty of time to settle in, time for Yuri to nap if he needs to, or practice if he'd prefer to push himself until bed tonight, and it was a long flight from Shanghai. Too long: all he wants is a shower and some food, and then as large a coffee as he can find. They were both a little rumpled and tired coming off the plane –– although not tired enough he forgot they had to go through different gates, no matter what Yurio might have implied –– and it was a relief to get into the taxi and head towards the hotel, even it seems strange to be so exhausted just from sitting.
Except it wasn't really just from sitting, was it? It's from the people, too.
He's never minded being surrounded by people: fans, reporters, sponsors, fellow skaters, he enjoys them all. He's used to it, even being away in Japan for the last eight months. The experiences of almost two decades have made the relative quiet of Hasetsu the abnormal, not the usual. There was a strange sensation of homecoming not simply from being back in Russia, seeing the familiar Cyrillic letters on the signage, hearing the language spoken fluidly all around him, but the attention, too. Fans and well-wishers, wanting photographs or a greeting, many flying in for the same competition he's here for.
It's nice. But tiring.
And not nearly as fun for Yuri, who dislikes being in the spotlight nearly as much as Victor enjoys it, and that gives him an excuse to shuffle them out of the airport and into a waiting cab as soon as possible, before slumping back against the seat and smiling over at Yuri, wanting to reach and take his hand. "That could have been worse."
Better still is actually getting to the hotel, even if it's not the best possible choice. It's still a hotel, not a plane or a taxi, and he's grateful for it, and for the ease of checking in before the real rush of skaters and visitors floods the lobby.
But best will be actually getting to the room itself, and taking full advantage of a hotel shower, with all the accompanying hot water and pressure it can offer.
Re: Arrivals - Sheremetyevo and the Star Hotel, Moscow
Except it wasn't really just from sitting, was it? It's from the people, too.
He's never minded being surrounded by people: fans, reporters, sponsors, fellow skaters, he enjoys them all. He's used to it, even being away in Japan for the last eight months. The experiences of almost two decades have made the relative quiet of Hasetsu the abnormal, not the usual. There was a strange sensation of homecoming not simply from being back in Russia, seeing the familiar Cyrillic letters on the signage, hearing the language spoken fluidly all around him, but the attention, too. Fans and well-wishers, wanting photographs or a greeting, many flying in for the same competition he's here for.
It's nice. But tiring.
And not nearly as fun for Yuri, who dislikes being in the spotlight nearly as much as Victor enjoys it, and that gives him an excuse to shuffle them out of the airport and into a waiting cab as soon as possible, before slumping back against the seat and smiling over at Yuri, wanting to reach and take his hand. "That could have been worse."
Better still is actually getting to the hotel, even if it's not the best possible choice. It's still a hotel, not a plane or a taxi, and he's grateful for it, and for the ease of checking in before the real rush of skaters and visitors floods the lobby.
But best will be actually getting to the room itself, and taking full advantage of a hotel shower, with all the accompanying hot water and pressure it can offer.