In the morning, Ivanchenkov and I drove to the Training Center. The morning was overcast, my mood anxious. I’ve been working toward this second flight for so long, and today I fly to Baikonur. Vitalik is being affectionate, kissing me along the way — he senses his father is leaving for a long time. Before leaving the house, we sat down at the kitchen table and, following tradition, set out bread, salt, and water. Mama, my dear sweet mama, teared up, and Lyusek started crying too. I slapped my knees three times, as is our family custom, and, as they say, with God’s blessing, we stood up and said our goodbyes. As we drove away from the house, I looked up at the balcony and saw my mother wiping away tears. I waved to her. She didn’t see.

At 10:00 there was an interdepartmental commission meeting at the House of Culture in Star City, where they read out that we had been designated the primary crew and presented us with the first diplomas of the newly introduced qualification of cosmonaut-test pilot. After that came a press conference, led by Leonov. When I was asked what the hardest part of training had been, I answered honestly: during preparation, the crew finds itself at the focal point of all the work being done by specific people, groups, and teams; in each of these efforts, some more and some less, there are details that the crew has to track on its own. You’re already up to your neck in training and quite tired as it is, and on top of that you can’t miss the small things that your work in orbit will depend on.

At 12:00 there was a Party meeting. I liked Tolya’s speech. He spoke about how our problems and difficulties are incomparable with what people endured defending the country during the Great Patriotic War and the Civil War. The meeting went well. The backup crew spoke, and Kovalyonok.

We recorded a segment for Sevostyanov’s TV program. When asked “Who helped you the most during training?” Tolya answered: “Valentin.” At 14:15 there was a festive lunch at the health center. In my remarks, I said that when difficulties are behind you, they’re quickly forgotten, and what remains is a bright feeling about the work ahead, in which lies the purpose of our lives. And setting off on the flight, we place our hope in the comrades who trained us — they are our foundation, from them we will draw our strength, for they stand on the Earth while we will work in space. We said goodbye to our wives near the health center. Everyone took a group photo — and into the bus.

At 16:00 we flew to Baikonur. I fell asleep on the plane. The head of the cosmodrome met us; the state commission hasn’t arrived yet, they’ll fly in around May 7th. Here the trees have already leafed out, the temperature is plus 28 degrees. On two buses — one for the primary crew, number 01 with a yellow stripe, and one for the backup crew, number 02 with a green stripe — we drove into town. The whole road had been cleared of traffic, and as we passed through the streets, people would stop and watch us go by. They already know that soon another crew will rise above the city. It was pleasant to ride through springtime Baikonur to music on the bus and songs performed by Kikabidze: “May you all wish each other what I have just wished for you.”

I’m writing at one in the morning local time. This is now lights-out; in Moscow it’s eleven at night. Before bed I watched a film called “The Night Is Short” — a warm film. Tomorrow we begin work at the cosmodrome.