Me dreaming about Sweden. How strange, isn't it? My journey is set for August, but I was already there. It was a warm midsummer night and I was walking through the streets of some Swedish village with my grandma. We were in that part of the city cause my friend Kaos was supposed to be living there. Then, we passed by the Spanish consulate. It was a big, big house, but it didn't say Spain on the plate, but Bilbao (because we're worth it xD).
Walking a bit further, we went into a garage and suddenly got locked in there. I tried pressing the button that was meant to open the gate again, but nothing happened. Fortunately, a young woman appeared. She was tall and thin, wore black clothes and had long, straight, red-brown hair. I thought of talking to her in Swedish, but it was too risky so I asked her in perfect English if she could help us out of there. I was afraid that she thought we were there hiding or to commit some kind of crime, but she was instead so kind and opened the gate for us.
When we got out of there, we met a classmate of mine, Jon, his mom, auntie and, once again, his twin, who I don't know, but it doesn't matter, cause all I have to do in my dream is to replicate my mate's image. After warm greetings, we kept on walking and arrived at a crossroads, square, whatever that was. There were some little, reddish houses, that I think are typical from Visby (Sweden), yet in my head we were in some kind of reproduction of a French village. Near there, there was a huge gothic cathedral. There might be more classmates with me, cause I told another person (someone different from the ones I've mentioned so far) to wait, cause I wanted to take some pics of the church, as I have a soft spot for gothic architecture (I think in real life I don't, but anyway). We kept on walking inside that kind of French village. There was a garden, then a stair and a bar, all in a little square. There was also, outside of the bar a kind of exhibition and there was some sound equipment, similar to the one I have at home. When I jumped the stair, going after the rest of the people, the equipment turned on and I was super embarrased cause I could be accused of touching something that wasn't mine.
However, nothing went wrong, the owner of the bar was a funny Spanish man, that invited us to go into the bar. And so we did, and we also came to the other side and suddenly it was day. We were in a square, it was a hot summer day, and that square seemed like the main square in Aranda de Duero (so hot and sunny in Sweden? How come? I thought).
Some people were there, begging for money, but they weren't normal beggars, they were engaged in some sort of criminal activity, scam or something similar. They started harassing us and suddlenly, I turned left and there was my father (Oh, please, how dodgy, get me outta theeeeere).
Then we change scenes. Completely. In the last part of this strange dream, the scene corresponds to a recursive dream I have. I was with my mom, in her car. She had to drive on mountain roads, with impossible curves and impossible slopes (almost vertical or even worse). I spent all the time thinking how it was possible that we didn't just fall. Finally we came to a plane. We had to stop there so I could have breakfast, because I wouldn't arrive home on time and would have to go straight to university. There was a bar, yet we had our own food. Mom started giving me packets with food, and I didn't know what I had to eat. The waitress told me that it was the same, but mom was speking too much and organising everything in a different way each time she spoke! (What a mess!)
Walking a bit further, we went into a garage and suddenly got locked in there. I tried pressing the button that was meant to open the gate again, but nothing happened. Fortunately, a young woman appeared. She was tall and thin, wore black clothes and had long, straight, red-brown hair. I thought of talking to her in Swedish, but it was too risky so I asked her in perfect English if she could help us out of there. I was afraid that she thought we were there hiding or to commit some kind of crime, but she was instead so kind and opened the gate for us.
When we got out of there, we met a classmate of mine, Jon, his mom, auntie and, once again, his twin, who I don't know, but it doesn't matter, cause all I have to do in my dream is to replicate my mate's image. After warm greetings, we kept on walking and arrived at a crossroads, square, whatever that was. There were some little, reddish houses, that I think are typical from Visby (Sweden), yet in my head we were in some kind of reproduction of a French village. Near there, there was a huge gothic cathedral. There might be more classmates with me, cause I told another person (someone different from the ones I've mentioned so far) to wait, cause I wanted to take some pics of the church, as I have a soft spot for gothic architecture (I think in real life I don't, but anyway). We kept on walking inside that kind of French village. There was a garden, then a stair and a bar, all in a little square. There was also, outside of the bar a kind of exhibition and there was some sound equipment, similar to the one I have at home. When I jumped the stair, going after the rest of the people, the equipment turned on and I was super embarrased cause I could be accused of touching something that wasn't mine.
However, nothing went wrong, the owner of the bar was a funny Spanish man, that invited us to go into the bar. And so we did, and we also came to the other side and suddenly it was day. We were in a square, it was a hot summer day, and that square seemed like the main square in Aranda de Duero (so hot and sunny in Sweden? How come? I thought).
Some people were there, begging for money, but they weren't normal beggars, they were engaged in some sort of criminal activity, scam or something similar. They started harassing us and suddlenly, I turned left and there was my father (Oh, please, how dodgy, get me outta theeeeere).
Then we change scenes. Completely. In the last part of this strange dream, the scene corresponds to a recursive dream I have. I was with my mom, in her car. She had to drive on mountain roads, with impossible curves and impossible slopes (almost vertical or even worse). I spent all the time thinking how it was possible that we didn't just fall. Finally we came to a plane. We had to stop there so I could have breakfast, because I wouldn't arrive home on time and would have to go straight to university. There was a bar, yet we had our own food. Mom started giving me packets with food, and I didn't know what I had to eat. The waitress told me that it was the same, but mom was speking too much and organising everything in a different way each time she spoke! (What a mess!)
