I don't often remember my dreams. I won't say I don't have them, but I either forget what they were about or I don't even remember dreaming. Sometimes its sad. But I guess it makes the ones I remember even more special. There are parts of the one I had last night I don't remember exactly. There are parts that make no sense at all. But it was interesting. I know the setting was Spain. I think it was in Eastern Spain, somewhere close to portugal. I also know the region was hilly, and for some reason a lot of people knew English. Here is a little bit of the dream. It kind of sounds like it could be the beginning of a story. Maybe I will have time to write after I graduate in May; I have several stories I would like to finish and maybe finally write a decent book. Feel free to comment after you read it.
The landscape was green with rolling hills. The hotel was comprised of three small, rectangular buildings, all at different elevations on the hill. The buildings looked nice, but old. I couldn’t believe I was finally standing there, and my nerves were standing on end. I was about to check into the hotel in Spain.
“Where do I check in,” I thought to myself, as I walked up toward the first building. I entered and went to the front desk; it was empty. I walked out the back of the building, up to the second and after finding no one at the second continued on up to the third and final building. There was a porch area with screen, and a man sitting inside. I opened the door to find myself behind the counter and he motioned for me to go around, so I did.
“Do you have any rooms,” I asked the man, not thinking about the language I was speaking. He told me he had several rooms and asked me what I would like. He told me the price and I asked, “If I pay for the entire month, can I get a refund if I need to leave earlier? I will be getting an apartment as soon as I know where my job is.” He said I could and so he gave me a key and told me I would be in the first building.
I took a small bag that I had with me and walked toward building one. I used the key to enter the building and found my room. I left my bag and looked around a little. There was a large bed at the far end of the room. A long cabinet ran the length of the wall until a closet at the other end of the room. An ironing board was folded down out of the wall; it appeared as though it could collapse at any time.
“I’m going to be here for a while, I better get to know the area,” I thought. I should go back up to the office and so I left my room. As I was headed to the exit I noticed that another patron’s room was open and decided I had better not leave until I knew they were around and no one could enter the building again. I didn’t think anything of it. Then a dog came from the open room and greeted me. A few minutes later I was out of the building and at the office.
I went in and asked the manager what there was to see in the area and where the market was. Again I thought maybe I should be speaking in Spanish. His English was slow, but it was clear and made sense. I might insult him if I just switched to speaking Spanish.
Later I found myself in a truck, driving around the area. I was the passenger and the driver was driving like a madman. He went up hills and around the curves at fast speeds. “Slow down! It felt like you just about flipped us over the edge of that cliff,” I told him one time, to which he responded, “I know, I thought we were goners!”