Switzerland on the Pyrenees

There was a "Spanish Switzerland". Somehow this country was close to the Pyrenees. I had left everything and I had settled down here, at least for now.
We left the cinema, it was a double session and we had to pick up another corridor to get to see the second movie. We went into the toilet, chatting. The girl who accompanied me was blond and young. I was surprised to see that we entered the same toilet, there was no separate places. The feeling was as when you go with a mate, that each one go to one side and keep on talking with your partner while you're pissing. In the meantime, boys and girls didn't stop entering, they went about their business and nobody bothered anybody.
We went down and asked for the hall to take us to the next film. The clerk seemed to feel a little uncomfortable aswering us, apparently the situation wasn't very clear: they were making improvements ... was not easy ... We were suggested for a road and we did so. We dove into a kind of subway tunnel under construction, where we were dodging the many obstacles, steel beams across the middle, lots of welding sparks ... we decided to quickly get out of this site, and at the end of this tunnel that made us so unconfortable, we ended into a snowy mountain landscape in which we were more relaxed.
My partner was blonde, not particularly elegant, it was neither pretty nor ugly. She was my girlfriend, she didn't ask me for any in particular, I didn't ask for anything especial either. It was a perfect balance. His face told me "don't be afraid, Everything is gonna be allright" the way is usual on developed countries.
In this "Spain Switzerlanded" Spanish and English was spoken, it was not especially cold, and things seemed to be as they should be: easy, without violence, coercion, bad vibes ... everything was transparent and intelligent.

Ibiza, deep blue sea

It was a cove in Ibiza. A deep, clear creek. Javi and I was with a girl (I think it was Laura). In the middle of the creek was a large rock formation. I looked at the bottom and one of its concavities showed a kind of submerged door. A blue wooden door similar to those of the fishermen's huts. I ventured out and managed to force the door, which gave access to housing installed on this rock, a small house full of paintings and art objects made by hand. The people who lived in the house was typical of artistic and creative ideas.
There was a girl who introduced me. I can not remember the conversation, but I was like a fish in water. My only concern was that my classmates had seen me dive and had not emerge for several hours. Everything I experienced there was very interesting and intense. Eventually turned into a nightmare, as my purpose of getting out to reassure my friends just can not be satisfied.

Sailing on calm waters

I Was on the roof of a huge skyscraper. I was with a woman who could be my family, or rather in my group of friends. We were all middle class, and we were in New York City or some similar.
As we talked, on the roof took place a tremendous storm of rain and wind that shook the building structure, but was rather an earthquake which, after a great fussiness, he split the building half, as if it were a chalk, and we both looked at each other realizing that it was the end. It was a look stunned and senseless, faithless, because nobody is prepared for death and until the last moment think that is an absurd dream.
The noise was tremendous, violent, even painful at first, but then there was calm. This is the best part of the dream: the death was represented by sailing paper boats on still waters. I was one of those boats, my subjectivity emerging from one of them and looked around everyone else. I was horrified when discovered that I was dead.
Afterwards, the return to my middle-classed friends in his great buildings. They saw me, but payed no attention on me, I couldn't even reveal my identity. Everything was an attempt to give them advice through hints to make better of their lives. I, as a non-existent, was unable to love, and this gave me a deep melancholy.

Savannah Quake

My will was to leave for a distant country to experience an earthquake (apparently I'd left this only thing to expecience). The trip had to be magical and so, by my own will, the conditions were created inside the elevator one day and suddenly felt something, kind of change of atmosphere, a feeling. I felt the elevator mirror had become light as the water surface. I transferred half of my body and I hesitated at the same time I reproached my hesitation, this situation was just as I had wanted for some time. Finally transferred the whole mirror: there was an African night a little shaken, because for all cars in circulation paths. We approached a group of girls who spoke no English, only one of them said she had been working in London for a while. She smiled and articulated her poor English.
Then we knew the existence of an ancient tribe who lived in a skyscraper in the middle of the Savannah. It was a curious thing, since the skyscraper was huge, built of adobe, and wasn't well understood, such huge building in place plenty of room. The case reached the hilarious in trasport matters, since they had an only bus which imitated his home (but smaller, of course) and they could be seen through the Savannah, with a long, narrow vehicle, a vertical block fixing poorly balance along the Savannah.
Finally, the earth shook, the earthquake struck. The girls were still with us. I calmed them, we were in no danger in the middle of the Savannah.

the magnificent city

There was a mythical city. It was surrounded by mountains of 9,000 meters. The city layed in a great plain, despite the rugged terrain that surrounded it, and the mountains could be seen at the end of the streets as huge curtains in which however there was no snow, only dense and every kind of dark trees. All that rocky peaks were to be trimmed in whimsical shapes to backlight the sky. I was in a car with someone, and told him what was my feeling when I got here. The city was really fantastic and the scene in which was located became a special place, unlike anything known.

The stone horses

There was the typical big farm in Cordoba. I had lost a plane. I had a meetig with Yvonne in Barajas, but I didn't have her phone number to warn her I wasn't there. I woke late and didn't arrive on time.

In the farm we were on a sunny terrace, there were many people. The terrace overlooked a deep valley, with terraces cut fastened, which sank in a majestic horizont. Speculated the possibility of flying over it, but people did not dare, I said that on a calm day it would be possible. Someone said this was not the deepest valley, there was another even larger.
In the farm there were some deep-rooted customs. Was a standard in the region and had up their own games, just by way of Basque customs, where everything comes from very old. In the central courtyard, roofed, was developing a game in which many people interacted, it was a kind of reality show. I said I did't like it, another girl said that was not bad. Then came a kind of tragedy with only two actors, he and she played a love affair. They Lost in the intricacies of the battlements of the farm, which was almost a castle, I encouraged to follow them. I searched for a ladder, but found nothing. At the end I saw a hollow, cylindrical, formed with small blocks of stone, rising in spirals to infinity. Had merit to go there, because it was closer and closer and I was stuck several times so distressing. But it's worth: I went to a roof surrounded by battlements where two stone horses were playing around. It was a stone that emitted an aura of light. When they noticed my presence, I shuddered, and immediately became dragons amid snorts and fuss, and they lost in the intricacies of what already was a castle.

The aristocratic house

There was a big house. It was on the hands of Nazis but now was given back to his main owners, some aristocrats. The house was some kind of chalet, squared, two floors and penthouse, with parquet on the floor, very luminous. the bricklayers were still working in, finishing the work and, meanwhile, a lot of people was wandering all over the place, chatting, looking around... the house was very confortable. There was no forniture, but everywhere on the steps and floor, a lot of design objets were layout, all them very original but still simple, no one complicated or flashy. All of us were same aged more or less, among 25 and 29. Girls were all pretty and seemed to live there, because all them were sleepy and sleepweared. No one was provocative. There was lingerie spreaded on the footsteps so that, walking barefoot, I was bound to avoid every objets I found on my path. There was a pool in the courtyard, with different kind of sand around it, rare but very confortable to walk in, everything there seemed to be ready for refinement and luxury.
So, the owners, aristocrats, were showing the house to all of us. I was there like everywhere: by chance and not deserving it. I was a stranger in all this. The point was, there were some guys left. There were too much guys and was prepared some casting or competition to match both genres. I say again I was very relaxed, because I did't consider myself as a model and was certain not to be choosed; I was just enjoying the time till the momment they told me to go.
Casting started, each boy came from a different country and with a "leid-motiv", in some way like in the pc games. The landlady was in charge to choose the ones. Here I woke up.
The night before I just ended the reading of "The Science tree" of Pio Baroja, reading that gave me a good taste feeling.