My summer vacation in France (not really)

Also a dream from last night.

I was watching a movie or TV program. A scene showed the view from inside a car. A sign on a wall at the side of the road read C doesn’t live here. (C is guy I actually used to know. The sign had his full name, which is quite an unusual name.) I had to figure out this mystery, and so I went to visit the people living around where this was filmed. It was a man and a couple of women, living in a luxurious house with a swimming pool. The man seemed like a movie star or a rock star. It turned out they had put the sign up as some kind of joke, because they had had an encounter with C some time ago. He had come to sell them something, but they weren’t interested. For some reason he had hung around anyway, coming back several times. He had become interested in one of the women, pursuing her. They thought he was kind of pathetic. I was sitting outside by the pool, listening to this story. It was summer. I had a glass of Coke with ice cubes in it. I was trying to read the ice cubes, as they were each shaped like a letter, but it was hard because of the dark color of the liquid and the fact that they were partially melted. What I really wanted to do was rearrange them in some way, so as to use the ice cubes as a search engine to find out more about C and his history with this place.

Some parts of the dream may be missing, but I was now in a big house, with several rooms, halls and hallways. The decor was brown, classy, with leather and dim lights, and there were lots of people. I was walking down the stairs and C’s old girlfriend was walking past me. She didn’t recognize me. I thought that I had to consult my mother about this. (This is probably partially based on reality, since it turned out some time ago that my mother was working with C’s old girlfriend. She had never met her before, but I’d realized it was her from what my mother happened to say about her.)

I went down the stairs to a big hall and to a table where someone I thought was my mother was sitting with some other people. The person said that he was in fact F (a friend of mine). I then realized that they just looked alike. (In real life they don’t, and he doesn’t look like a woman nor my mother like a man.) I said to him that of course I knew it was him, because I recognized his voice. F told me that mothers and such were not allowed inside with the others, and had to stay in tents outside. It seems that this was some kind of convention. I asked him whether I could grant my mother permission to come inside, but he said that only the management could grant that permission.

I went outside to see her. Since I had no idea where the campsite was, I decided to call her on my cell phone. The place I was leaving was a huge castle, very tall. The word château came to my mind. There was a beautiful landscape all around, hills, clear blue sky, warm weather. Quite a distance behind the castle was another one, stretching up into the sky, its top in a haze. There were no other building in view. I reached my mother on the phone, but it was a bad connection. She told me the name of the place where she was; it was a French sounding name. I had no idea where it was and there was no one around. I was walking down a road, but didn’t know whether it was the right direction. She said that where she was it was very cold and lots of snow. A strong gale was blowing on her end, making it difficult to hear what she was saying as she was trying to explain her location. I said that it was odd, because the sky was blue where I was.

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