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Strange Dream

Much more detailed than I've had in ages. I was travelling with Penny and possibly some friends, on a vacation or just to travel, but there was a business thing in there. The airport was really clear, a lot like the one in Salt Lake City but then also like the one in Kalispell, Montana, in 1976, and it was in a sort of poorly colorized sepia/black-and-white. There was some stuff involving a hotel which was gorgeous on front and inside, but behind it was a city ravaged by time, neglect, and long-past riots and wars; there was a concrete pad, cracked and with broken off pipes and wiring, broken remnants of walls no more than a few bricks high.

We were somewhere in Europe, though, possibly in England or Italy. And I had managed to score some tickets to Spain online, but they were only good for a specific time and place, and we only had two more days, so I'd miss some of the time, and that was the question: More time to be with the friends there, or the one chance to go see Spain that might not happen again, and maybe miss rejoining them on the way.