(previous Blogger post, December 11, 2006, Monday)

My wanderlust kicked in again, though only in my dreams. Twice in four nights I dreamed that I was back in Paris – with a side trip to India! How I wish it would come true. Here’s what transpired (note: locations mentioned in Paris are actual places that I’ve visited; the one in India is totally a figment of my dream):

The first night I dreamed that I was hurrying my friend Tintin through the Louvre. The museum became one giant art shop, and I was eager to find and buy an antique jewelry box that I particularly liked before the museum closed for the day. I also asked her if she wanted to see the Mona Lisa along the way, but I think I was the one more eager to pass by the paintings section of the museum. It wasn’t clear if I was able to find the jewelry box I was looking for, but the dream ended when we reached Cour Napoleon, the hall under the famous glass pyramid.

In my second dream, I was with my high school friends this time around. I was guiding them around the city and they asked to see the Eiffel Tower. We took the Metro but I couldn’t decide whether to take them first to Palais de Chaillot, which has a great view of the tower, or to take them directly to the tower itself. In the end, I decided on the first option since I couldn’t remember the Metro station that’s nearest to the Eiffel Tower, haha! (P.S. I actually remembered the name of the station when I woke up – Bir Hakeem). Anyways, we bought tickets (I could clearly see those green Metro tickets with the RATP logo in my dream) and I asked for directions to the platform where we could find the train that goes to Trocadero. This scene actually happened for real when I was there. When we got to the platforms, it transformed into a chaotic train station in India! Trains come almost every minute, each with different destinations. These trains looked like the Indian trains that I see on TV. I told my friends not to hop in on the first train that comes since it might be heading in the opposite direction. I can’t remember how that dream ended. The last thing that was clear was a Metro train approaching.

It still amazes me that I remember the names of places and Metro stations even after several years, yet I couldn’t remember what I had for dinner several days ago. And these are not English names! I guess it’s a measure of how much I love foreign places. I still know the names of a lot of the small towns and barrios in the Philippines that I’ve visited or passed through. I don’t know if a lot of people always dream of different places when they sleep. In my case, if I were to tally the topics of my dreams, foreign lands would be near, if not on the top of the list. I’ve dreamed in detail of places that I’ve never even visited. I really hope I’m destined for a life of travel, since each job I’ve had unexpectedly brought me to different places, and me and my friends have always made a conscious effort to go a new place at least once a year. I don’t want a cure for the travel bug.

Here’s a photo of me in Paris, in front of the Arc de Triomphe. Since I was all by myself on that trip, I asked a group of Japanese tourists if one of them could take my picture. They barely understood and spoke English so it took a lot of sign language before we understood each other. But it was fun, and they were very nice and friendly. I’m barely recognizable, being heavily bundled in winter clothes. What else do you expect when you send out a girl from the tropics in the dead of winter?

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