This is the first of a three part series of poems on a theme. I wrote them all together as verses, however it seemed a little long so I thought why not make them into 3 parts.
In my dreams I sometimes dance,
As I would if I’d had the chance.
Standing around they begin to laugh,
No chance for me to choreograph.
It is my turn, I begin to stand.
No one there to take my hand.
So what happens if during it all,
A wrong turn I drop or fall?
As I spin my world around and round,
A moments’ freedom that I’ve found.
Upon my axis, steps I learn,
Acceptance is what I yearn.
The first audition, I take the stage.
This can be fun at any age.
My limits show in this performance,
As though life depends on it, I dance.
My efforts rewarded with a frown,
As though I am some sort of clown.
My inexperience will always show,
To professionals in the know.
But one is out there standing still,
Smiling back and enjoying the thrill.
He sees in me what I thought I could,
It didn’t really matter if I should.
I dance the bar and learned the steps,
It seems I should have no regrets.
He turns to me and begins to say,
You took a chance didn’t throw it away.
You danced your heart out, your own take.
In your own way and you weren’t a fake.
Although applause are barely audible,
I find your efforts were laudable.
There’s something there, you’re a natural
But this was a dream, it’s not factual.
So as I return home after a month in the Beautiful Queensland Coast with my dear friends, I am struck by how down to earth I felt about this wonderful place. I immediately felt homely in this unknown place. As I left I knew that I would miss the family so much and that saying my Goodbyes would be difficult. But we are all happy in the knowledge that this will not be my last trip to Australia. It is just the beginning of my travels to this part of the world. I guess that hasn’t quite sunken in yet as I sit on the first leg of the flight home. I have rung my partner and heard that they are alright (as alright can be) at home and as my friends family will all be asleep now having journeyed back to Eudlo, where they all stay, part of me is wishing that I was also tucked up in a nice warm bed, but that is for tomorrow.
As I figure out in my fuzzy head a way to get my family over to Australia in one piece, if only it is his dream too, I could perhaps satisfy my wanderlust with regular trips if some of my contacts might put some work my way. Time to make a few more phone calls I think.
Today, my last day in Australia, we visited Coolum Beach, a lovely area which was absolutely littered with blue jellyfish, which apparently have a vicious sting to their rather lengthy tail.
Since I was attacked by a green ant only yesterday, I was not inclined to repeat the exercise with one of these beasties today, so we dodged rather a lot of them along the beach, but the waves were high, we wrote messages on the sand, whilst the boys played and ran up and down. The sun was shining and I looked at the iridescence of the water as the tides crossed my path. It was beautiful and for a moment, I lingered there not wanting to leave.
Swept away in the moment I was transfixed by the waves which reached the shore. Only being brought back to the present when the boys called out to us.
We went on to Coloundra, which is a favourite since my friends Mum currently lives there and it is where they began their time here, just after emigrating. There was a fish restaurant which served wet fish too, it was on a main road, not particularly inspiring as places go, but my meal was enjoyable nevertheless Calamari and Swordfish steaks served with chips and a side salad.
I was quite pleased to see a Pelican fly over the car as we arrived along the beach front and he rested upon the wall of a block of flats. I managed to get a photograph of him before we left. Another thing that I will remember of Coloundra.
There is snow back home, just a few small flurries here and there so I am told, but I hope that he brings a warm coat to the airport, despite the layers I have packed, I know that after the warmth of the Sunshine Coast I am really going to feel the cold at least for the first few days. I may even have to resort to Thermals, but lets hope not.
So what will I be taking with me from this trip?
Positivity, that there is so much that is better and that is actually available to me in this life, not having to wait until the next one to experience it all.
Do I believe in reincarnation…
Hmm, although I have long thought that we get one life and should live it. It’s one of those things that I hope that we do get some kind second chance if the odds have been against us in this life thus far. Not necessarily if we live a pure and chaste existence, but if we do good unto others, try to help people along the way and such like.
I have met up with someone who gave me some wonderful advice regarding writing. She has been an inspiration for looking for the good in things, even when I have felt really low. To meet her in person after all this time, could have gone well, or not and neither of us were sure. We arranged to meet in the last week of my trip. Over a coffee and cake. It was an absolute joy to spend an hour or so with her, chatting about all kinds of things and finding out that we got along just fine. It seems that we have indeed become friends and we will be keeping in touch.
As we drove back from the beach and I squashed all of my luggage into my cases in the hope that I didn’t have to take anything out. My beach combed shells carefully placed in the luggage so that they will not get broken. The beautiful “Blue Shell” given me by my friend, who said I should have it. We sat outside on her verandah in the sunshine and made jewellery from the Quandong stones which we had collected from the garden. Or rather, I drilled the holes, my friend strung them and made them into two rather lovely necklaces, which are enormous, almost architectural in their style. But I also learned that sacred jewellery is made from them by the Aborigines.’ The kids decided since there were so many of them left over, that they would also make some one for their mum and one for a friend and each other. We had picked up and cleaned up much more of them than we first thought from the garden and yet they still litter the floor at the back of the house, there are probably thousands of them and there will be many more when fruit season comes around. It is a shame that I did not get to see the blue fruit, but they have long gone, only the debris remains. But we have seen the jewellery made by the monks at the nearby Buddhist Temple, Chenrezig up on the hill nearby. The only difference being that they have added a bead and tassle to their ones. Ours are simpler, but hang beautifully as a double necklace, made by my own dear friend. There is one for me and one for my mother. Along with a bracelet one of the boys and I made from all of the beach shells and coral that had natural holes in.
I tasted custard apple for the first time today, it has an interesting taste, I think I am more taken with the Mangoes and also the quite amazing Fruit Salad Fruit, a strange looking fruit which as it ripens and sheds its outer skin, you are left with something which resembles a skinned banana, but you can taste so many other fruit.
We each described it differently after a taste, one thought pineapple, another melon, and another banana.
I tried Jack Fruit, which is another native one, it looks a bit like a hedgehog on the outside and has a pungent smell to it when it is ripe, but makes an awful mess and leaves a glue like substance, its sap which is difficult to remove, on everything that it touches. It was my friends’ first taste of the fruit too, she had read that you could prepare it and use it like a vegan version pulled pork, which is very popular. It had a sweet taste in its raw form, which was quite pleasant, definitely fruity. But once cooked takes on a whole new persona. It lost its appeal somewhat and then only took on the taste of the spices and sauce which it was cooked in. So isn’t something I’d be likely to try again.
I thought that I would do some things differently whilst I was away, but didn’t. Firstly I thought that I would write lots of poetry, but didn’t write any at all.
I also thought that I would meditate but although there were times when I sought peace and calm I did not, not even once! Well, not intentionally although the calm swept over me every time my toes hit the sand.
I thought that I might struggle to drive a manual car again on roads which I do not know, with the different layout and rules, but I took to it once again like a duck to water. One drive out in the car, ten minutes in and it all came flooding back to me, the first drive in an unknown place. The South of France all those years ago, it was as natural as breathing. I soon learned some of the routes to enable us to get back home. We did have the mobile sat nav, but when the signal was non existent or the batteries low, we somehow still made it back.
The fact that I was open to trying new things, experiences and directions, meant that this was the holiday that I needed it to be, filled with wonderful places, beautiful sights, friendly and welcoming people. It was a very pleasant surprise to be wished a safe journey, by the people I met around the town before I left. They had observed my arrival, as a tired unwell traveller and observed the change in me finding my feet and would all stop to talk and find out what I thought of their little town.
The nearest town Mooloolah is more like one of our villages, spread out over a greater area, but with similar facilities to a British country village. A few essential stores and a fuel station, but there is a good network of regular trains going past at the bottom of the garden. I have never seen such lengthy freight trains, but maybe next time when I return to this part of the world, I will take a journey on the train with my friend.
As I said Goodbye to the house, the area, my friends and their transport which has carried me safely on this journey, I watched the greenery whizzing by as a passenger in the car, thinking of many of the things that have captured my heart about this place and the many things I have yet to see and feeling quite emotional about leaving.
I will return one day, to my friends again and this place which has captured not just the imagination, but reignited my spirit of adventure and also a little piece of my heart. There is so much to see and I have barely scratched the surface, I simply have to see more.
The weather reported that the cyclone was passing over right where they were. It could have hit at any time. They had been expecting it for days, battening down the hatches and protecting the house and garden hoping that the damage it might cause if any would be minimal.
So far they had been safe. But now at that moment on this day, louder than ever the sea was calling them, they went to answer the call.
Travelling to the beach, there was no sign of bad weather. The sky was bright and clear, a real blue sky for miles with no grey of rain. They parked and bought refreshments at the nearby café. As they stumbled across the sand, past the lake and up the dunes to the top, they paused as they were met with an almost empty beach, no crazy surfers hitting the waves for once heeding the warnings of danger.
The occasional local wandering along, with dogs, racing through the sand and water, charging around barking excitedly. Or others with some companions walking and taking in the spectacle of it all. Lifeguards on patrol retrieving rubbish from the beach, no one out at sea for miles around. She stopped for a moment, looking out with her friend at the softest sand and crystal blue sea gazing in wonder at the sight before them. A wall of waves and foam, about 40 feet in height, the sand being swept up crashing upon the shoreline and their faces.
Suddenly there they were, like little storm hunters barefoot and racing towards it, they ran into the water. Embracing the storm for a moment the wind lashing at their faces and sand biting their skin, cleansed by the elements.
They had gone expecting to find great treasures washed upon the shore, a storm can bring such wonderful things to the beachcomber. Alas, no sooner had the large waves brought in an abundance of things, which they scurried to collect, then another would arrive to sweep the beach clear once again. The beautiful shells and things being replaced by fragments, shattered in the process. But they did not cause sadness, they held a beauty all of their own. For the storm granted them freedom. Yes, freedom to run to jump, to think and to breathe.
They stood, transfixed as the waves grew and broke before them, such power which no one could harness. Nature at its finest and there she walked along, arms outstretched, welcoming it all with a radiant smile. Suddenly with all the previous stresses of her mind now gone, washed away by the storm carefree she walked along with her friend, both of them in silence at the wonder of it all.
Returning in the direction of the car, greeted by wet dogs and smiling people along the way, she thought quietly of her loved ones at home and the moment they had missed. This glorious beach which would be the perfect place to walk, hand in hand with her lover and their beloved dog racing towards the surf. Wind in his fur, tail held high in excitement, hardly anyone around. Miles and miles of pure white sand, not littered by rubbish, but freshly groomed by nature for their pleasure. Her friend in tune with her suddenly voicing the same thoughts agreed, they should be here to enjoy this too it would be the perfect beach for them.
There is something quite surreal to be looking out of the window of an aeroplane at 4.30am local time cruising at 41000 feet past Baghdad and seeing a beautiful full moon out of the window. Lights of an unknown landscape are scattered below me.
At times, it looks like we have somehow come to a halt in the sky, so it’s difficult to believe that we are actually travelling at almost 600 miles per hour.
I didn’t think for a minute when we booked the flight about the countries it would pass over on the way around the world. Bizarrely it didn’t even cross my mind, but as I look at the flight path and it takes me past so many areas that have appeared in the news over the past few years and months, it does get me thinking. But I am not worried, just thinking…
En route we have passed Germany, Belgrade, Budapest, Istanbul.
The awesomeness of this trip of a lifetime suddenly kicks in and I am feeling such gratitude for the opportunity that has been given to me.
I remembered that I thoroughly enjoy flying. The take off, being in the air, the views from the window. Where we I travel once I am on the plane all of the stress that I have felt in preparing for the trip, after the meltdown of finding the airline had cut the luggage allowance, once I had arrived at the airport is gone and but a memory.
As I continue to write we are flying on past Basrah. I don’t know what I expected to see through the clouds it looks just like any other area at night.
The world feels such a small place when you view things on the map and you remember people you have met and the places that they come from. I find myself thinking “ So I know someone from Tehran”, as though they live just up the road and I could pop in to see them.
Many years ago I had a boyfriend whose family were from Kuwait. Although I have never visited these places before, there is something that links me to them as I travel on this journey.
The hostess has just handed me a hot tortilla wrap. It was unexpectedly delicious. It is 2am at home and I wouldn’t normally eat a chickpea curry wrap at that time of the morning, or even anything similar to it but extenuating circumstances apply. Like that occasional naughty kebab on the way home after night outs in my youth.
So although I might body is starting to tire, I didn’t sleep much last night either due to last minute packing and excitement. But I dozed earlier and have awoken with renewed energy and enthusiasm at what else I will see on the next leg of the journey.
Between the snatched sleep I have been listening to Jazz and relaxing chill out tunes. Since my eyes are tired and dry I didn’t want to try and keep track of a fast moving screen with a movie if I was to have any hope of sleep.
I took a little walk around this level of the airbus earlier, since nice my hips were threatening cramp and realised that there were lots of empty seats, people camped out with legs sticking out of blankets everywhere and the poor tired baby who cried for the first two hours has finally gone to sleep. Alas I spoke too soon and the little one has started up again. It always makes me want to give them a cuddle and see if I can help. Sometimes I miss that connection from a past life as a babysitter and honorary auntie.
We have Dammam and Bahrain left on our way to Abu Dhabi and will arrive in about an hour from now. So far it’s been a lovely flight as it is just getting light and the scenery changes again we are blessed with the sunrise from the tail camera on the plane and a new day in this time zone at least. Welcome to March.
As she lay down to sleep, her eyes closing from tiredness.
She asked for her angels to protect her and her loved ones. To keep evil away so that they might be safe and happy and they gain rest and recovery from ailments and worries.
She can see flowers, as though someone has scattered them above her, burgundy and white but she is not sure what they are.
Once again the buzzing of the nerves through her body, like a telephone ringing in her leg. Starting at the toes and radiating up the leg. The wake up call as it were. Does she have a direct line to them she wondered. Do they answer my call in this way?
She was shaken just once but as though two hands rest on her shoulders, were vying for her attention.
Just as she wanted to sleep. Ah insomnia my old friend, so you are back again she thought.
So she waited, willing for sleep to arrive and as she did so it began. The swirling lights on the inside of her eyelids and all around her as she breathed slowly and rhythmically and tried to relax. I think she knew what to expect. This time green mixed with blue, white and gold. Like her very own Aurora Borealis happening right there above her head, a long awaited dream coming true.
Opening her eyes she was not surprised that as before she was wide awake again. Suddenly no longer tired, the body momentarily invigorated by the experience. It happens again and she can still see the lights above her. Reassurance that I did not dream it.
The dog awakes from the other room, not excited by this spectacle, he does not run to look. She does not even know if he sees it or senses it. He takes a leisurely drink and comes to settle at her side just as the light show ends. But she cannot sleep and neither can he, he returns to the darkness of the next room huffing gently that his own sleep was disturbed again but not really knowing why. He will be back when it has settled down. As her body cries out for he sleep and let it wash over her, like the waves of tiredness, rest assured he will be there a furry assistant watching her back. As she drifts off and she looks up the reassuring image before her, that of two hearts in the doorway, beating and pulsating where once was darkness stood.
Some time passes and some sleep is gained before swallowing hard as the noise of piano keys crashing is in her ears. This sudden noise a rude awakening as she is awake once more but comforted by the breathing of the hound who has returned to the side of the bed she realises the message is loud and clear, that love is strong and all that matters.
And after staggered sleep she wakes to the blessing of being able to welcome another day, the sun rising on the new horizon colourful and bright and offering her new hope. Thanking them for the comfort they bring her on the darkest night. The gratitude that she holds for these special moments, the thoughts that she has been part of something special. A shooting star perhaps, flying through the cosmos on its way to somewhere new. A new galaxy to explore, reborn with new light to shine.
Suddenly awake again without warning. The thud of a heartbeat filled her ears just like the bass sound of music in a passing car. Thud thud thud thud. Her heart suddenly racing and she wondered why.
Looking up as her eyes grew accustomed to the surroundings she noticed the thin figure in the darkness leaning against the doorframe. As it often did but this time just standing there considering it’s next move.
As the dark figure loomed in the doorway, its shape changing with every breath she lay there wide eyed. As it began to head towards her she sent it away. Those all too familiar words, Be gone. You do not belong here. Just get out.
She wished that it would leave her alone. It was never a happy feeling, she didn’t trust it for she had felt its cold grip on many occasions as it grabbed at her, always waking her from her slumber. But she did not allow it to strike fear in her any more, it did not have that power, as time went on she was gaining strength again. It was just an annoyance that disturbed her.
So was it a dream? An annoying recurring dream, that changed and mutated along with the dark character, shifting its shape as she questioned her thoughts.
She waited…. the darkness left and with it, came a warm feeling from her feet through her legs like she had felt previously. Again it moved through her and as it reached her head it pounded. Lightheaded as though to be let out as the light danced around the room above her. Little flickers of blue and white, it was usually blue and white but occasionally red and green and yellow too.
The lights although barely visible swirled above her and danced around her, she wondered what they were. A trick of light perhaps her conscious mind thought, or had they some deeper meaning? Whatever their purpose she gained comfort from them whenever they were there. A warmth spread around her like a blanket of reassurance and she felt totally safe. Somehow empowering her along the way and equipping her for some unknown battle. Suddenly she let out her breath and as she did so a sound not dissimilar to a popping bulb and then she saw it, clearly above her in big white letters RELEASE
She took another deep breath and let it out the warmth spreading through her body once again a calm feeling took over as though a storm had passed her by. Some kind of lucky escape.
As she lay there willing her breathing to return to normal she thought about what had happened and wondered as to why. What was its message or purpose?
She grabbed her phone, looked at the clock 3.33am again what did it all mean?
Every once in a while we allow ourselves the luxury of dreaming. I am not speaking of the dreams that just happen at night over which we have no control. I am talking about if things were different for us…
For instance if we could purchase a property in France and eke out a living somehow and live out his dream of living in the warmth of the Mediterranean sun. It is where he wants to be, with every passing year he thinks that it is slipping away and it deeply saddens him and I to think that it may not happen for him. I want to see his dream and wish come true, I just don’t know how to make it happen in the life that we currently have. Another massive change that’s needed before it could. He is older than me by several years and he does not want to end his days in the little place in the South, or in Scotland where the weather is damp and unforgiving to a man with osteo-arthritis and who has been unwell for a long time.
So that is how it happens. An actual dream, which is then discussed with the other (in which we are living in some old house) or quite simply, one or the other of us begins to search online for French property once again in the search for the perfect place as shown in a dream.
A week ago, I dreamt about a house, it didn’t look particularly French in its design, but in the dream it was coastal France and we were travelling. Upon waking I remembered the name of two places. I felt that one of them was in Spain but I looked it up and it didn’t exist. But the other place along the coast that I was looking for, St Coulomb it turns out is off the coast of St Malo. This is not the Southern France that he craves but much nearer to the UK.
So the search began for a beach house in my dream, on a rocky bay where apparently we had gone for a holiday previously and I was suddenly in a position to purchase for us, except I was up and down the road and couldn’t find it again. I met him down the road and we began to look for it together. We knocked at the door to ask if we could go inside and shortly after that I woke up.
So I looked online at a favourite website or two, for property in that area. Then we talked about it since everything was way out of a budget that we often set for ourselves which is based on a figure we see as realistic for our Scotland home. One of us said that it was the wrong part of France and so I looked in The Midi-Pyrenees region. Non specific to town, just to see what was about.
It started out as harmless browsing and rapidly became a bit of a mission for the needy few days whilst I had felt unwell. It kind of lifted the spirits as it so often does when we allow ourselves this dream. I was met with 136 pages containing 3241 listings of houses. At the time I thought that I would look at a few of them, but every time the computer went on I found myself looking again at them. After the first day I had covered 60 pages of them. The second day I was up to 100 and the. I thought, I may as well look at all of them.
The houses are many and varied as you would expect. My criteria was that it has to have land, more than two bedrooms and I had to think of a figure.
So I only looked at those (unless it looked very special indeed)
Although many people might see this as a monotonous task I had set myself, In conclusion it has offered clarity on a couple of things, so that should the time come I will have a better idea of what would suit our ideal and what I would like to do in the future. It seems that our dreams often intertwine and have a crossover. I would have liked to run a B&B Chambre d’hotes business whereas he would be happier with our own private space and the responsibility of cooking for our guests. The ideal solution being to run self contained Gites instead which he seems happy for me to do.
When I was a little girl I dreamed of living on a farm or small holding and in the past few years since we got the cottage in Scotland it seemed as though we were getting nearer to that happening. A beautiful place surrounded by Farmland with enough land to make a start. If only I could get it finished and we could actually live there all year round we would know if we could. But then life dealt us some cruel blows and our health has suffered and I don’t even know if we could do that if we wanted to. The limitations that have reared their heads over the years often makes us rethink the possibilities. I would still love that farm, the practicality would be that we get people in to help us run it. Since I have no knowledge of animal husbandry or agriculture it is pure fantasy based on where I would like to live. Surrounded by land which no one can take away or build some monstrosity upon and a place where I can be immersed in nature.
So through this self imposed house search I looked at all the possibilities. I found some amazing properties which captured the imagination and was surprised at the effect it had upon my finding an architect designed single house built in the 1950’s with many inbuilt original features. It looked like a sprawling 4 bed bungalow but had a basement too like many French properties do. It was a bit of a marmite house. You’d either love it or hate it. For two days I couldn’t get it out of my head and he loved it too with it’s acre of flat land in a village it was not isolated and would have made a lovely garden with plenty of running space for the dog.
But then it wasn’t what we had talked about. It had no space to grow our options. No outbuildings for a Gite what would we do for an income I asked. Yes it would be a great retirement home all on one level for those with a pension and who are financially independent. But we are not. That’s when the reality kicks in and ruins the dream aspect. I need a job, either that or a lottery win. But certainly the means with which to support us all. He may be in his sixties now, but I am only in my forties. I cannot retire for about twenty five years if I am lucky. He has no private pension pot to keep him in luxury and so it is likely that it will be down to me to raise funds in whatever way I can as time goes on.
No if it’s going to happen then it must have land and outbuildings.
I found a place in the woods, near a river, on a mountain pass. It was a pretty place with a view of the mountains and river but the house held no allure for me at all. “You could make it special” he said. It had no inside toilet and I don’t fancy going outside in the freezing cold and the land around the house was steep and terraced. Since it was built into a slope, I couldn’t immediately see a way to connect the toilet facilities to the house. So I rather ruled it out.
There were houses in acres of Woodland with no one around. I must admit that holds its appeal still, but then I would need to be mobile and not cut off completely from the outside world.
There were Masters houses, grand looking country houses resembling small mansions on the edges of villages or towns.
There were houses with character and big gardens in villages with huge vegetable plots.
There were empty unloved farmhouses with crumbling barns filled with relics of machinery.
I found one such place which has 43 acres of land, barns and an old farmhouse on a hill surveying all of its land looking out across fields and woods. It has a magical quality about it that I like.
He asked but what would you do with your own village?
My response, I’ll think of something.
I even found a small vineyard.
After three days of looking I realised that I would not settle for a modern house. It would be big and sprawling with lots of rooms, loads of space and enough land around it so that I do not feel cramped I will one day be a little old lady walking around a big house. Hopefully with a beloved dog at my side and maybe with a companion to keep me from losing my marbles. It may keep me busy looking after it all. I don’t have children to leave it to but I hope that I will always have friends who will visit and come to stay. To enjoy the hospitality and company and that I will not be alone far away from any loved ones that I still have.
It’s funny that I mentioned earlier that our dreams intertwine and crossover. As I wrote this I meant that we sometimes wish for the same things. But there is another strange thing after I began writing this yesterday morning I had no conversation about the subject. Suddenly at around midnight last night my partner was telling me about a dream he was having in the early hours of the morning. As it turns out it was when I was awake writing this in fact, but I was not doing so even in the same house. He said that he remembered it so vividly and with intricate detail.
We were walking along the beach near St Malo and I was talking to him about a boat. He loves a boat and has craved owning another since letting his one go some years ago. In truth I think that he has regretted it and so it is often something he talks of again. Apparently I had chosen for him a 24ft cruiser which could be moored at St Malo so that he could go out fishing. He used to skipper fishing trips and would happily make that his vocation once again. We were just getting on the boat so that I could show him it and Roki our dog who doesn’t like water was the first to clamber on and found the best spot up at the helm with me. He asked him where he would sit and the dog just sat there laughing. So my partner had to sit at the back of the boat and told me that I would take them fishing then. We were also discussing going back up the road to show him a house on the beach which we had passed earlier. I said that I really hoped he would like it, he said what if I don’t and I told him I hoped that he would like it since I had already bought it.
He often dreams that I would do that. Purchase and present him with the house that we would live in. I think it’s strange, but he says that he trusts me to find the perfect home for us, if I am happy with it then he thinks he would be. It is great that he has that level of trust, but the reality is that I would not do that unless I had to such as in the event of him suffering dementia. Obviously then I would have to but in normal circumstances he would be a huge part of the process for fear of niggling doubt that it wasn’t what he wanted too and I might get it wrong.
It is not the first time that we have dreamt of the same place. We have dreamed that we are doing the same thing, in the same place often with the same people in them whilst we are sleeping in different buildings. It seems odd that we can begin to tell the other one about a dream we had only to see a familiar smile spread across the other ones face. It is usually followed by the phrase well in my dream we were here (or there) and we did this or that.
I also have the ability to return to a dream after waking, when it’s a good one I can go back to it and find out what happens. Unfortunately if it’s a bad one I can also return to it quite ruining my sleep for the night if I can’t shake it off.
I often have recurring dreams of places and/circumstances. It feels like an ongoing story sometimes frustrating as I’d like to move on. Other times the familiarity or Dejavu is oddly reassuring. I wonder what the experts would make of it all.