Dreamt I was in Argentina. We were in the Cordoba area. I asked my mother why we weren't going to Buenos Aires. She invoked some comparative point which seemed to say "families who want to waste their money go to Buenos Aires", and that we were not one of those families. The place actually reminded me of Broadstairs in Kent, except there was no sea or any other memories associated with that place - it was the buildings, narrow streets and contours which made it seem like Broadstairs. We were with my cousin Melanie. I walked outside alone and saw a German café. I wanted to go inside, but the food didn't look very nice and everyone seemed to be speaking German. Also I noticed I was wearing a blue jumper, which somehow I imagined to be a barrier to entry. So I just strutted around outside looking at them, and they, occasionally, at me. Some people came to pick us up. They were Argentinians but we spoke to them in English. They were driving us to the border. At one point the driver accelerated to such a speed that we took off like an airplane. We were all a little concerned though as it was clear from our trajectory that we were not going to stair airborne forever, and that the longer our leap, the further we'd have to fall. We landed safely. He said the trick to his driving technique was not only to go fast, but to change the country around him as he advances. He was keen to emphasise that this did not merely mean the roads or the landscape, but also its cultural assumptions, as if changing both together made the journey progress that much smoother.
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