I’m on a sightseeing trip with my family, on our way to Spain. I’m so excited to get there I can hardly contain my joy.

We approach Madrid by train, yet at the same time we are moving alongside the railroad tracks, flying. I point out to my family, “See how we are going up at such a steep incline?”

I see the tracks, with pieces of lumber protruding. It resembles a makeshift rollercoaster.

When we enter Madrid, we visit an ancient church. As we climb the stone stairs, I realize I’ve been here in my dreams on previous trips.