I dreamt that I came upon a group of middle-aged tourists in what looked like a large park. There were tall pine trees all around. They formed a canopy above the park. The tourists were slowly descending some ancient stone stairs. The stones were large and rather irregular in shape. Some were out of line, too. Standing on one of the top stairs there was a plump woman in her fifties. She wore thick glasses. Her carefully combed blonde hair suggested she just came out of hairdressers. She was the guide, and she spoke in a loud voice with an unmistakable American accent: “Here we have yet another Roman amphitheater, of which we have seen so many the last few days…” This is all I heard her say. Quite annoyed, I hurried past the group. “Yet another Roman amphitheater,” I mumbled just before I woke up, “my ass.”