I dreamt that I was talking to a bunch of new friends, all of whom had recently moved to Croatia. Most of them were American and British, but there were Canadians and Australians among them, as well. Nearly all of them had problems with their new apartments or houses, and they viewed me as an expert in the field. In addition, my large house was considered rather special. Anyway, I was very frank with them. “I’m not very happy here,” I said. “I am staying only because of my beloved.” Smiling awkwardly, they all looked at me without a word. “Actually, I hate it here!” I added after a brief pause. There were a few Croats among us, and it was clear they did not like what I had to say. They kept mum, though. Much of the rest of the talk had to do with builders, carpenters, heating-system repairmen, plumbers, and the like. Facing all sorts of problems, my new friends needed all the advice they could get. When I woke up, I realized that everything I had said was perfectly true about my life in Croatia, but it turned out that the house in my dream was in a place very like Cambridge, Massachusetts. To begin with, it was an airy wooden house on three wide floors. In excellent shape, it was located up a narrow street lined with somewhat smaller houses and tall trees. Almost everyone I was talking with lived on the same street, but some of them had apartments or houses closer to a wide and busy avenue at one of its ends, which looked just like Massachusetts Avenue in Cambridge. In short, there was not a trace of Croatia, let alone Motovun, in my dream.