I realize those vacations were mostly made of real times, no fiction : walking, seeing, talking, no reading, no movies, no tv. What does it have to do with my sensations? I guess it complements them, the need for fiction is just one of the main part of this weirdness, along with the remembrance of all the things we did and saw. There's definitely something personal in going to places that other tourists go to, doing a touristic trip in a personal way.
Cotton feeling, being on a cotton ball, with too many invisible bricks in the head. Bricks going away, but something from them must remain.