Category: Map Themed Dreams

My Disappearance – Navalny –  Big Cheese – Cairo – South Kensington Dream – 28-03-2026

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Here is this morning’s dream again with little or no obvious connection to real life here yesterday which we spent wallpapering.

The dream opens in England in and around London. Some kind of missive has gone out, been circulated, concerning my whereabouts. I have gone missing, disappeared and cannot be contacted. Nobody seems to know where I am nor how to get in touch. Tim, Tom and Susan are involved in the search all of whom are “important”. Tim and Sue have made inquiries concerning me but are unsatisfied with the answers. “He just disappeared” does not explain. Other people from the academic clan are involved in the investigation and some of them were known to me. Those involved are mostly of a similar age to me, like Paula, my peer group. Though there are others. The inquiry is largely London based. Although not huge there are questions to be answered that just won’t go away. There is a pendant question of “where did Alan disappear to and why?” There is very mild press and media interest brewing. They, the inquirers, don’t like loose ends. There is a time pressure to solve.

The scene changes and I am in a brightly lit wood / forest with Alexeï Navalny. It is a crisp winter morning and the cold makes dragon’s breath of our breathing. We are sat at a small very basic table on two old-school school chairs. On the table is an open bottle of vodka and two small glass tumblers each of which is partially filled. There is a small plate of gherkins and a large cheese in a round wood circular box like a Camembert. Navalny lifts the lid off the box and places the wax paper wrapped cheese onto a wooden cutting board. He gets a hunting knife out of an ankle scabbard and proceeds to cut the cheese into wedges. He pauses and we take a sip of our vodkas. He is discussing how cheeses can cause problems for other people. All his problems have come from upsetting big cheeses. When you think about it, it is nearly always people who are cheeses that cause problems for others. The reason we are in the wilderness, in exile, is cheese. Navalny reaches down into his knapsack and pulls out a rough-hewn rye bread. He says that he likes vodka, cheese and bread.

The scene changes and I pull up in my car into a very smart posh area of Cairo. The cars in the car park are all expensive and I am driving a black one. I get out and know that this is the posh, upmarket financial centre of Cairo. As yet it is not busy. I go into an upmarket “private” bank usually for high net worth individuals. It is well swish. I go to reception and am ushered off into a side room where I have a meeting with an expensively dressed woman who is wearing a hijab of fine expensive material. She is very classy. She has attached between her subtle noise piercing and ear a fine golden chain. She speaks very good accent free English. She wants to know why I want to open a bank account with them in Cairo. I say that my other bank and utilities have given my information out to others without asking my permission. They have done so at the request of others without checking with me first. This includes my bank in Paris. I am looking for a more personal and reliable service, based on trust. We shift into speaking French. She guides me though the application form which she fills in with a beautiful fountain pen. She says that the bank is very pleased to have me as a customer and that I will always be welcome in Cairo. Outside in the main marble hall of the bank customers are coming in.

The scene changes and I am in a kitchen of a British house. It is my parents’ house only it looks nothing like . The place is a bit of a mess, a shit tip. On the counter top is a Gaggia style coffee espresso machine. I make myself a coffee and one for the wife. She is with me but  I cannot see her. We drink the coffee.

The scene now changes to South Kensington. In a kind of arcade is a coffee shop come café. It is very urban, chic and trendy. Sat around the table are those ~ a decade younger than me. They are gossiping about me. There are Jason Laura and Camilla. They too have been wondering about my disappearance. There has been a lot of gossip and tittle tattle. It is a hot topic.

I walk in with the wife and sit down at the far end of a long table from them They looked surprised. I explain that they have been making a huge to-do about not a lot. I have not disappeared they have just not been aware of where I have been. For instance, we have not long come from South Wales where we have been drinking coffee at my parents’ house. I say that they have turned the whole thing into a massive spy-whodunnit-drama. They are embarrassed. It is well out of proportion.

The dream ends.

Catamaran – Laugharne – Brown Dog – Kangaroo – Closed Door Dream 20-03-2026

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Here is last night’s dream it seems to point at a change in the direction of the wind.

The dream opens abord a small catamaran sailing vessel equipped with an outboard motor. The main hull would accommodate maybe four people sleeping. It is well looked after, all ship shape and Bristol fashion. The tarpaulins out to the rider sub-hulls are deep blue and stretched taught. We are moving under motor into a small marina where there are leisure craft of varying size and expense. It is a bright sunny day  and we are pulling in under the guidance of one of the port team who has come abord to pilot. She is dressed in smart “sailing” fashion and has long chestnut brown hair which is shiny.  She is young. As we approach the pontoon I jump off and tie off. The pilot leaves us and waves. The wife disembarks. We are working our way along the South Wales coast to Carmarthen and Laugharne. We have now been cleared to use the port by the harbour captain. We make our way along the pontoons towards the town. We are met by a chocolate brown athletic labrador retriever, thinner than your normal labrador and very enthusiastic. I know she is called Holly.

The scene changes and we are again entering the same port. The weather is less sunny. As we disembark and go towards town we see Holly waiting for us. She has been in the water and is dripping wet. Something has happened to Holly she does not look quite so well and vibrant. She is nevertheless enthusiastic in her greeting. I must get something out of the water. I throw in a fishing hand line and pull out a metre long thin eel like fish. It is very unusual like a Chinese dragon with long whiskers and a beard. It is not a dragon; it is a fish. I hold it up in my right hand and it curls itself around my arm. It is like a loosely coiled spring. Crossing between pontoons I can see a small “red” kangaroo. It is hopping on one leg the left one and holding the other one over its shoulder with its arms. I can see multiple surgery stiches along the inside length of the leg and up into the groin. The kangaroo seems completely unbothered by carrying its leg. We proceed into town. We know that this port is only a stepping stone as we are heading towards Carmarthen and Laugharne, maybe even further into Pembrokeshire.

The scene changes and we are in a car approaching a city centre car park. As we get nearer the way is partially blocked by a very large old style Range Rover. It won’t let us into the the lane for the main car park entrance. I note a smaller lane for the car park ground floor. I squeeze the right hand drive UK car past the Range Rover. When we approach the barrier I get out and press a red “stop-like” button which protrudes. An attendant comes out and gives me a key on the end of a yellow stretchy coiled lanyard. The lanyard has the consistency of electric cable but is stretchy and spring-like. The lanyard is about 50 cm long. I go to the control panel for then barrier and open it with the key. I put the key in my pocket. The barrier rises and we enter the car park. The barrier closes behind us. The Range Rover driver watches mildly pissed off.

We get out of the car and try to leave the car park via the ground floor Ladies toilets. Outside the cubicles there are two men, they are security services types. I go to try the door where I know the door to be. The door is locked shut and has been wall-papered over. I cannot find the handle nor the lock. I know that the door is there behind the wall paper which the security men have covered it with. They find it very funny that I cannot open the door. I look to the side of the door to the normal toilet entrance door which appears also to be locked. I see the vague outline of a door in the wall and press upon it with my fingers and the secret door swings open directly into a main corridor of a swish shopping mall. We go through the door and it closes behind us.

In the dream I think that closed doors always simplify things.

The dream ends…

South Korea – Quantum Perimeter – Dream 13-03-2026

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Here is this morning’s dream the subject matter of which is out of the blue.

The dream opens on a bright sunny morning in a campus like estate with mid-rise modern buildings. It is “Singapore” clean and tidy. Many young people are milling around. They are smartly dressed and of mostly of East Asian appearance. The place is alive and buzzing. There is a sense of hurry and of purpose. From the signage and the writing thereupon I can tell that we are in South Korea at a hybrid university – business – technology campus of which Samsung is a major part. The logo is present but not dominant. The young people are well dressed and there is a sense of going to work. I have been invited there.

I notice that there is a lack of coffee shops and other outlets at ground level in the architect designed garden spaces. In the distance I can see a small kiosk come shop attached to the corner of one of the low rise buildings. I make my way there. For some reason I want to buy some cigarettes {I have not smoked in quite a while}. Looking through the window I cannot at first see any Marlboro Gold. I go inside the shop and ask if they have any Marlboro Gold. The man serving is an Asian man of a similar age to me. He is balding and has slightly unruly hair. He says in accent less {to me} English that he thinks he has some somewhere. I check my wallet and only have a limited amount of local currency. He finds some Marlboro Gold and brings them over to the counter. He gets the card payment machine and I make a payment using my dark blue French bank card. He then hands me the change, which is in the form of five gold coins, two of these are about four centimetres in diameter and three of these are about six centimetres. They fall on the counter in the form of the Olympic rings logo. The hue of the golden coins is slightly reddish like Welsh gold. This he says is the change and he hands me a packet of Marlboro Gold which contains fifty cigarettes. He says that these are all he has left, packets of fifty, and that they are especially for me. The coins morph into chocolate biscuits enclosed in a golden foil wrapper. I am able to eat the gold / golden covered biscuits if I want. I note again that there are five of them. I take out a velvet old school drawstring pouch-purse and pop the coins in. I pull the drawstring to and slip the bag in my pocket. I pick up the cigarettes and leave. There is a tremendous sense of confraternity with the man in the shop. We have known each other and do recognise each other. We bid farewell.

I am now upstairs at some trade delegation put on by the Korean government – university – incubator committee. It is top-notch with servers in traditional Korean costume. The buffet to one side is gourmet and presented with a marked attention to detail. There are a lot of “suits” there and the organisers are encouraging networking and deal making. I start having a conversation with a local big cheese and his wife. I am commenting that I find the spoken Korean language quite easy on the ear. It has a nice sound to it. In the dream I realise that I am actually talking Korean which the woman in particular finds very funny. She hides her mouth with her hand to chuckle. We return to English speaking. She wants to know if my wife is OK with the idea of moving to South Korea. I say that we have not discussed it yet but that the Korean woman can meet with her if she would like. There is a sense that they work to ensure the whole family is on board.

The scene changes and I am walking along a corridor in a low rise research institute. It has ceiling to floor glass windows and looks out onto the campus. The corridor leads to a  café come hang-out space. I am walking and talking with a man in a white coat who is some kind of prof / scientist. We are in the “Quantum Perimeter Institute” which is a specially funded new initiative here in South Korea. I know that in the basement there are a number of very high specification laser laboratories. To the side of the building is a purpose built refrigeration / cryogenic plant. It is high specification and can handle huge loads. We are talking about a theoretician, a recently recruited quantum specialist. The professor is suggesting that I work with him. I can add the experimental know how to his ideas.

In the dream I know that I am at the Quantum Perimeter Institute because of my left field and unorthodox thinking about some of the esoteric implications adjunct to quantum science.

We continue to walk down the corridor towards the smell of coffee.

The dream ends.

Retreat Centre – Misogi – Dream 06-03-2026

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Here is this morning’s dream had during the best night’s sleep for a long while.

The dream opens with me arriving outside a low slung two storey building at a bend in a river which is at the end of a long non tarmac drive.  The building abuts a farm which leads off up the hill. The scenery is lush green and I know this to be North Wales not far from Llangollen. I put down my two light suitcases and open the door to go in. Somehow the property is mine.

The idea is to run it as a retreat centre. I go through to check out the catering kitchens. They are in order. Various people arrive and we meet in an upstairs room which overlooks the stair way. It is a kind of hang-out space. People are all a bit hyped and coming up with ideas as to how to run the centre, use the space. They are talking a lot. I say that if they want to they can run it but without me. If I am to do it, it will be done my way and my way alone. L is there and her husband is in their bedroom. The wife is there and she is unpacking in ours. I leave the stairwell and go outside.

At the corner of the building where there is a small brook crossing the property largely under the cover of some big slates there is a bamboo half barrel / bucket. It has a wrought iron band painted in an enamel black paint. I have set up the water barrel so that it is continually refreshed from the mountain stream. Attached to the wall is a bamboo ladle, with a long bamboo handle. It is there for people to practise misogi or purification. The water which they pour over themselves will drain though the slates and into the brook. There is a small bamboo slatted bench for people to sit upon. It is not me who needs purification.

I go back into the building and people gather in the kitchen. I explain that the farmer has a number of cabins for accommodation on his farm. Guests at the retreat centre can stay there. Again people try to “brainstorm” ideas as to how the retreat centre will work and its curriculum. Because L is there I know it will have a strong dreaming element. She says that I must not be too rigid. I agree but say that there must also be strict discipline and it will include some martial arts style rigour. People are too soft. The “debate” continues and I remind them that I am not overly interested in what they “think” it should be. They may have ideas which differ. People are trying to tell me what to do. I am unimpressed.

The dream ends.

Aussie Photos – Ndola Zambia Job Interview Dream 23-02-2026

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Here is this morning’s dream. It is very out-of-the-blue and in terms of compare and contrast, differs markedly.

The dream opens with me wearing a photographer’s utility vest sleeveless jacket in khaki. It has multiple pockets and around my neck is a posh camera with a very large lighter coloured telephoto lens. It is pretty heavy. I am to review thousands of photos of Australia and specifically of wetlands in Queensland and Northern Territory. After I have done this I have an assignment in the Gulf of Carpentaria. The assignment is for photographing mangroves. It will be way outback and bush.

Next I am at an unspecified airport with the wife. I have an upcoming job interview at Ndola university in the Copperbelt of Zambia. I have an open old style return air ticket replete with carbon paper. I am asking the wife if she wants to come along. We need to figure out if the cost is worth it given that I may not get the job. We decide that it will be worth the hundreds of pounds because she can then input into the decision about taking the job and relocating to Zambia. I have been before she not. So we buy her an open ticket too.

Because it is all a bit rushed and last minute she is not sitting with me on the plane. L, a southerly dreamer, is somehow “around” on the plane with us. I need to have my landing documentation filled out so I go to the cockpit to speak with the captain. He is very happy to fill out my form for me. It is getting time for take-off so I leave him to do his pre-flight checks and return to my seat.

Because it is all rushed I have not made a hotel reservation in Ndola nor have I booked a hire car. I wonder what kind of “sheds” they have for hire and what state the main highway North is in. I remember it was not all that great when I was last there over forty years ago. It could prove to be a long drive.

The plane takes off and what seems like a short while later we are beginning our descent into Lusaka. I recognise it. I see a church and a river. {It is not like actual Lusaka.} We are going to land on the highway and will have to walk into the terminal building. The plane taxies. We  disembark and I note the particular pungent fecund smell of Africa.  As we enter the terminal building there is a staircase going down with a lush brown carpet on. I slide down the carpet on my bum playfully. We are in Africa so I know it will be futile to try to organise and schedule things. It will only result in frustration when that does not work. I must relax and flow, glide, with the chaos.

We go though passport control and my passport has loads of stamps in it. I have travelled widely. {In reality it is pristine new.} We get to immigration and are being cleared by a very smartly dressed black woman. She has an ornate hair-do and long decorative fingernails. She speaks excellent English with a slight Zambian accent. I am happy to be here with some familiar things such as the accent. She objects to my paperwork which the captain has done. There is no exit date. She suggests that we make one up and put it on the form. I show her the invitation to interview at Ndola university. She says to take my/our time to explore. We know we have money in the bank and that given the exchange rate we can wing-it. We make up a date and she writes it in red biro on our immigration clearance forms. Neither of us are happy with this ad-lib way of doing things. Out of the corner of my eye I see an Avis / Hertz car rental booth. The woman says that the guy there has family in all the hotels and will fix us up with a reservation in Ndola. In my mind I think that I have not yet  done full preparation for the interview, which is due tomorrow afternoon, nor have I had a confirmation email. The woman sensing this suggests that the interview time is mobile and that they will want to do hospitality things which could be very extensive. They like to welcome people to Zambia. I explain I lived here as a child. She says that the welcome home will therefore be very important. They always like to welcome people back the most. She intimates that in a sense I already have the job lined up.

The wife and I look at each other realising we are now in Africa time and African ways. I know this dream is South of the equator.

The dream ends.

Atlantean Artefacts – Karate -Scorpion Sting – Quantisation – Dream Snippets 15-02-2026

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Here are last night’s dreams / snippets. I’ll hazard a guess that the juxtaposition is unique to me.

The dream opens is a large ornate voluminous room of a museum. The place is gilded and golden shiny in hue. It is a bit chavvy. The place is however filled with a luminous light golden radiance which not everyone can see. I understand the rooms to be filled with artefacts from the recently uncovered Atlantis. The interpretations of the archaeologists are all wrong because they never lived there. I am wandering around with a man who feels like a much younger version of Théun and with Adrian. They are showing me around. They are trying to impress me. We are having fun and marvelling.  We have the run of the place tonight. Amongst the collection are a number of geodes of startling beauty, some meteorites and some special meteorite-geodes. I know these were used to facilitate communication across distances. There are other things which are unknown to modern day but which seem familiar to me. The whole orientation of that society cannot be understood in terms of 21st century reasoning. I am aware that there are other Atlantean artefacts held in secret elsewhere in the world. There is a good chance that I can remember what their purpose and use was.  

The scene now changes to a modern office environment. Terry is there. He is trying to get me to do his bidding. I think that his ideas are foolish particularly with respect to Japan. He is getting increasingly agitated with me. He says, “I will show you”. He proceeds to attack me with a very rigid straight line / right angles form of power Karate. It is very easy to block, avoid and get out of the way. By my using a more fluid circular approach he is unable to land any punches or kicks in any meaningful way. This only increases his frustration and anger at me. He is positively seething. I think him a rigid arse, a dinosaur stuck in his mind and narrative.

The scene changes and I am out in the bright sunlit desert with people who are younger than me. They are lanky men, a few of them, all taller than me. Suddenly one of them with brown wavy hair and a slight  American accent yelps out in pain. He feels familiar to me. I can see he has a large scorpion attached to the arch of his right bare foot via the embedded sting. He is screaming in pain and thrashing about in panic. I go over to him and ask him to calm down. I sit him on a rock. Taking the large hand sized scorpion in my hand I try to pull the sting out of the tender arch of his foot. It will not budge. I conclude that the sting must have a fish hook like barb under the skin. It would ruin his foot to force it. I gesture to one of the others to get a plastic Tupperware like container. I pinch the tail of the sting between the thumb and forefingers of both hands holding the part near the sole unmoving I twist the scorpion so that the tail fractures and snaps. I hold in my hand the large scorpion and can see the residual sting head in the foot. I put the scorpion in the Tupperware and help the younger man hobble toward the 4X4 utility half truck vehicle. We are going to drive to the town to see the doctor replete with the scorpion for species identification purposes. The scorpion does not seem to be phased and is sitting calmly in the Tupperware. The younger man has calmed down as we sit him in the back of the ute.

The scene changes to a seminar room in a think tank in London. It is American tech. IT  funded and we are kicking ideas around. There are a lot of bright younger men and a few similar women. The meeting is being chaired by a young Bill Gates look alike figure with appropriate “Marks and Spencer” style jumper.

We are taking about the quantisation of optical transitions in molecules. I explain to him that I have never seen quantisation as being so rigid and step like, as it is deemed. I explain that I have seen these transitions as being a form of hyper resonance. These levels, these states are very favoured, highly resonant. But you can drive a resonance when slightly off the energy if the applied field is large enough or the theoretical linewidth bell shaped. People think only of rigid quantisation whereas a new formulation might be had with a fuzzy resonance type of approach. “Bill” says that he knows people who use ultrafast lasers to map out both ground and excited state potentials and that they have found a discomfort with the rigid quantisation approach too. He says that is what happens when you do inordinately difficult laser experiments. He is looking at a large A4 black and white map printout. He is trying to figure out where the funding has gone for this think tank and tries to locate it on the map. I suggest that he might look at Ireland. He says no. I look at the map again and can see Regent’s park and the beautiful posh stone terraces to the East of the park. I say that the map must be of central London.

The dream ends….

Land Title – Medical Exam – Fox Island – Bern Dream 19-11-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream.

The dream opens with me sat in an office, part real estate part solicitor. I am sat the other side of the desk to the person whose office it is. He is checking with me if I made inquiries into land titles. He has a mild Aussie accent. I say that yes I made an online inquiry into land to which my father once held title at the Queensland registry office a while back. He says that they are sorry that the search took so long but they are following up on two properties one in the Cairns area and one in Brisbane. He asks to see some identification documents which I show him. He says that he will get back to me soon. He thinks that the Cairns property might still belong to our family.

The scene changes and I am in an ultra modern hospital facility sat in a technical chair. I am with a young male doctor and a young female doctor. They are both wearing lab coats. Together with them is a technician. We are speaking in a mixture of French and English moving between according to our availability of vocabulary. We are in France. They are testing the function of my right lung only. I am being asked to exhale only from that lung and to cough only from that lung. I do this and they are very surprised at the result the lung is functioning way better than they thought. I am coughing up a clear white sputum which they suck with vacuum into a jar. I explain that I have not been coughing much because of the opium painkiller I am taking. They say it is time to take a break for lunch and that they will continue with the left lung later. In the meantime they ask if I will do an ecological survey of the island upon which the hospital finds itself. The hospital is on a hillock reached by a causeway well into a lake. It is a bit like a castle in construction.

I step out of the hospital and into the wooded hillock. They are particularly interested in the fox population. Because I am so quiet I do not disturb the foxes. I come upon one after the other who have demarcated their terrain, their patch, with droppings. I know that they have done this to prevent conflict. I count foxes noting their state of health and big fluffy tails. They are all well. I go down the hillside towards the water and am joined by the ninth fox who trots along by me. He is escorting me off the island and into the water. As I near the water we are charged by a manky tatty old billy goat. I grab him by the horns and lead him into the lake. He continues to try to butt me. But I swim out with the goat by his horns until he is out of his depth. The fox watches on. The goats swims back to land. I swim around the island to where the causeway joins the hospital and there is a small quay and entrance door into the hospital. I am cold from the water and knock the door. A health assistant helps me up and in. She offers me a towel. I come into the building and pick up a brown chocolatey drink from the vending machine. She directs me back to the clinic.

I arrive back and sit in the chair where I am joined by the doctors. They try my drink and like it. I explain that I got it from the vending machine at lake level. I comment that the fox population looks well and healthy. They are now going to start on my left lung. They want to know where to forward the results to. I say that I will be in Switzerland and we can find a Francophone hospital for them to forward my results to. I suggest Fribourg because that is just over the language frontier. There is a CHU (centre hospitalier universitaire) there. I ask them to put Bern into Google maps so that we can look for other French speaking hospitals. I see the large CHU at Bern on the map and say that they will speak French English and German there so there is probably no need to find a specifically French hospital. The young female doctor concurs. She is happy to send her write up to Bern which I can see from the map is quite close to where I live in the city. She says that she had a friend in Geneva and visited Bern a number of times.

The dream ends and I think, “well, the medical theme is not surprising given what is scheduled.”

Nord Holland – Fürstenberg – Clones – Snatch Team – Dream – 12-11-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream. Like many others it comes out of the blue.

The dream opens with me looking at a map of Noord-Holland, with a bit of Friesland and Zwolle. In the dream I hear Nord Holland but the map has the entire area including the islands of to the north and the large inlet. It is a warm sunny day in a small village or town. I am following discreet tidy signs to the “Bahnhof” or train station. I don’t know why but the word looks out of context for the Dutch environment. I follow the signs into a very small quaint train station and board a tiny local train. I need to get to Fuhrstenberg or Fürstenberg. The train will take me into a much large nodal communication hub.

I am sat on a bench in the train and at the next large stop am joined by Anita and two Japanese men in black salary man suits. They have been to an academic conference nearby. There is a lot of technology and high tech industry in the area. She is pleased to see me and I her. We talk briefly about the conference she has been to and that I am travelling to Fürstenberg. I do not know the way yet but am sure that I can figure it out at the major Haupt-Bahnhof. I alight at the big station and they continue on to the airport.

When I arrive I get off at the train station concours. It is European. It is heaving with commuters at rush hour. I look at various schematic train line maps and am none the wiser. There is an information centre with computer terminals. The signage is in roman script  and Japanese. I stand at a computer terminal next to a Japanese man and show him how to change the language options. I enter Furstenberg in the search engine and it shows a simple two stage train journey to get there. I will have to make one change and wait there a little then I will get to my destination. It will be a few hours.

I go up to the ticket barriers and note just how very crowded they are. I have purchased the on-going tickets for my journey. I look up to the station clock and can see from the hands that I have some time to wait before departure. I decide to go into a cafeteria. I sit at an old-school sixties US diner table with my coffee and a newspaper. It has bum-sticker plastic chairs and a red Formica top. There is a metallic edge protector all around. I am joined by a man in a light blue sixties style “Mormon” suit with thin lapels. He is wearing winkle picker shoes. He also has a newspaper. We look up and catch each other’s gaze. He is like a young George Peppard with very blue piercing eyes. The eyes are startling. He has immaculate blonde hair. On his lapel I can see a pin badge with what looks like a Renault diamond motif and a vertical bar going through the diamond. {Post hoc query masonic?} It is at most one centimetre in size. Having caught eyes we return to our newspapers.

He then speaks. He reaches over and pins a similar badge to my lapel. He says that it is a tracker jammer and that it should buy us a little time. He gestures down to the watch on my right wrist. It is a metallic watch with a metallic strap, the type that I would never buy, very Del-boy. He asks where I got this. I say that it was a gift. He says that they are using it to track me. Now the signal has stopped they will arrive in person. I note an Indian looking woman on a nearby table is working with “George”.

A team of people come in the cafeteria door and head towards us. Among the team are two young men with albino like colouration who are twins. I think them to be clones. There is another one identical in the team. They are a snatch team. The twins come to try to grab hold of me. I grab the head of each in my arms in a headlock. I have one clone under each arm. I lift them up, raising my elbows so that I am holding them by their heads. I have their full weight in the crook  of my arms. I can feel their necks snap. “George” lets off a flash-bang distraction grenade and the Indian woman heads towards a fire door hotly pursued by the other clone. She manages to open the door and is followed through by the clone who she fights off. She jumps onto the back of a hood down old-style Mercedes convertible and is joined by the clone. They wrestle there as the car speeds off.

There is mayhem in the cafeteria. I stand in the open fire door and watch as there is a kerfuffle involving “George” and the snatch team. I take the wristwatch off and throw it into a bin.  

As I come to I think “Oh shit not yet another spy dream. That is what you get for watching the first episode of Killing Eve!”.

The dream ends.

Number 32 – Real Life – Dream 09-11-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is this morning’s dream. It pertains, perhaps, to a situation we have been mulling over in “real” life. We have been looking into a “where” for the needed downsize of accommodation. In a sense we have been waiting for some guidance from dreams.

The dream opens in a corridor of very large building filled with flats, apartments. We are on a mid to upper floor with grey hard wearing carpet. In front of us is a white painted panelled wooden door with a round knob handle at waist height. It is modern. On it are the numbers 3 and 2, 32. It is flat 32. I approach the door and push it gently. It opens and we go inside. The flat is modern and painted mostly white. There is a mirror and small table in the hall, together with a coat stand. We explore and see a good sized lounge, a kitchen, a dining room with small balcony which looks out over the red-brick exterior of the building and grounds. The building is like Royal Holloway founder’s building only with more floors.

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As we are exploring we hear a key in the lock and in walk a younger couple. The woman is tall, similar to Amy from “The Big Bang Theory” her partner is smaller and skinny like a cyclist. She is in charge. They are unsurprised to see us as the apartment is having viewings in order to sell it. They ask us what we think. We say that it is nice but need to understand the building better.

The woman says that they are thinking of moving near Cardiff for her job but that accommodation in Cardiff itself is a bit pricey. I explain that we have explored there to. The basic story is that if you go north of the M4 the price drops and if you go up into valleys it gets lower reflecting both the travel time and the neighbourhood. I say that I personally am quite keen on The Vale of Glamorgan. She says thank you for the pointers. They say that they don’t fit in here because of their age.They are too young. We leave the flat and go into the corridor.

In the dream I note that the number is 32 and know this to be a dark jewel one that I am unfamiliar with to the extent that I cannot recall what it is. I resolve to look it up on waking. I wonder in the dream {and now writing} why the dark jewel 32 {disharmony} is highlighted.

We exit the building and stand back in the grounds. It looks imposing like the Celtic Manor resort near Newport, though internally more complex as above.

We walk up towards the main entrance which is a staircase over a moat like structure and enter the main atrium. It is high ceilinged and has reddish pub carpet and wood panelling. In the back we can see a canteen come restaurant operating. We can smell food. It has a flavour of school dinners / Oxford college catering. There are “cloches” over some of the plates. We go up to inspect the menu / price list. The food is all “English” and I note bland. It is reasonably priced.

We explore a little further and come upon another large space in which there is a meeting to one side. The wife sits down to listen in. It is a “University of the Third Age” type presentation. The audience is all our age or older. They are more expensively dressed than us and largely English.

I go to sit in a bar like area with sofas and tables. There are several “posh old bird” women there with drinks and dogs. The smell of intense perfume pervades. A female lurcher dog comes to explore me and sits with her paws on my foot and her head just above my lap. She is wanting attention. She has decided on me. She sits immobile.

To one side there is a “hunting – country” woman with a fluffy Lassie long haired collie. She comments that I have made a friend. She is being flirty with me. She gets up and her friend who owns the lurcher joins her. They head off to the lifts. It takes some coercion with dog treats to get the lurcher to leave me.

Exploring further we come upon a residents action group where a bunch of people, residents of the building, are up in arms about something. We see that the social life of the building is very active and lively. There are piss ups and dances.

We go to the activities notice board and see that you can get self-drive boats to go down the river to the weir and back. Ther are fishing rights in the river which flows under the moat. It is all a bit “Thursday Murder Club”.

The flat was nice enough.

The dream ends and I remain largely puzzled as why 32 should make an appearance. On writing I do not personally feel any sense of disharmony with our life and our surroundings.

Retired General – Subjective – Boris Johnson Dream 24-10-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

This dream had between 06:20 and 08:45 this morning. This out of the blue and then again perhaps not.

The dream opens in some kind of exhibition or fayre. It has a new age vibe to it and is in a large hall with high ceilings. It has an orangery feel, light and spacious. It feels close to Westminster central London, Thames. I have a small exhibit table upon which I am laying out some information. One of the posters has a background colour and design which exactly matches the table. The words therefore appear written on the table.

Along the mezzanine gallery, where I am, I spot a man a little older than me. He is wearing a windowpane light brown lined posh country hunting shirt and dark brown corduroy trousers. He is slightly balding and has allowed his hair to grow slightly. He has a mild ruddy complexion and looks completely out of place. On his table he has some maps. I know that he is military or ex-military. I go over to inquire as to why he is at this event.

As I approach it is clear that he has some prior knowledge about me, perhaps has been briefed. I ask him what he is interested in. He says subjective contact. I have a knowing that he is/was a general {perhaps major-general}.  I say that I have had subjective contact and that I am perhaps less flaky than others who might make such a claim. He imagines that I am an accidental receiver. He does not understand. He asks how I got into these things. I explain that Peter had a hand. He says without prompting that he knows Peter from the commandos and that Peter had a hand in his interest too. I ask him if he is fully retired. He says that generals never fully retire and that they continue to help out where they can. I say that he has deniability because he is no longer directly affiliated. He nods. I add that at any time he could be denied and any claimed association disproved. He is not official. He nods. I suggest that he has been sent here specifically to talk with me. He neither nods nor does not. There is a kind of acknowledgment. He is on a loose one from military intelligence (MI).

The scene changes and I am now sat in the audience of a talk at the event with Boris Johnson. We are enjoying each other’s company and he is being his public jocular buffoonery self. As suspected he is fun to talk with. But I can feel a hard driven purposeful edge behind the guise of his clowning. He too can talk freely because he is no longer implicitly associated with government. I tease him that his father paid for his accent and that now he is bored he could always become an evangelical preacher something his has the gift for. He then mimics Ian Paisley in a manner that has us both and Carrie in stitches. He has a gift for comedy.

The whole thing is frightfully, frightfully English.

On waking I think that it is odd that MI is again in my dreams. I am not surprised that there might be an interest.

The dream ends.