Tag: Arab

Blue GTi – Pantera – Pursuit – Places – Mdina – Dream – 11-09-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is this morning’s dream.

The dream starts with me driving a soft top dark blue {indigo?} Golf GTi type vehicle. It is right hand drive and has had a roll bar driver protection cage welded in. The sound of the engine is throaty and I can feel power under the throttle. The drive is similar to “whitey” my erstwhile Peugeot 208 GTi with 200 bhp. Though the handling is better.

I drive it into an urban French style garage. The type they have in the town centre and in 1960s films. I park and get out. I greet a man in light blue overalls. We know each other very well. He asks what he can do for me. I say that I have recently bought the car and could he look specifically at the breaks and the steering. The car is equipped with new top of the range tyres. I say that the steering felt a little slack on the way there. He looks at the car with interest.

He pops it onto an inspection ramp and hoists it into the air. He goes underneath and notes down the chassis and VIN {vehicle identification number}. Excitedly he ushers me to follow him into his office. He sits at desk and enters the VIN into the computer. He exclaims, “I knew it”. “You have bought a very rare special edition Pantera version.” The emphasis is long on the E and I know it to be Panthēra cat family and Jaguar. I feel corporally the Jaguar at his utterance of the word Pantera. I feel myself a Jaguar in the jungle. He says that these were a limited edition ultra-souped-up version. There were only a very few made and they are very high performance. He says that I have gotten a good deal. He adjusts the brakes and steering. He lowers the car down. He does not want payment. He has not seen one of these before in the flesh.

The scene changes. With the soft top down I am being pursued though a “medieval” town centre with very tight streets and corners. The roads have small squares, piazzas. On occasion I do handbrake turns to make the very tight corners. There are steps and gradients. Although I am being pursued by several vehicles I do not have direct sight of them. The feel is southern Europe, Mediterranean even. The pursuers are not police or official rather bad people who wish me ill, who want to hurt and even kill me. No matter how much they try I can out pace them in my special edition Pantera.

The scene changes and I am in a snowy pine forest with muddy “roads”. It feels Finland-Russia-Estonia. Again I am being pursued. I am now ultra glad of the roll bar as I am rally driving at breakneck speed. I am being pursued by people in slower four wheel drive vehicles. I know that I won’t be able to shake them until I reach the highway. After that they will be dust. The pursuit is relentless.

I wake up and can feel my thighs, lower back and sacroiliac plate. I know that I have been writhing around tensing my muscles during the dream pursuit. I can feel adrenaline. I take a while for my muscles to relax and stop hurting. I go to the bathroom and it is 5:15 AM.

Back now in the dream I am in Mdina, L-Imdina, in Malta. I know it is the Maltese Mdina. I am wandering the modern streets and know beyond question that I lived here and spent time here hundreds of years ago. I find my old residence down the street from a church. There remains a puzzle for me to solve. I am very comfortable with the Arab influence; it is a feeling which I recollect from my time among them as invited guest.

Next I am shown a map of Southern France specifically the protuberance which has Cannes and Marseille. I see both an ancient map and a more modern one. I have the knowing that “ago” I sailed from Marseille. I am now in my blue GTi top down driving West along a coast road heading for Marseille. To my right is a rocky bluff and to my left the azure-blue sea. I have wind in what would have been my hair. I am wearing Ray Bans and heading at speed along the open coast road. It is very early morning a little after dawn in high summer. The road is empty.

Next I am in a well-equipped kitchen in a large mansion like house. In front of me “mise en place” are various ingredients for cooking. One the other side of the cooking island is a young expensive posh woman whom I do not know. The kitchen belongs to her family. I sweat down some finely chopped shallots and a little garlic and more butter. I grind some pepper. I add some flour to make a roux, then some milk. Next I add a large glass of white wine which I can tell from the smell is a dessert wine. I reduce the sauce down. I am making a white wine reduction. I add some chopped fresh Tarragon. I know that I have also lived here near Marseille and that for me Marseille and Mdina are linked.

What I don’t yet know is how the Pantera or Jaguar fits in.

The dream ends.

University – Three Witches – Tuareg – Caravan paths Dream 04-10-2008

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The dream starts with me wandering around the hidden passages of an English university. It is very ornate and there are lots of rooms there. I am with people I do not know. We stumble upon an ornate room with a chaise-longue in it. We enter for a while.

Next, I notice an ascending staircase which I climb. I peak through the doorway and there are hags there, witches. I see three but there may be more. I hurry back downstairs. They do not appear to have seen me. They are in session of sorts. I tell the others and they want to see. I advise against it.

We are now outside and in the courtyard of the university. We take a seat on some garden furniture. I comment that I did not know we were allowed in this part of the garden. Someone say yes, this is where the professor came and spent the rest of his life.  He turned up and tuned into BBC 3 and stayed here. In the dream I doubt this.

Then there is a big celebration going on. One of the daughters of the three witches is getting married. She is marrying a warlock from a far distant land. He has gotten here by magical means. The celebration continues. I know that I am welcome among them. They are like kin.

The scene changes and I am on a trek in the mountains of Morocco. The scenery is black and dusty. The caravan is being led by a Tuareg dressed in black. We climb peak after peak then we come down to a more fertile and rocky landscape. We are crossing rivers. I am wearing my black leather shoes. I comment that they are not the best footwear. I shout back to the others to watch their step.

We are reaching a summit and there is a small chasm to jump across and a way that goes through a house. The house is decorated with tourist paraphernalia. I try to take the root through the house. There are two youngish women there. They have been waiting for me. “I am honoured, the honoured”, they say. Try as I may, I cannot get out of the house. Then I find a way.

As I walk around the village, I find some expats taking tea and gin on a veranda. I say that I need to jump the chasm but I am afraid. Will they help me? One of them apparently a vicar swells up and offers to help. He says that he can get me across but I must trust him completely. We approach the chasm. I jump it. It was nothing I had only thought it to be big. I thank him and say I didn’t need his help at all.

I am now a long way from the caravan. I set out to catch them up. The scene changes back to black and dusty.

The paths are now very busy with travellers going in both directions. I am overtaking many on my path. A blue turbaned Tuareg comes in the opposite direction. He recognises me and reaches out to touch me. “I have touched the venerable”, he says.

I continue on and now the path divides. The left hand path goes off further into the mountains. The path to the right follows a lowland route. I take the path to the left unsure as to which one my caravan has taken. As I progress along the path goes deeper into the mountains. The travellers start to thin out and soon I am walking the path alone. I must do this for a while.

I get scared and try to head down hill to cut across and back to the other path. I come upon a wall. Behind it are two Arabs one getting water and the other taking a piss. They have not noticed me. I wander on through a small village set in olive trees. There is a sense of glade to it. There is prosperity here. Down at the bottom of the glade I note a herd of kangaroos. I think this odd.

I leave the glade and continue down hill to reach the other path. We are back in the black scenery. I notice that I am still wearing my black leather shoes. The pace down hill is very fast and there is a sense that I must slow down so that I can see where I am going. I reach an opening and there is an apparent path at the edge of a dry river, a wadi.

Dream ends

M15 – Archives – Drones – Almeria Dream – 01-07-2008

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The dream starts in a loading bay of a newish building. There is a cab there that can be accessed by a door. A woman goes through a door and gets into the left hand side of the cab. I go through another door into a white sided room, I had thought that this would take me to the cab. Instead, I find myself in an old fashioned white lift which is a very tight fit for me. The lift is going down into a basement or sub-basement area. I know with certainty that this is the home of the security services MI5.

I exit the lift and am in the archives. It is secret. There are shelf upon shelf of books and records there. I come upon a man who is very familiar to me. He is startled to see me there. He is dressed as an “old school” English man. {Bletchley Park etc.}. He comments that he does not know why but he knows me. I say that I share the feeling. He shows me his hands. At the end of each finger is a tiny tool of some sort, like jeweller’s tools, they are all fanciful and wonderful. The implication is that he works meticulously. Although I recognise him, he is not someone that I currently know.

There is an explosion. We walk towards the window. Two space age helicopter crafts are coming towards us they are dropping bombs. He says that he will protect me but we must leave the building now.

We leave and are walking through a market square. There is debris of various craft stalls there. There are surveillance drones flying around. He points to two headlight like things lying on the floor. I pick them up, they will protect me.

I know that I must find Alveria or Almeria {it sounded like that}. One of the drones is now attacking me. I throw down one of the headlight things. It creates a massive puff of intense blue smoke. The scene changes.

There are now lots of large Arab style tents {Tuareg?} They are draped in cloths of a blue-indigo-blue hue.

I am wandering around the tents looking for something. J is somehow around. I am not concerned. I find a small white dog wrapped up in a blue cloth. I move on searching in a relaxed manner amongst the tents.

As I start to come to the entire dreamscape is filled with a deep royal blue, followed by indigo purple, then back to a blue-indigo-blue.

Dream ends.

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*During the Malaya insurgency my uncle, an officer in The Royal Corps of Signals, was recommended for his MBE by a General who was head of Military Intelligence {MI6?} and about whom little can be found. My uncle went onto to be a Colonel working out of Horse Guards Parade in London.

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