cooking – Dreamyoga

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.

The first part of the dream was had between 6 and 6:31 AM this morning. I then went back into the dream.

The dream opens with me driving down a bitumen private country road on an estate towards a bridge over a fair sized river, tens of metres across. There has been recent flooding. I drive onto the bridge and see that the far side of it has been eroded. Nevertheless, I can drive off the bridge and continue on. I am less sure about the return journey. I pull up on to a large, gravelled parking area in front of a large house / mansion. It is quintessentially English and similar to that of one of my prior tutees. The sense is that I have come here on a similar purpose of teaching.

I knock and enter and am welcomed by a man of similar age to me dressed in tweeds. He ushers me in and inquires about the journey. I mention the bridge. He says that the lads are working on a lash up. He shows me into a lounge like area and we are joined by his wife a younger woman with dark hair. It is obvious that they are both upper class, she in particular. Their accents are clipped.

We make our way out. At the side of hallway there is a white computer screen upon which are cartoons portraying the weather of the day in some detail. I comment that it is a nice simple touch. They look at each other in a light hearted conspiratorial manner.

We go to inspect the bridge. I can see that it will be difficult to get my car back on the bridge. In the dream I know that it will be easy for me to pick it up by hand and place it onto the bridge, even though it is a normal sized normal car.

The lads are sailing a barge downstream towards the bridge. It has a military style pontoon bridge on it. They anchor and secure the pontoon in place. I get onto the pontoon with them and lift a car which is already on the pontoon off onto dry land. I can and do drive my car over the pontoon and park up the other side.

I am now sat at table with the woman and her two sons We are in the orangery and the youngest son is serving us a curry from a deep sided old style metal mass catering serving tray. It has handles which are lose and held to the tray with rivets. The meal is good. He asks if I need some more spices to thicken the sauce. He offers me a small plate upon which are turmeric, cumin and garam masala. I say that the curry is just fine as it is, lovely. The mother is delighted. She is wearing blue jeans and an expensive pink jumper. I say that I like things simple. They all look at each other. I say, “you lot as a family have got something weird going on about simple.” They all smile.

The older brother is doing very well in school but the younger one is seen as a bit odd. He has some special needs. I say to them that when I was a little older than the younger lad, I used to do a lot of the cooking for the family. The younger teenager says that he does too. There is a peculiar instant sense of bonding between us.

I wake up and go to the loo. The wife says that I have been kicking about.

I try to return to the dream.

I am back at table in the orangery. The woman is sat where she was previously but her jeans are unzipped to reveal light pastel blue underwear. I am not sure what this means. What has transpired, what she wants. It then dawns on me that she is indicating that both the boys came out of her.

The younger boy then takes me by the hand and leads me out of the orangery and into a walled garden. The walls are made of very red bricks and the garden is where chef grows his herbs and vegetables. The younger lad is a friend of the chef.

He takes me behind a small green house and eases a stone out of the wall. It is like a cold war dead drop. In the cavity there is a white piece of paper which at first looks to have nothing on it. The lad puts the brick back and unfolds the paper upon which is a map of sorts sketched by hand.

The lad leads me from the walled garden into the basement kitchen and thence to a basement room. He turns on the fluorescent light overhead. The stark lighting reveals a number of filing cabinets. He shows me one in olive-khaki green. The drawers have handwritten labels which have yellowed with age. The writing has been done with a fountain pen is a sloped script which I know to be that of a female. There is a locking bar down the face of the cabinet. At the bottom the padlock has been removed by the lad. He shows me it. Implicit is that the key is in his trouser pocket. There is a sense that this archive dates back to the second world war and that nobody knows what to do with it nor can they decipher it. It has been in the safe keeping of his family.

The dream ends.

Tag: cooking

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

Bridge – Posh House – Special Needs -Cooking – Dead Drop – Filing Cabinet Dream 02-02-2025