Five German Women – Secret Compartment – Dream 16-03-2026

Here is this morning’s dream which is odd both for its subject content and the way the dream unfolded. It felt odd.

The dream opens on an inland beach. It is next to a large fresh water lake surrounded by woodland and verdant countryside. It is clearly summer. People are boating on and swimming in the lake. There is a smell of barbecues in the air. The wife and I are sat in deck chairs a little back from the beach in partial shade. Nearby is a group of five women. They are dressed in expensive bikini like swimwear, with expensive designer sunglasses and by the side of their chairs are expensive bags. They are five powerful women on a break together, a girls’ weekend. They are high maintenance and used to getting their way. They emanate a very European vibe. I can hear that they are speaking high German and comment upon this to the wife. The women are late thirties / early forties. One of them hears what I said and asks me in German if I understand what they have been saying. I respond that I can understand a very small amount of German and that this improves quickly with exposure. She says that she thinks I have a slight accent. I explain that I learned German in Bern many moons ago. She works out that we are British. The gang comes over and makes a big fuss, now in English, of the wife and I. They say that they don’t often get Brits at this lake. They are very sociable and welcoming. I can tell that they are highly skilled in people skills and are consummate professionals in some field or other. They are slick. It is a bit odd being professionally fussed over as if we were somehow “important”. It seems incongruent with my self-perception. “What is going on?”, I ask myself.

The dream changes and I am now in an isolated lodge or house also in the middle of a forest {wald}. In the grate there is a wood fire and the mantelpiece is large and carved out of wood. It is a bit Hansel and Gretel, a Germanic or Bavarian forest house. I am with a man and a woman, both seemingly Germanic. The man is forces or ex-forces. He has a very military bearing and is athletic and lithe. The woman is dark haired and clearly the boss. We are anticipating an important visit. I go over to check the fireplace. One can swing the fire forward on a hinged mechanism to reveal a secret compartment behind the fire place. I do this. I look at the framing of the compartment and decide that I am too large to get past the “portal” into the compartment as it stands. My shoulders are too broad. The man and I remove some of the frame and at a push I can now get into the compartment which forms a core to the house and has entrances into the lounge where we are, the kitchen and the cellar. It has viewers behind ventilation grills to see into the room. I can fit in and out. I leave the compartment and swing the fire back into place. We are a bit apprehensive as to who might come and if the meeting might go ahead. I have stashed the necessary documentation in the secret compartment.

We get into a car and look for an alternative. We go to the train station and the man and I go to the ticket barrier to get me a ticket to Cardiff. The next train is not for several hours. The ticket schemes are ludicrously complex. In order to buy a ticket I have to show my French driver’s licence. The man chats to me about being Welsh and that we all share an orientation and a mindset. We buy a ticket and I go down onto the platform.

Instead of catching the next train I can wait for another one. So I cross the train tracks illegally on foot and hurdle a fence onto the road to get to the car where the woman and now the man are waiting. I open the door to the back seat and get in. I say that we should go back to the lodge to see what if anything transpires. We will check the fire hiding the compartment and view the approach roads through the wood. The moment we see any approach I will go into the compartment. The woman in particular is pleased that we are going to try this. Implicit is one more time. Both the man and the woman feel somehow familiar.

The dream ends.

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

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.