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

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

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.