The first dream starts with us welcoming a young boy into our house. He is sandy haired and with freckles. It is a French house with linear stairs and the boy is of French extraction.

He goes out for the day and when we come back, he has left us an ornamental plant and a bottle of milk on the stairs.

I say to him that this is now his home and he can place the milk in the refrigerator in the kitchens alongside ours.

I wake up for a loo break and learn that my wife has not yet slept.

I am in a garage around a yard of sorts where there are various units of an artisanal nature. I notice that from time to time a model car drives across the courtyard and into one of the units. The next time this happens it is a toy Mercedes. I follow the car into the unit and it tips over slightly spilling some cuboid white crystals onto the floor.

The remote driver comes in and he sees that I have seen the drugs spill from the toy car.

He comes over to me and I explain that I was a chemistry lecturer. I point him at one of my papers on carbazole. I know what the substance is.

The next day there is another delivery and I explain to him that I am not going to bust him to the cops because I used to do drugs, weed and ‘shrooms.

He is satisfied.

At this point a large minibus pulls up and collects the wife and I. Warren Gatland is driving and we are going South over the border into an important event in Italy. Not everyone has been invited. We drive for a number of hours. The sky clears to blue and the architecture becomes Italianate.  We arrive at a magnificent walled city reminiscent of Valetta. From our approach we can marvel at the buildings.

We get out and are sitting around on a piazza. Gatland asks what wine is best to have with pasta. He goes round and people in the group give various answers including Pinot Grigio. I say Cloudy Bay from New Zealand, a Southern hemisphere wine. He agrees that this is best.

We are the on some kind of boat in an underground canal system. Either side of the boat are exquisite carvings in white marble. I wonder out loud, “how many man hours went into the carving of that goat?” We enter a white vaulted and domed space with a jetty. We disembark and arrive at the lobby of a top notch posh Italian hotel. This where we will be staying and where the event is.

I ask at the front desk if there is a cash machine.

A grey haired man in a white jacket lifts up a wooden lid to reveal a cash machine. At first attempt I cannot get my CCF card into the slot. He asks me how much money I want. I reply £100. He says that that won’t last long here, things are expensive it will be gone in a flash. I put my CCF card in and type in my real world pin which contains 3 and 5.  I ask for £200. The card reader rejects my card. I then try my HSBC gold visa with the pin which adds to 23. I ask for £300. It too is declined.

I am mildly concerned that it is a posh affair and that I have no trousers which will fit me.

At this stage there are numerous very small kittens running over my hand with the machine and playing with me. Sat outstretched on the front desk is woman in a black outfit as per Sally Bowles in Cabaret. She is holding a cigarette in a black cigarette holder. She is feline. She wants me to pat her and play with her like I am doing with the kittens.

 I get up and the grey haired man and I climb up to the top floor of the hotel. It is in need of renovation. We are trying to fix the satellite dish which is the connection for the cash machine. We go out onto the roof. I manage to dislodge the satellite dish from its fixations. I tell that man that if he can get a signal finder instrument, I will be able to realign his dish for him so that it works.

We go down into one of the rooms on the top floor. It is a bit of a state with some graffiti. In the room are two red and green birds. They are long tailed and look like miniature parakeets.

I turn to the window in the room. I open it slightly and the birds come over to my hand. One sits on my left hand and the other on the window latch. I open the window further and both birds fly out.

In the sky formed of birds I can see the distinct outline of first the yellow rose of friendship and then a wolf in a howling posture. 

I am surprised by this. It is overtly Toltec.

Dream ends.