Here is this morning’s dream
I arrive at a building, I am decked out for travel. I have with me a small carry-on suitcase, a lap-top, a large overcoat and a thing which I know to be a musical instrument of some kind or another.
I go through some automatic glass doors which slide sideways to open into a large “lounge” or holding area. The doors are of frosted glass and inlaid into this is some ornate official crest. I somehow know that this crest pertains to a clandestine American intelligence agency. It is all very slick and grand.
The lounge is an airport departure lounge, one of those posh pre-flight lounges. I am due to get on a flight to “Westphalia” in an hour or so.
One of the “airline” staff, female, and dressed smartly in uniform comes over to me and starts talking. She ascertains my identity. They have been looking for me.
Apparently or so she says, one of my ex-students has run amok and gone off the rails at a Stereophonics gig. He has been asking for me as a matter of some urgency. It is the job of the woman to try to get my mobile ‘phone number and to give me the code 3-9-1. This code means nothing to me.
I tell her that I cannot remember my own telephone number, so I will have to boot up my ‘phone to retrieve it. I do this and no matter where I look on my “vintage” telephone I cannot find the address book on it. I say this to the woman. Soon we are joined by a couple of “techie” young men and they try to locate my ‘phone number on my ‘phone. Whilst they are doing this my ‘phone morphs into a smart-phone, a tablet and back again. No matter how hard they try they cannot locate my number. I know that it is there. They ask me how I communicate with my wife and in the dream, I joke that I use the mind-link.
It gets close to departure time and there is a last call for the flight. There is fifteen minutes to go. They let me go and I race off towards the plane.
As I leave the “lounge” I can see the woman roll up a flag attached to a pole. The flag is an official flag with a crest. At the top of the pole are a decorative twin eagle pair.
I arrive in the airport in Westphalia. I am now wearing a Bavarian hat at a jaunty angle. I have purchased this at duty-free. Another person meets me there, they are still looking for my telephone number. I say that I will look for it calmly when I get to my hotel. They write down their contact details on some paper which they press into my hand. Somehow it is urgent and important for them.
I say that once I have had a nice bottle of beer, which I am very much looking forward to, I will contact them. They reiterate 3-9-1.
I go outside to the taxi rank and speak to a taxi driver in hochdeutsch and we head off towards my hotel.