Batch

07-16-2013 -- I find myself driving around in Cambridge, England (at first) though slowly it morphs to London, England. I have no map, I just seem to know the general layouts of the streets from all my past dreams here. While I am still in Cambridge, I find myself thinking I might go visit Diane Farrow for a bit (the person who provided a room for me while I spent a sememster studying in England). I think she is just a couple blocks away, but as I am traversing those couple blocks, the shift to London occurs.

I am soon driving up a hill in a little yellow car, but end up having to stop because there is a lorry sprawled across the roadway unloading Subway sandwiches for the large church we are driving past, but doing so very slowly. I am considering trying to back up out of the area, but a huge tractor trailer has pulled up behind me, and he is already trying to back up, and pulverising a couple of parked cars in the process, so I think I'd just better wait a bit. Soon the Bobbies have arrived, and are threatening the unloaders to get a move-on, so things finally start to clear up.

As I head further up the hill and prepare to make a right turn from the right lane I am in to the right lane of the street I am turning on, I am mentally congratulating myself for remembering to drive on the left. [I'm not, I'm driving on the right but calling it the left. But so is everybody else in the dream, so eh ....] Soon I have parked the car (in London? Now I know I am dreaming) and am walking along on foot, considering inexpensive things like walking tours, since I have somehow made this trip to England with almost no money. Dale has found a church where they will let us sleep in the pews at night, but right now it is the middle of the day, and they are about to provide a meal.

There are some odd theme park-like queue lines that involve climbing up and around scenery, and somehow Dale has gotten several places ahead in line, and I am trying to catch up. Oddly, somebody behind me in the line starts to cut my hair, trimming out the oddly dyed pink bits that I somehow know I got in another dream, even if I can't remember such a dream.

I'm now around the back side of the church, wandering around two or three large buildings, and the queues have dispersed and Dale is not in sight, so I am trying to figure out where to go. The building directly ahead of me somehow looks a bit too fancy to be where destitute tourists would eat, so I keep walking, and soon find myself right behind a guard who seems to be preparing for a visit from the queen, and is really starting to question my presence here. He eventually sics a large German Shepherd on me, and I end up wrestling with the dog, but he doesn't really try to hurt me, just chews on my hand a little bit, and is a friendly sort ... to me.

Soon I find I have circled the entire building, and am back near the posh entrance that I doubted was the right one. This time I continue up to the entrance and find myself in a sort of buffet line, being offered all kinds of meat that might be somewhat common in England, but it much less so in America, such as venison, lamb and the like. But I never do catch up with Dale.