Well, now that you mention it, I did leave out two very weird things about that dream that I can recall. "Someone" was, errm.. "commenting" on my dream as I was having it. I'm not sure if that's the right choice of words, but I will try to explain.
As I was standing in the elevator, some sort of "narrator" said that if I was dreaming then there would be no need for me to actually use the elevator. This seemed weird and this was what made me realise (or dream about realising) that I was lucid.
The second thing, which was even stranger, was the same voice "commenting" on the fact that I didn't have a clue what I was doing, as I was flying through those landscapes.
I wasn't sure what to make of it, and as I already said my dreams are usually fucked up inside out, so I didn't think anything of it. But now that I think about it, apart from the fact that I remember constantly rubbing my hands, I really do not remember being in possesion of my dream body.
It was as if it was a dream about *someone else* being lucid, rather than me, but the conclusion that I drew was that since my dreams are entirely the creative work of my brain, and nobody else's, then that must be the same thing. So when I woke up I was pretty sure that I was lucid, and that that is all there is to it.
Do you know what I mean?

In any case, thanks for clarifying that for me and perhaps even reviving some hope for my future lucidity, as I was beginning to think that lucid dreams are not all they are cracked up to be. I am looking forward to go to sleep tonight...