‘Are you going anywhere this summer?’ ‘Are you spending Christmas in England?’ I’m often asked about my travel plans, which are invariably non-existent. I loathe all things Christmassy, and it’s the worst time of year to head to the UK. Everyone is stressed, tickets are overpriced, and your plans are invariably thrown into chaos by two flakes of snow or a train strike. But then I’m not keen on traveling at any time of the year. Why would I subject myself to the hell of travel, when I can go to much more interesting places in my dreams?
My dreams are epic. They’re visual, memorable and truly original. None of those boring standard themes like flying and teeth falling out. Alien invasions appear to be something of a theme. I once dreamt that aliens blew up my home town, which disturbed neither Dream Me nor Waking Me (if you’ve been to my home town you’ll understand). Another very detailed dream was also about an alien invasion. A few years later I can still remember how the dream progressed, see the visuals in my mind and recall the sense of dread as the alien-induced storm clouds rolled in. It was like shooting a movie. I didn’t like the way it turned out so I dreamt it again, reshooting certain scenes. Yes, my dreams even have a director’s cut.
Even the more ‘mundane’ dreams often involve travel. They aren’t entirely geographically accurate, it’s true. I tend to go from London to Australia in an hour, or hop on a train in France and get off in Turkey ten minutes later. Now that’s my idea of global travel. Maybe I’m prescient and forecasting future inventions like super high speed trains or teleportation.
In my dreams…
There are no strikes. Travel is free. You don’t need a passport or have to wrestle with an uncooperative airline website. You don’t have to spend hours trying to work out whether That Airline That Nobody Likes And That Lands You Miles Away From Your Destination is cheaper than The One With The Hideous Uniforms That Charges A Fiver For A Sandwich. Every night is a new adventure, and all I have to do is go to sleep. I actually get quite annoyed if I have a mundane dream. And I feel sorry for you if you don’t remember yours. Maybe I should start selling tickets to mine.
