Strange dream

I had a strange dream last night. Perhaps it was the gin I had before I went to bed.

I dreamt I was on my way to America, but the plane had to land unexpectedly in Ireland. I don’t remember why.  Naturally it did this by landing on a road and taxi-ing through a little village.

We all got out of the plane and just over the way, a couple of fields in the distance was a massive tornado. I was trying desperately to get my camera out so I could photograph it, but it was like one of those dreams where you’re trying to run and can’t. I couldn’t get the camera out in time, and then suddenly there wasn’t a tornado any more.

I seemed to be with someone from my team at work. I can’t remember who it was now – possibly Martin. We were walking around the village – including right through people’s gardens (as you do) and I remember there were several good weather vanes (I like to take photos of interesting weather vanes), but again I couldn’t get the camera out. It was only a point and shoot as well, not my big Nikon.

There was some sort of discussion as to whether the plane would have enough fuel to get it to Newark or not (which was something to do with the size of the plane – 737ish (i.e. small) – and  how high it needed to fly), and if not, how to get it fuel. I was wondering how on earth it was actually going to take off from a normal road.

And that’s all I remember.

Any thoughts on hidden meanings?