A weird dream

I take a Trazodone tablet at night to help me sleep. Often I add a glass of Baileys or a sleepy tea. It can lead to weird dreams. Last night was really OTT. In actuality just before we went to sleep, Clare rushed into the bedroom saying the cooker was on fire. Of course I went downstairs and fearing a gas leak was yelling at them to open the back door. In fact the cooker was so filthy that it had ignited the congealed fat. A lecture on keeping the cooker clean was given.

Nowadays I don't live in Prudhoe any more having moved to Castle Douglas so I thought I must get some sleep now. A very weird dream followed. In this dream Fiona and I were on the A68 heading south. Somewhere above Tow Law we found ourselves behind a horsebox behind an artic behind a council lawnmower. You do not get past that on the A68 and the convoy remained intact to Witton Le Wear. We escaped somehow but had lost time and so a lunch was taken at the site of the old Piercebridge Railway Station now a garden centre. The fish pie dish was indescribably brilliant.

Why were we on the A68? I must have been remembering how almost exactly two years ago, the Industrial Railway Society and our best man Greg Howell had organised a once in a lifetime visit to a farm railway near Boston. Once we got onto the A1 we thundered south tempted by the possibility that 09022 and the Boston railway swing bridge could be seen in action in a two hour envelope. Somewhere near Minskip the overhead gantries started saying 1 hour delay Junctions 43-46 or such message. It was a dream so do I have to be specific? 

I am a dab hand with the map so we headed over to York thence aiming for the A19 to Barlby. All very slow. Then southabout Howden M62, M180, M18,  Lots of roadworks on the Ouse bridge. We got to the A15 hoping for a swift journey to Lincoln. There were a lot of Roman Chariots taking fodder north and a peace camp outside RAF Scampton protesting over some government plan. I wonder if back in those days it was a dual carriageway? Allowing important chariots to hurtle past lowly fodder carriers? Or did they have to stay in line. This was a dryish route London to York. Was there a roll on roll ferry at Wintringham so you were not parted from your favourite chariot?

We reached Lincoln and headed for the Eastern Bypass. Red tail lights came into view just as a traffic alert popped up. The bypass was shut because of a smash. Take first left at the next roundabout. I struggled to refix the route to Boston. After a few miles the signs to villages that I expected to see on my left were on my right. I thought we must go via the 1848 station and level crossing at Snelland. Time passed. We were lost. I had to use a farmer's field for a pee. We reached Wragby. There may have been a police attended accident there.

By now Greg had told us he was photographing the 09 hauled train at the docks. Essentially all stuff from my East Anglian childhood through the sixties. The dream warped on and through Boston's terrible traffic we reached the swingbridge (my father knew it well) with one movement left. We were told Greg had faceplanted himself from a height having taken a picture. He was in pain and would be for  the rest of the dream. That would never happen really.

We got to the Premier Inn just as we had done two years before. And then to the The Windmill Inn for dinner as before. By now I was so hungry I had five slices of salami beforehand. I ordered Scampi and an orange squash lemonade. I was promptly sick over the pub wall. Fiona took me back to the hotel and then went out to find calming materials. I thought a hot bath would help. She seemed gone a long while. She only had to get to the ASDA by the station. I tried to get out of the bath. In truth two years before it was no problem. Now I was stuck. I could not get out of the bath.

Fiona reappeared. We went to sleep. Come the morning Greg and Richard went for an appalling breakfast in Weatherspoons where fried egg became scrambled. The one sane thing in this dream was that Fiona and I took  a Continental Breakfast at the Premier Inn. The next idea would be that all four of us would take Greg's open top AUDI  and see some more trains. At some stage I got stuck in the footwell of his back seats. We got to the farm railway of two years ago. A little locomotive Fiona and I knew in Ayrshire in the 1980s was at work. Talyllyn Railway No 7 was in bits. There was a  Fordson tractor that was a locomotive. How weird was all that? Fiona cycled a rail velocipede. In one train there was a tiny crudely built carriage. I was told it had been used to take prisoners to reclaim the Wash. Sure enough in an instant we were at the prison gate being taken on a tour of railway and train remains.

Next we drove to Ashbourne. Somewhere near Ripley we got hungry. We went into a pub called The Excavator. Saturday night it was empty. No seats showing as reserved. When we enquired about food, we were told they had run out. Before 7pm on a Saturday. I muttered about Eurovision. A pub called The Canal Inn Bullbridge was much more welcoming. Suddenly the dream morphed into serious IA. All about Outram's plateway  and the world's oldest railway tunnel which rushed into  the dream. We got to Greg and Sue's house in Ashbourne.

Next morning we were taken to Catholic Mass. Lovely. The priest was Hong Kong Chinese from Grimsby? At the end of the service he spent some moments explaining he was likely about to resign to look after his mother. An extra-ordinarily nice Sunday Pork Lunch followed from Sue and then we made our excuses. By Tuesday we would need to be in Ardrossan. We went out and hoped to connect with another plateway hub at Froghall. That went quite well save that try as I could I could not find the canal tunnel out of which back in 1979 a Durham Student's Union Transit minibus had rescued a narrow boat.

The long drive north followed and we wound up in Castle Douglas. There was going to be a day off from this madness. Monday 2pm Fiona went to the optician. She asked me to pop round. In no uncertain terms I was told to get her to the Newcastle RVI Eye Emergency Clinic NOW. By 7pm Monday we were back in Prudhoe. By 0710 am Tuesday we were on a train to Newcastle. 37054 was parked with Ultrasonic test train there. We were at the RVI at 0830 for clinic opening. At 1335 we left the hospital Fiona having had three retinal eye tears repaired. Half way through we went to a University cafe whose breakfast was £5.95 and then toured the Hancock Museum. We walked back through the Market for Leek Pudding. Back at the station a biomass train rolled through with a 60 at each end. We both woke up. She said she felt a bit sore.