I’ve had a number of things in my dreams this morning that I hardly ever think about during my waking hours. First I was driving Mr and Mrs Ogino and their daughter Chihiro around the suburbs of Belfast in a Vauxhall Viva. Now, Chihiro is the protagonist in “Spirited Away” and Mr Ogino has a brand new, top-of-the-range Audi so I can’t imagine what he and his family would be doing riding around in a clanky old car that’s nearly forty years old.
Later on, as I was sitting on the stairs, Elvis Presley was practising his singing in the hall. I didn’t know what song it was but I think it was one of his hits from his latter years.
So, Mr Ogino and family and Mr Presley, welcome to my subconscious.
Here’s the surest sign yet that I’ve settled down in Ireland: I dreamt that I was in Ireland.
You know that you’ve become fluent in French when you start dreaming in French. Well, my dreams this morning were based on more or less the same principle. In one dream I was wandering around the centre of Belfast, down Donegall Street, near the Belfast Telegraph offices, to be precise.
In the other, I was on a bus, a Bristol RE, the kind that were seen on Belfast’s streets from about 1977 to the early 2000s. I was directing the driver up Church Street in Downpatrick, up past the church, past the telephone exchange, to where we were to pick up a crowd of friends.
So, they’re not really remarkable dreams. In fact they’re quite boring, but it shows that not only is my body in Ireland but my soul is too.
That reminds me, I haven’t been on www.belfastforum.co.uk for a while. Must check up and see how they’re doing.