Mauritania à la Canada
Last night's dream was about Mauritania.
The first part of the dream was actually an episode of Supernatural. I had been reading some things people wrote about that show and it infected my subconscious, so I dreamed that I was watching an episode on DVD about the Winchesters being trapped in Mauritania.
This version of Mauritania was pretty sketchy. It was a formerly French-controlled island, now controlled by the British. Except that the British have completely enclosed Mauritania, like an arcology, and no one can enter or leave, or even move from one area to another with the arcology, without an electronic key-card. I think Sam was trapped inside, somehow, and his brother was communicating over a videophone with Mauritanian officials trying to get him out.
There wasn't much to this part of the dream, although I should mention I know it was a DVD because I was looking at special features afterward, which seemed to consist mainly of old movie trailers for other DVD products.
Inspired by the first part of my dream, I decided to explore the "real" Mauritania. Fortunately, in my dream, Mauritania was an island off the west coast of North America somewhere north of California. Amusingly, there was no Washington or Oregon in my dream, or even Chico or Redding; everything north of Sacramento was another country. Mauritania, as in the first part of my dream, was a British territory formerly controlled by France, although it was no longer an arcology.
I went on some kind of Duck Tour, travelling around the apparently rectangular island, which was only large enough for one city. The architecture was very 17th-century colonial, with lots of statues of eagles and angels with gold paint on them. I somehow got off the boat and was walking south along a sidewalk to get a closer look, but then I got worried about how to get home, since I realized I hadn't brought my passport with me.
Heading south, I got to an old fort built of red brick. There didn't seem to be any way around it. Fortunately, I noticed a woman who seemed to be a tourist and followed her; she was informed by a groundskeeper where to wait for the next ferry to the States. I went inside a large dark room with rows of folding metal chairs, where we were seated in separate groups. They would call our number (the number of the ferry?) when it was time for us to leave. I was worrying about what to do, since I hadn't come in on one of these ferries but had somehow jumped ship from my tour.
The group I was sitting with was called, and I followed them outside, to what looked like flooded streets. Come to think of it, that Duck Tour around the island seemed more like it was on flooded streets than on the ocean... I was still worried about not having my passport, when I realized this ferry was going south -- the right direction -- but I had forgotten that Canada was in between Mauritania and the U.S., which meant I was going to have even more trouble getting off the ferry in Canada, then somehow getting home.
So I jumped up in the air, did a somersault, and vanished in a puff of smoke, teleporting back home. No, really. Obviously, I've been playing too much Sims, since it looked exactly like the ninja teleport.
Of course, when I woke up, I checked up on Mauritania and found out my sleep-brain had made up pretty much all the details. I guess I won't be heading north to visit the island of Mauritania anytime soon.
The first part of the dream was actually an episode of Supernatural. I had been reading some things people wrote about that show and it infected my subconscious, so I dreamed that I was watching an episode on DVD about the Winchesters being trapped in Mauritania.
This version of Mauritania was pretty sketchy. It was a formerly French-controlled island, now controlled by the British. Except that the British have completely enclosed Mauritania, like an arcology, and no one can enter or leave, or even move from one area to another with the arcology, without an electronic key-card. I think Sam was trapped inside, somehow, and his brother was communicating over a videophone with Mauritanian officials trying to get him out.
There wasn't much to this part of the dream, although I should mention I know it was a DVD because I was looking at special features afterward, which seemed to consist mainly of old movie trailers for other DVD products.
Inspired by the first part of my dream, I decided to explore the "real" Mauritania. Fortunately, in my dream, Mauritania was an island off the west coast of North America somewhere north of California. Amusingly, there was no Washington or Oregon in my dream, or even Chico or Redding; everything north of Sacramento was another country. Mauritania, as in the first part of my dream, was a British territory formerly controlled by France, although it was no longer an arcology.
I went on some kind of Duck Tour, travelling around the apparently rectangular island, which was only large enough for one city. The architecture was very 17th-century colonial, with lots of statues of eagles and angels with gold paint on them. I somehow got off the boat and was walking south along a sidewalk to get a closer look, but then I got worried about how to get home, since I realized I hadn't brought my passport with me.
Heading south, I got to an old fort built of red brick. There didn't seem to be any way around it. Fortunately, I noticed a woman who seemed to be a tourist and followed her; she was informed by a groundskeeper where to wait for the next ferry to the States. I went inside a large dark room with rows of folding metal chairs, where we were seated in separate groups. They would call our number (the number of the ferry?) when it was time for us to leave. I was worrying about what to do, since I hadn't come in on one of these ferries but had somehow jumped ship from my tour.
The group I was sitting with was called, and I followed them outside, to what looked like flooded streets. Come to think of it, that Duck Tour around the island seemed more like it was on flooded streets than on the ocean... I was still worried about not having my passport, when I realized this ferry was going south -- the right direction -- but I had forgotten that Canada was in between Mauritania and the U.S., which meant I was going to have even more trouble getting off the ferry in Canada, then somehow getting home.
So I jumped up in the air, did a somersault, and vanished in a puff of smoke, teleporting back home. No, really. Obviously, I've been playing too much Sims, since it looked exactly like the ninja teleport.
Of course, when I woke up, I checked up on Mauritania and found out my sleep-brain had made up pretty much all the details. I guess I won't be heading north to visit the island of Mauritania anytime soon.