Recently, I had 2 dreams on 2 separate nights that aren't really a part of each other, but they had themes that made them seem like a 2-part dream. The first dream involves being at a strange airport, and the other dream involves flying to some Tiki-like country like Tahiti or even the state of Hawaii and vising what was supposed to be world's biggest indoor hotel swimming pool.
In the first dream, my husband Steve who wore a scarf on his head and a leather trenchcoat like a modern-day pirate and I (not dressed like a pirate) were at a strange airport. No idea where it was. This airport had no waiting rooms, just corridors and corridors snaking around like a line going to a ride at Disneyland, filled with people milling around or waiting in lines or on chairs lining the corridor walls like at a DMV office. These people weren't just waiting to get on planes -- they were waiting to get plane tickets from what seemed to be lotteries (or raffles) offered by uniformed agents. It seems you have no choice of where you want to go - you just get whatever tickets they're giving out. Surprise vacations, I guess. But the process seems to take a long time. After what felt like hours, a thirty-something man who was sitting by us jumped up when his name was called. He came back quickly waving a plane ticket. "Look _- I got a plane ticket. It goes to Senegal. Not exactly what I envisioned, but hey, it should be an adventure, right? Bye!" Then he disappered down the corridor.
I was napping, lying across a row of chairs with a white pillow when Steve nudged me awake. He said, "We got tickets -- we gotta go now!"
I didn't get to ask where we were going, as we hurried outside with me still carrying that pillow, following a crowd down a board sidewalk at the bottom of a hill with neatly mowed grass on it. The crowd continued on a concrete stairway running up the hill to a flattened and paved top, where a 747 awaited. I couldn't see all of the plane due to a large tree blocking my view. But I could see its turquoise blue and white nose poised magestically against a bright sky. The dream ended there, so I don't know where we might be going.
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The dream next night had me flying a British Airways flight to some touristy island in the Pacfiic Seas, which is curious as I'd never flew British Airways or flew to the Pacific Seas. Steve wasn't with me, as this apparently was a timeframe when I was still in college, before I meat Steve. Upon landing, I met my parents who prompty took me to a resort with a mall. The mall was filled with a lot of touristy shops. After eyeballing batik sarongs, plastic Tiki figurines, shot glasses with pictures of hula dancers and other kitchy goodies, I spied a sign by an open doorway, reading "Come visit the world's largest hotel swimming pool!' I insisted that we check it out.
After acquiring appropiate swimwear and towels, we returned to the doorway which led to a concrete staircase with metal railings going down. The stairs went down and down, turning around at each flight. Finally, we reached the bottom and beheld the "world's largest hotel swimming pool." It turned out to be a bit disappointing. It was large, all right, but not as huge as I'd expected. It was the size of four or six Olympic pools, flanked on both sides by wide rows of hotel balconies. And it wasn't very deep -- about three feet deep. There were many people in it, but due to the crowding, there wasn't room for swimming, so they just waded around in the pool. We walked into the pool anyway -- curiously, this pool has ramps so you could stroll into the pool without climbing or jumping in. The pool was nice but underwhelming. Ah, well.
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