Treasure Hunt Dream

I awoke this morning with vivid memories of a most extraordinary dream. Let me share its essentials with you!

Briefly, a friend had called me in the evening to say that he had put my name down for a treasure hunt and that I should pick up my instructions by 9 o’clock the next morning.

Hundreds of people – mostly fairly elderly men – were hanging around in a spacious square and we were told over a loudspeaker that we would each be assigned a destination to which we should find our way. On arrival, we should immediately start hunting for treasures and continue till mid-day. We should then get back to the starting point by 12.30. We must hunt with great diligence but not tell anyone what we were doing, other than to say “I am busy” or “please leave me in peace”. We were each given a 1 metre long wooden plank and told to set off, holding it above our heads.

My hunting ground was to be the botanic garden in this nameless town, set on a steep hill overlooking an azure sea. I somehow arrived there and started frantically scrambling under shrubs, cutting down a couple of trees, getting scratched all over by thorns, losing my trousers (but not my khaki underpants) and mis-laying the plank. Quite a few people, including the curator, came by and asked lots of questions but got no answers. They let me continue unimpeded and at noon, having found nothing, I walked out of the gate and was wandering down the street aimlessly when someone offered me a lift in his car. He did not ask any questions but drove me past the main sights in the town and then kindly dropped me outside an imposing building.  I went in through the massive open door and found the place teeming with hundreds of equally dishevelled people. There was no room on the ground floor so I literally crawled, exhausted, up the stairs to the first floor where I saw several friends and sat on a chair. We all sat in total silence, expecting something to happen. None of the organizers appeared and there was no prize giving – presumably because there had been no treasures hidden in the first place.

We had been duped and made to look very foolish!

I woke up!

I suppose that one should not attempt to interpret the meaning of one’s dreams. However, on waking, it immediately struck me that this crazy dream helped to explain the hapless Mrs. May’s problem.

Theresa is on a treasure hunt for which there is no hidden treasure. She will continue to hunt desperately till midnight on 29th March 2019, telling us that she knows what she is looking for but that she is unable to disclose it. She and the electorate will then wake up and realize, too late, that they have been duped by the likes of Johnson, Gove, Fox, Farage and Banks, now aided and abetted by Bannon. They set up the treasure hunt, promising lots of good prizes, but have conveniently vanished from the scene, leaving us all, including the prime minister, looking stupid and much the poorer for it. Presumably they are now celebrating their successful ruse and plotting their next move over a few mugs of beer.

I can’t think of an explanation for the wooden plank that went missing!

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