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So with our upcoming trip to India (and the rest of Asia) fast approaching… 2 days away to be exact “eeeekkkk!!!”, I have been getting some pretty nervous feelings.

Not to the point where I would ever consider not going, but there just seems to be more and more things to get stressed over. 1. the size of my luggage, and having to lug it from one town to the next. 2. the uncertainty of all the transport. and 3. the weather.

despite all of this, I always say,

it is the things that go wrong that make for the best stories.

however that motto didn’t stop me from having my first ‘travel nightmare’. my mum has always had reoccurring nightmares about travelling, since going by herself when she was 25 and again, with me when she was 35, and I was 5. Her nightmares ranged from losing her passport to losing me!

Photo by Richard McAlister from Pexels

So what happened in my dream?

It started with us arriving at Delhi airport. We had just left the airport and were instantly transported to the Delhi markets. After about 10 minutes, we realised we hadn’t collected our main rucksacks, so raced back to the airport to collect them from the conveyor belt.

We asked for help to find it from one of the airport workers (who happened to be from Manchester………), he and another woman helped us. They told us that we were in the complete wrong part of the airport and the part we needed to get to, was the bus station on the other side of the airport.

we began to race to the bus station, as we were late and everyone was waiting for us (according to the Mancunian and the woman). I was struggling to keep up, i looked down to my feet, and realised I was wearing one stiletto high heel and one nike Air Force trainer. No wonder I was struggling.

In the usual fashion of dreams, our bags some how ended up on the backs of the airport staff who were helping us. Ed and the Mancunian man were way ahead of myself and the woman… due to my shoe situation.

Once we had almost reached the bus station we came to an uphill slope made of broken up concrete. Everyone had made it to the top except for me. There were ‘gap year’ people and hippies passing me up the hill and laughing whilst I struggled at the bottom with my stiletto.

Eventually I had an amazing idea. I called to the woman that was carrying my bag at the top of the hill, “my other trainer is in the bag, i’ll come and get it, change my shoe, then I can get up.” Once I got to the top and changed my shoe, so I could climb the hill, I then realised I had just climbed the hill without even noticing.

I then raced for the bus that was waiting for me, and Ed was already onboard. I climbed the stairs and walked through the aisle to find him. I finally relaxed, and the bus began to drive straight away, at a faster speed than most busses do. I asked ed where the two airport staff had put our bags, he replied, “YOU were supposed to put it under the bus’.

My heart sank as I realised the woman was still carrying my rucksack and my carry on backpack, containing everything!!!

SHIT.

Photo by Fancycrave.com from Pexels

Does anyone read dreams, and can analyse this one?

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