It was a simply glorious day, the moors were vibrant with new growth, the sky was perfect, and I was racing east on my classic Norton. It was that lush feeling of pure joy, hands encased in leather gauntlets, head snug in my old flying helmet, and for once the goggles were clear of fingerprints or dead insects. The narrow road was clear of anyone else and I hurtled along, swooping round bends, accelerating up rises, zooming down hills. I was laughing with sheer happiness and the thrill of it.
I stopped in the nameless city and wandered along, enjoying the bustle of the cheerful crowds, dressed in such vibrant and jolly outfits. The red brick buildings loomed above me, towering up to the still brilliant sky. I found myself in the old town, and began to explore the ancient ruins, carved into the red rock, broken, well-worn steps, huge arched openings where windows had once been, and in places walls missing. Others were wandering as I was, up the winding stairs, gazing down into excavations, marvelling at the magnificent remains of the old castle and defences. It was busy and i caught sight of a friend I hadn’t seen for such a while, but he passed me in a stream of people, and I was carried along by the crowd going in the opposite direction and we were barely able to exchange a couple of words.
It was time to depart, i had a job to go to, but I had got myself hopelessly lost as I dawdled through this historic old pile. It dawned on me that my cousin would know the directions I needed. Of course, I realised, I was going to Cambridge where she lived! I found my Norton, parked in a sunlit gully which must have been near a school as there were young people in uniform, dazzling white shirts and green and black striped ties, wandering about on their break. I seemed to recognise some of them, and they called out greetings, handsome Pakistani and Bangladeshi lads, some of the girls in green uniform shalwa kameez. They were wondering why I was there, what I was dong, where I was going, joking and teasing me for being so vague.
I took out my phone which was a tiny lilac thing with a minute screen, invisible in the sunshine, and my other phone which also seemed smaller than I remembered, was similarly impossible to read. I was somewhat frustrated, but back on my bike, I struggled my way through the busy, slow-moving traffic. The red bricks seemed to throw the heat of the sun down into the streets, packed with noisy vehicles and throngs of people, trying to pass along the packed pavements.
I got in a right old muddle, totally lost now, a little cross with myself and unable to make progress, but then I was leaving the town, heading away along clearer roads. I was going to be late for whatever it was, typical me, despite my best intentions of getting there not just on time but early. Oh well, couldn’t be helped now.
You’ve probably guessed, it was a dream
Lois Elsden 