Finally, after a lot of time, I have another dream I want to tell.
I was in southern Switzerland, driving with my car. I tell my GPS navigator to bring me home, and it computes the route to Zurich, but it’s perfectly normal to me. So, I’m driving north, approaching the Gotthard tunnel, which somehow makes me a bit anxious, even if I’m not claustrophobic. But instead of being in the usual highway, it looks like a mountain road, there are turns and curves and I’m going uphill. The only difference with an usual mountain route is that the other lane is on a separate road, that makes specular turns making the road look kinda like a DNA strand on my GPS map.
I reach the tunnel entrance, but it’s slightly different than I remember. It has only one direction, and on the left there’s like an emergency lane, paved in red diagonal stripes. As soon as I enter, I see other cars moving to the left and some smoke, I fear there might be some crash inside so I slow down, but I see nothing, some cars just park there and the drivers exit their vehicles. On the right side I now notice a sidewalk and lots of doors with yellow exit signs that seem to lead to stairs. I keep on driving, slowly, on this tunnel that’s way more curvy than it’s supposed to be, and keeps going upwards and downwards, until I somehow understand that it’s just a garage, and I have to park because that’s the customs.
So I park, enter one of those doors that leads me to a long and winding set of stairs with green handrails and those anti-slip steps covered in black rubber with embossed circles. I arrive in an underground hall with the customs counter. I’m lucky there’s one without queue so I go there, there’s a lady whose face is familiar to me. I give her my passport and say I have nothing to declare - in fact, I shouldn’t even, since I came from Switzerland herself. She see’s I’m agitated and says “Fabio, don’t run”. I say “I won’t”. She looks at my passport, where somehow there’s a list of my possessions that I had to declare at the customs. And all my possessions are Nintendo consoles (a Wii, two DS-Lite). She says that I’m right, I didn’t have to declare anything. Then we watch each other in the eyes, because we both had the same déja-vu.
“I already told you this, didn’t I?”, she says. I say “you were working in Zurich, weren’t you?”, and she nods. I don’t think this dream refers to something that really happened, but in-dream I could now clearly recall a time where I had to stop at a Swiss customs office in Zurich and talked with that very same lady about my Nintendo consoles.
She gives my passport back and wishes me a good journey, so I exit the hall going upstairs and begin to look for my car. I feel lost, there’s doors and stairs everywhere and I can’t remember where I came from. There are two kids, 7 to 10 years, running around excited because they found “a secret”. The mother comes and tells them that they shouldn’t have looked behind those doors that were clearly labeled as private, but they keep saying that it’s “so cool” and they can’t wait until it becomes public. Now the mother is intrigued and I am too, so we take a peek behind the closed door.
We just see a giant pirate sword handle, all grey. It begins to rotate. As it does so, it raises a bit, as if it were being unscrewed. It turns out to be a giant cocktail plastic sword, but instead of olives and pimento, it pierces cars. We understand it’s the new parking system and we must admit, it is cool, and I can’t wait until it becomes operative.
I finally find my car and begin driving out of the tunnel. I’m still on top of the curvy road. I begin going down, letting gravity push my car, trying to follow my GPS, but it keeps telling me to turn back whenever one of the two “DNA roads” crosses the other. After a while, I decide to do so and get back up to the tunnel entrance. I park outside of it and see four people (three men, a woman) walking to a funicular railway whose station was a couple of meters on the left of the customs tunnel.
I approach them, finger raised to signal I want their attention. It’s cold outside, they have heavy coats and I can see clouds as they breathe. “Excuse me, I have a question”, I say. “A quick one, please”, says the taller man. He looks like a young John Cleese, mustache and all. “It is”, I say. “How do I get past the Gotthard?”
The four people exchange looks like I asked what’s 1+1, and John Cleese says “easy, the route to Pamela’s house”. “Which is…?” and he laughs and tells me the street name, as if I had to already know it. I don’t remember it now, but I remember writing it on my GPS and of course I needed the town too.
“Which town?”, I ask. My GPS suggests me the nonexistent city of Prescia (not Brescia, @ZakPhoenixMcKracken). “Is it Prescia? Or Airolo, Quinto (two cities near the actual tunnel entrance)?”. They don’t answer.
“Do I have to take the pass? Is the tunnel closed?”, I ask again. The shortest man says “no no, the tunnel’s open”, and the woman says “are you sure? It’s March” and the third man says “but it’s pretty cold, so” and they begin arguing (despite the fact that when it’s winter the pass closes, not the tunnel). They don’t answer anymore, keep on arguing about weather and tunnels, and they enter the funicular station leaving me alone.
I think that’s when I woke up.
I also have other scenes from another dream (or two dreams) but now I really have to get back to work.