Seaside Depot

A familiar and recurring location manifested itself in this dream, namely a seaside resort sharing elements of real life locations. I had recently passed my driving test and was allowed to venture forth by myself for the first time. No longer beholden to public transport, I took my dog, Beibei, and drove for about an hour until I came to the aforementioned place. My vehicle was a curious thing. Taller than it was wide, it resembled a miniature bus fitted with flashing disco lights around the bonnet. It ran on electricity instead of petrol. I drove it through the ticket barrier into a multi storey car park but, being a new driver and lacking confidence, I allowed a nearby valet to park it in a bay for me. He also performed a cleaning service. I left Beibei behind, with the windows cracked, and ventured out onto the pier.

It was a grey, brisk day, and the sea gleamed with a milky haze. There were many leisure amenities on the pier, including a large building called the Seaside Depot. It was a mall-like complex containing arcades, restaurants, bars, a theatre, cinema, swimming pool, etc. There was also an outdoor fair with rides, and a zoo with a monorail running through it. I was supposed to be attending a live stand up performance featuring a famous comedian but his name completely escapes me now. I don't like comedy and had probably been peer pressured into it. Still, I was happy to be exploring a new place and trying something different. I asked two charity collectors sitting outside the gates where I could buy a ticket, and they handed me a map of the complex.

Scanning the map for the hall where the comedy act was supposed to take place, I was excited to see that the outdoor zoo had a section labelled 'African Savanna' marked with hippo icons (my favourite animals), but unfortunately I woke up before I got to see them. I entered the Depot and followed a maze of corridors searching for the main reception. As I ventured deeper into the complex and had a good look around, all thoughts of the comedy act were forgotten. The zoo itself had been enough to tempt me to change my plans, and I determined to fully scout out the area with a view to bringing my child along on one of our Daddy and Daughter days. I descended a staircase and was met with the reek of chlorine.

I was in a long, clinically-lit passageway full of complex pipework, pumps, and filtration devices. Water sloshed over the sides of rectangular basins lined up along both sides of the passage, the tops of which were at hip level to myself. This is recurring dream imagery I've had since I was a child, so I had a good idea of what to expect. Ear-splitting whistles and screams suddenly rose above the whirr of machinery, the gurgle of water, and the clanking of pipes. In the narrow water troughs on the left, I saw the white, rounded, melon heads of belugas bobbing up and down. Belugas have featured in my dreams a lot since I saw them in a Beijing aquarium and was deafened by their screams. I have always felt that they are too large to keep in captivity, and their tanks in the dream were little more than water troughs.

Farther along, at about the midway point of these strange holding tanks, I came across another curious sight. On the right hand side, an even smaller tank held two blue wildebeests. They aren't actually blue, that's just their species name. Although wildebeest are strong swimmers, having to navigate fast-flowing rivers, they are most certainly not aquatic, or even semi-aquatic beasts. They huddled together, lower halves submerged in the water, their top halves slumped against the wall. Sodden manes plastered against shivering necks, dripping beards, and rolling, bloodshot eyes gave me the the impression of miserable old men in a bathtub. A typical feature of these dreams is to have animals squashed into tanks that are far too small for them, paddling pitifully in tight circles, or wallowing listlessly like these wildebeest.

I left the hall of tanks behind and came into a carpeted lobby with an American diner off to the side. The smell of cooking made me hungry. I noticed that some people had their dogs with them on leads, so I decided to head back to the car for Beibei. Once there, dream logic kicked in and my daughter was also in the car with Beibei. She was covered in bad eczema rashes and I began applying her cream whilst telling her about the place I had discovered. I awoke soon after this, filled with a desire to visit the beach. Our subsequent trip to Brighton was a bad idea. I got into an argument with an interfering woman accusing me of animal abuse because I tied Beibei up outside the swing park. I also had an unpleasant encounter with a charity salesman, prompting me to wonder if my dream had not been slightly prophetic.