When in Rome

In my latest dream, I had moved back to Heartbreak Hotel, into my old room in the extension at the back of the house. I didn't have a child, and I don't think I was even married anymore, although Li was staying over in my room. I had devolved into a sort of adult teenager, and my shelves were full of the paraphenalia of yore. McFarlane horror figures, Resident Evil figurines, Star Wars toys, and action men. I also had a gaming PC set up on which I was playing Ark. I kept receiving expensive action men in the post, the latest being a weird looking solider with an extra large mouth. Li asked who was sending them, and I said I suspected it was Mr Robot. This was later confirmed on Whatsapp. Li told me to put a stop to it, as there was already too much clutter in my room, and she didn't think it was right that I was receiving pricey gifts.

In the next phase of the dream, I went on holiday with Mr Robot to Rome. We stepped off the ferry, and a short coach ride later, we were ready to explore the ancient city. I had with me my VR headset, which I hoped to use in the hotel we were staying at. I should have left it behind, as it was a cumbersome things to carry around. After exploring the dusty streets for some time, Mr Robot announced that he wanted to revisit a chapel near the tombs of the Ancient Kings, where we had apparently taken photos on an earlier holiday. It was full of tourists, mostly teenagers hanging around. In the centre of the chapel was a skeleton spread eagled on a big stone slab. We took it in turns to climb over the railing and lie down on the skeleton. When we did so, a trick of some holographic technology installed made our bodies disappear, leaving only our heads on the skeleton. We attracted the attention of some other tourists who were jealous of what we were doing. We took some silly photos and were then approached by a young Asian girl. bemused by our antics.

Mr Robot began to mingle and flirt with some of the teenagers, I sat down with the Asian girl and chatted for a bit. We both learned that around noon, the entire city would be flooded by the tides and remain submerged for two hours. During this time, locals and tourists usually absconded to high rise hotels for siestas or bars and restaurants for recreation. I looked down into the courtyard below the chapel and saw that the water was already lapping up the walls and flooding the streets. It was too late to go back to our hotel. Mr Robot was excited to go drinking and pooning with the teenagers and he wasted no time in diving into the water with them. The only way to access the rest of the city now was to hold one's breath, swim beneath some archways, and out onto the main road where the restaurants and bars were situated.

It took me a little more time to make up my mind to follow, and whilst I delayed, the water rose higher. I bobbed on the surface, weighing my options. I considered waiting it out back in the chapel, but everyone had left and it would be lonely. I also realised that now even the chapel's entrance was underwater, so I would need to dive under to go back there anyway. I might as well try and follow Mr Robot and the others. I dived below the cool green water and forced myself to keep my eyes open. With some strong strokes, careful not to disorient myself, I swam beneath the archway and into the flooded thoroughfare. There were a few fish swimming around, banded red and white groupers with frilly fins. I avoided them and resurfaced. I saw several other swimmers disappearing in different directions, down various submerged streets and alleyways, but no sign of Mr Robot.

In this main plaza were some larger fish, long and ribbon-like, churning up the water in agitation. They looked like oarfish, and I gave them a very wide berth. I would need to control my phobia whilst I found my way around. I climbed out onto some stone steps and followed them up to a smoky restaurant. I couldn't see anyone recognisable inside, and it seemed to be reservation only. I wanted to find a rooftop terrace where I could sit and knock back some cocktails until the flood subsided. I spent the next two hours alone, wandering aimlessly. Eventually, the water ebbed lower as the tide retreated, and the raw stink of sewage rose to greet me. All around, green sludge caked the cobbled roads, columns, statues, and railings. Dead fish lay everywhere, flapping feebly. Cleaning vehicles appeared and began scubbing the bespattered streets.

I decided that I wanted to go back to the hotel. It was a long journey trying to avoid stepping on all the dying fish, and at one point a small octopus. When I got back to the hotel, I saw with relief that we were on a high enough storey that our belongings were nice and dry. However, with a sinking sensation, I realised that I had left my VR headset in the chapel. Rome is known for its vagrants and pickpockets, so chances were high it would be gone, but I had to try. I couldn't afford to lose £500. There was still no sign of Mr Robot, he must have been still out enjoying himself, so I headed off alone. I got very lost trying to retrace my steps and relocate the chapel. I tramped the sludge-caked central thoroughfares, dazzled by the stone statues of gods, heroes, lions and statesmen. The cleaning vehicles were out in force, sucking up the detritus of the flood. It seemed crazy that this happened every day, and I thought about what an inconvenience it must be to live there.

Hours later, I was hot, tired, and hungry, and no closer to finding the chapel. I even caught a tourist tram that went all over the city, getting off at the Tombs. I had a good look around, but the city had seemed to change its layout since the flooding, and everywhere looked the same. There was nothing for it but to return to our port of origin, where we first got off the ferry, and go from there. I was at the coast, the sea behind me twinkling vast and blue. Before me lay a dusty road leading up a wooded hill, at the top of which was a large marble building that tourists had to pass through to reach the city. We had been here earlier for passport control. Still mindful of the many fish scattered around, I retraced our steps. So far so good. I remembered some wooden planks we had ascended. As I traversed these, a bellboy ran out and began to shake them vigorously, whilst I struggled to retain my balance. It was supposed to make things exciting for tourists, but now it was more of an annoyance. I just wanted to find my VR set and join up with Mr Robot.

I reached the top floor of this building and emerged into the street, but the place remained like a labyrinth. I cursed myself for not having paid attention when we first arrived. Alleyways twisted off into Escherean convolutions, passing through bazaars selling bric-a-brac, opium dens, cafes, and the like. I walked in hopeless circles, trying to find identifying landmarks but failing to commit the geography to memory. I find it very hard to get lost in real life. Eventually I woke up, annoyed that I had been unable to find the chapel. There is always that slight delay upon waking, where half of your brain is still in the dream, trying to tie up unfinished business. This time is was particularly irksome. Somewhere in Rome, an Italian teenager is having the time of his life playing with my VR set. The psychogeography and surreal landscape of the flooded city was inspiring enough that I will eventually work it into a novel.