It is the Olympic Games, and have just rowed to victory, to win a gold medal in the Olympic Stadium. I am presented with several medals, so I distribute them liberally amongst friends and family. I leave the stadium and appear to be in deepest Newlands. I meet a Russian weightlifter friend, and we go for a run. It soon becomes apparent that we are running along the marathon circuit, which winds through the residential streets of the south-side. Eventually, we reach an open, grassy square, where a large family is having a picnic. They immediately recognise the weightlifter, but do not know who I am. I go over to introduce myself, and first encounter their dog. In an uncharacteristic move of animal-friendliness, I pat the dog on the head. It lunges toward me, but, instead of savagely attacking me, the white-haired canine allows me to lead it in a waltz.
I am on holiday on the Greek island of Cephallonia. [The setting of Captain Corelli's Mandolin - worth a read.] On one morning, I decide to take the coastal train along to the nearby city. On embarking the train, I take off my sandals, and leave them at the door. I sit barefoot for some time, watching the coastal scenery of cliffs and arches zoom past. Eventually, the train plunges into a tunnel, and the view is gone. We are nearing the town, and I think about putting my sandals back on, worrying that I will not have time to affix the velcro straps before the train leaves again. I alight in an underground station, and see a barrage of ticket machines across the exit. I somehow negotiate them, and emerge into the town, which is revealed to be a large city with many tall buildings. I walk toward a secluded, western corner of the city, where four such skyscrapers stand at each corner of a block. I hurtle toward a gap in one of the buildings, apparently now in some sort of light plane. Dammed by the buildings is an urban lake, and my plane plunges into it. My last glimpse is of derelict, modern buildings.