Dreams are free of time. They can remember backwards and forwards.
I had to return to my room for five o'clock, but before then I had half an hour in which to take photographs of the outside of the hotel- which was a very striking building. Only the hotel didn't want to be photographed- at least not at close quarters- because it was completely enveloped in a thick brown fog which only began to clear as I moved away.
This was an element in the dream I had this morning- immediately before waking up.
Later- after showering and dressing- and saying good morning to the cats and the birds- I picked up the daily paper. Usually (being the Telegraph) it carries a front page photo of Boris Johnson looking masterful but today it has chosen to go with something different.
Two little girls are eating ice creams on the beach at Scarborough. Behind them on the cliff- a quarter of a mile away- is the fortress-like Grand Hotel- which is a very striking building.