This dream was far less technicolour than the previous one.
I am in a small village in rural Buckinghamshire, one that I do not know well. I am on my way back from the vaccination centre because I have been turned away because I did not have any proof of identity on me. I am going back home to get some proof. I encounter a man I haven’t met. He is looking intensely at me as if he recognises me. He explains this, that he is sure that he knows me from somewhere. I tell him that I am relatively new to the village having just moved there. I say that I used to be a lecturer in Chemistry in London. He suggests that we go for a pint in the local pub which we do. I then tell him that I have to leave. We walk past his cottage and he invites me in. He shows me a cushion with some words in Welsh embroidered on it. I ask him if he is Welsh too. No, he is Australian. He suggests that we go for another pint later in the week.
I arrive home but cannot find my passport. I can find my Titre de Séjour card and resolve that this will do. I make my way back to the vaccine centre. People are queued up without masks. I go back outside and put my mask on. I then re-join the queue. It is very busy and the woman on reception is taking names and checking ID. I am ushered to a holding area. In the holding area are various people from my past, T, J, N, A etc. I am surprised to see them. I did not know that they had moved to the country. The notion is that they moved out of the city to get away from the pandemic. One of them had problems with his husband. They are all looking older than when I knew them.
A nurse comes over and says that I need to go to see the Doctor to check if It is OK for me to have the vaccine. Initially I am to be given the BioNTech one, not AZ like the others. She will escort me across town for the medical. When we get outside it starts to rain. I pull on my old brown jumper and say that I will enjoy the fresh rain on my face. We get to the surgery across town. At first, I am the only one there. Then it starts to fill up until it too is near swamped. The staff there are unsure what to do. They decide to prioritise the appointments according to risk level. I say that I have 3 or 4 points on the Charlson Comorbidity Index, that I am technically obese and that I have an allergy. The woman ushers me to one side and begins checking the others.