Curry dreams and other after effects. The strangest epic nightmare. And now the bodily consequences of a very hot Naga spiced mutton dish. By eck, they definitely like their curried delicacies very hot. The last time I had a curry quite so extreme was from Ali Raj in the 90s. The dream was a saga of getting home, which I finally managed as I woke sweating and desperate to hit the porcelain. Marcel Proust was the only way out of the dream. Bus, café, runaway bus, crashing through a barrier of a building(Victorian Infirmary) into an Egyptian/Sumerian ruin next to a river. Sideways sliding towards the Nile/Euphrates/Ganges/Indes, where it came to rest at the beginning of human recorded history. I was unscaithed but was lost in time having to return to the current over so many hurdles. In the end I'd been interviewed by the "east European" police as a witness to the original runaway bus, put back on the correct path (thinking there were simply too many routes to follow to ev...