Last weekend it was forecast to be a sunny, if a little cold, so I decided to mosey on down to South Wales for some gentle therapeutic walking.
I seem to recall hearing a diesel vehicle, possibly a van approaching at great speed from behind.
These dreams always seem to feature me in exposed locations and they invariably end with maniacal laughter. I know they are just dreams but they are so authentic they could easily be real.
In one particular dream I'm making my way along narrow ledges with nothing below me and only my crutches for support. I wake up in a cold sweat, but then a thought strikes me. Perhaps crutches are the ideal caving aid for those cavers who do not like traverses.
And then my dreams get even more bizarre. Falling is a recurring theme. Falling, falling, falling ... forever falling.
And then suddenly I'm in the company of Brendan and Mark. I've no idea where they came from. They wish me well and they say they hope I'll be caving again in the not too distant future. I thank them and they drive off.
A lost weekend!