Untitled Dream 15
I was in an Italian town with extremely narrow winding streets and to leave our accommodation you had to squeeze through what were effectively two twisting pipes that backed on to an old couples garden that also backed onto a road that wound around a cliff. Everyone else managed without any real issues but I’d knock things down from hooks in the tubes when I went through.
One reason why we were going was it was my birthday and all my family was celebrating by eating a meal in colour-mismatched UPVC windows and door pub surrounded by privet hedges.
The place was apparently impossible to burn down and should be used as a template for future houses. The owners of the pipe house had no incentive to change the building. At the pub, everyone was drinking sour cloudy lemonade out of dimpled pint glasses.