Have you any dreams you'd like to sell

Last time Dodge and I were getting ready to leave and embark on a 12-month trip round the world, I had two dreams.

In the first I was shaving my head - the dream started at the point that I had just shaved half of it bald. Watching my reflection in the mirror, I ran the clippers around my skull, hair dropping to the floor, and suddenly, in horror, I realised what I was doing, thinking I had made an irrecoverable mistake.

The next dream started in a similar fashion with me looking in the mirror, but this time I was halfway through shaving my face. One cheek, one side of my upper lip and half my chin were shaved clean - then with a jolt I become conscious of what I was doing and thought: "Oh my God, when you shave, hair grows back black and coarse and by shaving half my face I have essentially committed myself to a future of being a half-bearded lady!". I even pondered the merit of shaving the rest of it so that it would at least grow back evenly across my whole face.

I guess it doesn't take a genius to figure out the subtext of either of those.

No doubt my subconscious is turning things over at this point - all the things that we are leaving, and all the things we may or may not encounter on the other side - and no doubt these subliminal ponderings are permeating my dreams. And it seems I am not the only one. A couple of months ago Matt and I had two corresponding dreams, a night apart.

My dream
We were living somewhere remote on the coast in New Zealand. Everything was green and dark like in the film 'The Piano'. The only way to travel was by surfboard. Matt and I were trying to get home and were on our boards out the back of a stormy sea where a huge set was rolling in. The tide was in and the sea was surging against the rocky shore. Matt told me to wait for it but I was already leaning forward to drop into the wave and it was too late. I've heard that pipeline surfers have to be able to hold their breath for long periods while they're tossed beneath the waves and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to hold my breath for long enough if we lost our footing. It was a rough ride but we made it in to shore.

Matt’s dream
Matt was in Cape Town sitting at the top of a high-rise building, with his legs dangling over the edge - uncharacteristically completely without fear of the height. He could see right across to Robben Island and up behind to Table Mountain and it was beautiful. He stood up and jumped off the building, his parachute opened and he glided down to the beach, enjoying the amazing view as he descended. At the bottom he encountered two large crocodiles which he kept away by whipping their noses with his parachute. Then one of the crocodiles ate his parachute - but they were no longer menacing or dangerous.