Road sign dreaming

I woke up in the night and wrote down part of a dream, so I would remember it in the morning. A car, or some kind of vehicle drove repeatedly up a road bounded by a grassy slope. I had secretly placed a stepladder on the roof of the car and sat across the top of it, changing the big blue and white road signs as we passed them. I seemed about thirty years old and a woman who I never saw clearly hung off the ladder helping me.

As we passed, I altered one sign so that it said:

Now approaching
The bluebells
In Trinidad

Turn left
Turn left

This seemed a fairly normal kind of activity, as we passed other signs that expressed emotions rather than giving any useful directions.

As I woke up the ladder had toppled from the roof, I had leaped off, with some sort of tool in one hand, while holding the woman, and we had just landed safely on the grassy verge.

I lay in bed thinking about how Stormzy had guested edited the Observer magazine last weekend, and Jay Rayner replaced his usual restaurant review with a description of his visit to the Bluejay Cafe in South Norwood, where Stormzy treated him to oxtail soup, curry goat and jerk chicken. I remembered having jerk chicken made by West Indian grandmas when I lived in Brixton, and loving it.

Before I went back to sleep I began to suspect that the dream and my random memories had some backstage connection.