In the dream I went to a Boulangerie and refused to pay for a baguette because it was too expensive. ‘One Euro Thirty Fiveiesme!’ I cried. ‘Vous kidding moi.’ I flounced out of the shop and back to my old home down the hill.
When I recounted the dream to my wife she pointed out that the Boulangerie I had visited, although undeniably French was in the exact same location as that of Barry the Baker, the baker that I used to go to in Taunton.
‘Sacre blue, mon old mate. Je suis dreaming in Pidgin Franglais about Pidgin Somerset sur La Mer.