Grab a coffee and a comfy seat, this is a long tale.
Picture the scene, a usual evening of a few glasses of FizzyBoobly then onto a 3 course meal although not sure Mrs Fogg enjoyed the French delicacy of snails in BBQ sauce followed by baby calves. So food done it was back to the cocktail lounge for more fizzy stuff, a scrabble whitewash (yep I kicked botty again) and then a round of Backgammon where Mrs Fogg’s losing streak just got worse.
A nice romantic wander along the beach at midnight trying to find a stone for Mrs Fogg to take back with her, with a bottle of Baileys in hand (don’t worry we will get to the point in a moment, just setting the scene). And then an oh so labored stagger back to the room through the multitude of toads.
Ah to sleep, perchance to dream and within milliseconds of her head hitting the pillow, she was unconscious and snoring (who says over 40s can’t handle their booze). I read until about 1am then gently drifted off to enjoy a nice respite from the mozzies biting.
SLAM went the outside door at 4.30am with Mrs Fogg stood there looking at me in her rather nice birthday suit, shouting at me “where were you, I went to the toilet and you weren’t there”, obviously dazed and confused I am looking at Mrs Fogg stood in the outside doorway and at the toilet door on the other side of the room, missing the ever so obvious “why would I need to be in to loo with you”. Still ranting at me, although a little less now, I am trying to wake up to understand what I was missing (alien encounters, WW3 the final countdown, etc). Mrs Fogg then started babbling about going to the toilet, in the restaurant some 400 meters away. Why when we had a perfectly adequate one next door, and and I suppose an even better one would be why would you go all that way STARK NAKED?
Mrs Fogg calmly climbed back into bed and promptly proceeded to snore, leaving me looking in bewilderment at the passing events, oh well I’d better go to sleep as well.
So this am, Mrs Fogg gently wakens as I’m looking at her and then I casually asked, did you go anywhere special during the night? Oh I wish I had my camera for the expression of dawning realisation slapped across someone’s face.
So Mrs Fogg, explain…..
Ahem, well….I had this weird dream that I needed the toilet and had to walk all the way down to the ones in the restaurant. In my dream I can remember looking down as I wandered through the hotel gardens and thinking “oh I seem to have forgotten my pants” Thinking nothing of this (it was after all just a dream) I ambled slowly to the restaurant, into the cocktail lounge and through to the toilet. I even remember washing and drying my hands! I wandered back into the cocktail lounge and wondered where Mr Fogg was and may (bit unclear here) have actually wandered through into the main restaurant and to the bar close to the main beach to find him.
I don’t remember seeing anyone, I do remember feeling disappointed that the bar was closed, imagine if it had been open and a naked sleepwalker asked for two glasses of champagne!!
Still, one of the security guards who patrols the grounds waved a friendly hello this morning……
Thats my first ever sleepwalk! I thought the dream felt very real at the time. Good job I did not decide to go for a swim too. I would have walked past the pool twice on my trip.
