Some sort of anti-war protest is scheduled to happen. It's marching from somewhere North-East of Glasgow city centre towards Glasgow Green. Interested in taking part in a non-committal sort of way, I begin to make my way up through increasingly fragmented and run-down cityscape. It becomes less pleasant as the incidence of broken glass increases - I am barefoot.
Eventually I bump into my mother; she is on her way up to the march. I change my mind when she explains that it seems to be entirely a vehicle for George Galloway, and I worry that she is being recruited into something that looks like having a Galloway ego-trip as its main purpose. Eventually (now travelling by bike, having had one helpfully rolled out to me by an unseen assistant) I encounter the procession - it's much smaller than I'd expected, a straggling band with Galloway at its head.
I am invited to a formal lunch, and decide this would be a better option. It seems to be hosted by Strathclyde University (most of this dream takes place in the rough geographical area occupied by their campus in real life), and to demonstrate some scientific point the food has all been dyed - one colour per plate. The dishes (new potatoes, and some tuna steak or white fish) at my end of the table are blue - further down the table, green, red and yellow. Sitting beside me is the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Gordon Brown, and I humorously remark to my fellow VIP guest that sitting him at the blue food is something of a political faux-pas on the part of the hosts.