Traffic on the way to San Diego begins to clot up--now there's a surprise!--so I exit the 5 (why the 5, from LAX? I guess it's plausible) trying to get to a less congested highway--possibly the 73 toll road--and find myself driving on a parallel surface street and abruptly realize that there are two things wrong with this picture:
1) all the traffic is driving on the left; I have just exited from the 5 and have driven up the offramp out of the lowered roadway on the left side. (The fact that I don't think there's much lowered roadway on the actual stretch of I-5 is a minor anomaly compared to the rest of the weirdness that I just let it pass.)
2) the neighborhood I am driving through is all two to three story wood frame houses with little yards surrounded by chain-link fences. It looks like that piece of the Garden State Parkway around South Orange, NJ, except, of course, everyone is driving on the left, as they do in the UK. There is obviously no place in Orange County that is like this; I have driven down this piece of freeway any number of times and can tell you this, but I know in the way you know in dreams, that I am somewhere between LA and Camp Pendleton.
(Writing this I have difficulty believing my brain has been so twisted as to link The Oranges in New Jersey with Orange County, California, but my unconscious mind has been known to do some strange things.)
Exactly where in San Diego I have parked my car is obscure, but somehow I know where I'm going.
I wake up from this dream very confused, and never do end up picking up my car, or meeting redhound's flight.
Sorry, redhound. :)