Most of what I remember took place at one spot in an oldstyle city, at an intersection of several streets that widened out a bit into a slight square and sloped up toward the northwest. On the east side was a building of some sort that had an elevator and stairs that were sort of half-open to the outside (visually the dream was vague on them and they were clarified more by the experience of moving up and down on the elevator and talking to a guy about the stairs). They led to a few shops — maybe a bookshop and a tchotchk shop and a couple other establishments — both above and below street level, although all daylit, it seems — the site was rather engaging in section, as one would term it at school IRL. There was one guy I kept encountering who was pumped about a promotion on hockey sticks being sold at the tchotchk shop. On the street, along the square, were crevices to the side where spaces below were visible and lots of (heavy-duty) license plates in various stages of manufacture were hung or placed; apparently this was a historic and still extant license-plate-manufacturing node, and in addition there were other street-equipment items being produced and displayed (maybe like having to do with fire hydrants).
Also there were times, maybe connected to the scene above, when I was thinking back along a long route along an eastern coast that was a winding and rolling path on open land, with seemingly a lot of ski-trail-curve posts (what are those actually called, you know, the ones that bend) everywhere along in clumps. That’s all that I remember from that part.