I am really bad at finding my way from one place to another. I know not to travel without a map. I can follow a map if necessary, but Map Quest was designed for people like me. It serves me well most of the time.
Go 1 ? miles to Georgia Highway 341. Turn right. Travel 7.4 miles to traffic light.
Turn right on US #1. When Georgia Highway 15 veers off to the left, follow it to the large brick structure on the right. Turn right into parking lot. You are now at Appling County High School. Open car door and go inside.
However, Map Quest has a disclaimer that I’d never noticed before our recent trip to Atlanta. We sat in front of a large school after following Map Quest street by street, exit by exit. The map in Larry’s hand said we were now in the parking lot of our motel where we had reserved a room. Obviously not. As I pondered the map for myself, I saw the disclaimer at the bottom: Map Quest is not responsible if party becomes lost.
We resorted to the old-fashioned way of stopping at the ever-open convenience store and asking directions. When we finally arrived (4 blocks over from the school), I told the desk clerk our story as we checked in.
“Never usa de Map Quest,” he told me in heavily accented English. “Usa de Goodle map. It work more better.”
I’ll remember his advice next time I am forced to go to Atlanta. Maybe Goodle will work for me, too.
Some people are born with heart conditions; some, with hearing loss. I was born with no sense of direction, and even worse than that, if someone tells me verbally how to get somewhere, I can’t remember unless I write it down. So I stand in the 711 scribbling furiously as the foreigner in front of me rushes on. It takes me five minutes to realize he doesn’t’ know how to get there either.
I’ve learned to compensate over the years. I attach myself firmly to someone with a sense of direction. For example, I found that males tend to have a better sense of direction than females, as a rule. I know that statement sounds sexist, but when we traveled in France, boys always navigated the Paris metro for the group. It seems to be a natural male talent. (Naturally the one time I lost students in Paris, they were female and didn’t speak much French. But that’s another story. They were found and brought home, so all ended well.)
These days when we travel, Larry and I make a good team. I drive; he navigates. If Map Quest is magnanimous and provides us with accurate maps, we usually get where we’re going rather efficiently.
“When you get to the next exit,” Larry instructs, “you’ll need to be in the middle lane because we have to turn left after we exit.”
That’s the kind of specific information I need. Which lane and when! However, if the navigator (Larry) is talking on the phone and not paying attention and IF the driver (me) continues to drive in some aimless rambling pattern while he talks, the result is not pretty. When his conversation ends, we are lost.
“Mae, how do you ever get around if I’m not there,” he asks me, once we’re safely back on track about thirty minutes later. “I’m not teasing. How do you find your way around a strange place?”
The simple answer is that I make careful preparations. I print out maps and study them. I take maps with me and pull over often to look at them. Sometimes I take another navigator with me, and of course I do seem to have an innate sense of direction to my favorite stores. Without a map, I can lead you directly to Kohl’s in Macon, Belk’s in Atlanta, and Dillard’s in Savannah. Where else do I need to go?
God blessed me with many talents. Among others, I’m a fantastic cook, a decent writer, and a good teacher, but I can get lost in Baxley. If you see me roaming around in circles, please point me in the right direction.