Screw GPS: Why we all need to embrace the old school road map

When my 7-year-old daughter, Milla received a birthday invitation for a party located at her friend’s house on a farming property about half an hour away I thought, great!

Great because it’s an easy drive with no traffic, I can pop some non-Encanto soundtrack tunes on (well, maybe just one listen to We Don’t Talk About Bruno) after I drop her off and it would also include a quick visit to my favourite walking track nearby where I can get my endorphin fix while Milla gets her sugar high.

But thanks to a non-reliable GPS Sat-Nav which apparently wasn’t a fan of the surrounding bushland or the fact that we were in the middle of nowhere, my well-hatched plan well, it didn’t hatch.

It all started to unravel about 15 minutes into our 30-minute journey when we turned off the highway onto the smaller and potholed infused (yet still bitumen) road. I noticed the GPS beginning to have a mini-meltdown and after one last direction, a turn left (now onto a narrow gravel road) it just gave up entirely.

After pulling over to the side, which on this road involved slotting in between two gum trees, I pulled out my phone and tried to call the party girl’s mum for some assistance. Without luck, I let out a few choice words, offered a fake sense of optimism with a half-hearted smile to Milla in the backseat and began to look around the car for something, anything that could save me.

Then I saw it, a faded street and maps directory from two decades ago that my mum had ‘gifted’ me in a recent clear-out. “Just in case,” she had told me at the time.

And this was just in case. Because yes, the city street directory may not be up to date, but the farming areas and roads were exactly the same. So, like some sort of D grade explorer, I studied the map, working out where I currently was and where exactly the party house I needed to get to was located.

As I considered the route, from the back seat I began to hear the impatient complaining of Milla now concerned (and rightly so) that we would be late. But after some comforting words, I convinced her that I now knew where I was going and set off in the right direction.

After about fifteen minutes down roads that got bumpier and bumpier and narrower and narrower, I knew that this was definitely not the right direction.

As I pulled over and sat at the side of another country road attempting to decipher the map, I realised that I had no clue where I was, or what I was doing and that attempting to read a map, a person who has never had any sense of direction, well it was pretty pointless.

Now Milla’s concern for being late to the party turned into concern that we would die out here and to be honest I was also a tad worried about this too. But then I was just frustrated.

I was frustrated at...

After a few deep breaths (in the starfish method as instructed by Milla) I eventually worked out the correct route and arrived at the birthday party.

Yes, it may have been an hour late, yes, I may have had to stay because now there was no point in leaving (plus, I was too afraid I’d get lost again) but we made it! And with that, I made a vow to learn how to read a map asap. Properly. Just in case.

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