Getting lost is often touted as a wonderful way to see a city or explore a new place. It’s supposed to be how REAL travelers travel. Authentic travelers were born with a compass instead of a heart. They have an unflappable attitude and wear sensible shoes, the proceeds from which support a tiny school of delightful children in Myanmar.
And I could never be one of them.
Getting lost can be fun for those who are confident in their abilities to make it back to START. For the rest of us though, getting lost can be an exercise in keeping the turtleneck sweater from closing in around our throats and trying to breathe.
Of course, it didn’t help (or did it?) that I worked for a children’s summer camp and dated the program director (I’m not bragging) for three summers. “Grizzly Adams” and the director were part of Colorado’s Search and Rescue team and constantly carried their 2-way radios with them. They listened to the “Texan or Californian hunter who got lost in the mountains” report on a regular basis.
So, the fear of getting lost in the woods was a reality because I heard about those who had to be helicoptered or carried out, and how AVOIDABLE their mistakes were, and I didn’t want to be the next victim broadcasted over the radio for smarter people to enjoy.
I don’t think I discovered just how bad my sense of direction was until I started to drive across the U.S of A. If my choices were left or right, I’d chose the opposite direction of where I needed to go. I used to tell people that I was Lewis or Clark in a past life, and for this life, I had used up all of my sense of direction.
My ex found it entertaining that I had to rotate a map in order to get oriented, or if we went upstairs I would have no idea what was below me. He used to ask me which way to go and then head in the other direction (what a butthead). It was amusing for him because he was the kind of person who could remember how to get somewhere after having been there once.
And so I leaned on him for these kinds of things. But after we broke up, I realized the danger of depending on someone else.
On my first day of arriving at Cuenca, Ecuador, I managed to get very lost. It had already been a disaster of a day, from my couch surfing host failing to meet me at the airport, to searching for a place to stay, to changing hotels when there was no hot water, to the rising panic of trying to figure where to go next with all my luggage. I had just moved here, after all.
Thankfully, I was rescued by a relative of a guesthouse that was full. She took me across the street where I would stay for one night until a room came available the next day.
After a hot shower, I hit the streets with my appetite, a map, and my Pimsleur’s Spanish. Next, I managed to find a solid meal and my future employer. Although, even that took a couple of tries as they had recently changed buildings. Even so, I was excited to be in South America and headed out to explore.
Downtown Cuenca is probably easy to navigate for those who have a solid sense of direction. It’s a grid system with street names clearly marked on buildings. But for someone like me, it was a nightmare where everything looked the same. And soon I realized I couldn’t find my way back to my guesthouse. Naturally, it started to rain.
I wandered in what was probably circles for a long time in the cold. When the sun began to set, I started to worry. Where was the brave, independent expat now? Questions like, “I can’t be lost forever, can I?” entered my unhappy brain. I tried not to think about the shopkeepers who saw the girl in the pink jacket go by dozens of times. I tried to protect my soggy map and dignity. I tried not to cry.
By the hand of Zeus, I was spit out of hell onto the street where I knew my guesthouse was. By then it was dark, and I held it together long enough to get my key from the front desk, drag my drowned ass up those stairs, peel off wet jeans, shoes, and step into a steamy shower. Then–I cried.
Sitting on my bed, I did a guided meditation which made me cry even harder, but it was one of the few familiar habits I had from my former life, so it made me feel better. I told myself that I had to learn directions because I didn’t want to endure another licking from north, south, east and west.
The good news is I worked on directions like I would in building any skill. So by the time I left Cuenca, I had a decent grasp of the city. I made it a point to always be aware of how to get back home. I never really relaxed in cabs, but paid attention to where I was going and tried to soak in sights and landmarks, a habit that I still do to this day.
When I went to Austria, I was ready for the next step. This happened when my family and I were sightseeing in Vienna, and we got separated by crazy circumstances. I learned to ask the locals a lot of questions and take it in stride when we got on the wrong bus. I had to take care of my mom, my sister-in-law (who, at that time hadn’t traveled outside of the US much) and one of my nephews, so being a leader, actually, helped me to feel confident.
Later, my brother (who trained with the Army special forces) poured over the map with me and told me to rotate the map according to where I was. Ha!
So, getting lost, yeah, I don’t take it lightly. Folks with an excellent sense of direction, I hope they realize what an exceptional gift they have. Nowadays, I’m the one helping out with directions, and I’m proud whenever I’m told, “You give really good directions.” Cause, man, three dimensional space is confusing, yo. Of course, my husband has a worse sense of direction than I ever had, so I’m in charge of where we need to go and how we need to get back. Thank you very much.
“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be.” – Douglas Adams
I felt the pain of this, Lani. I've got lost in every continent I've lived in. It can be exhilarating or revelatory, like in the Douglas Adams quote. But usually it's just anxiety inducing, isn't it?
Whenever I ask for directions (which happens a lot, albeit lately, the questions are more and more often directed toward a screen instead of a person) the answers I am most afraid of getting back involve words like "east/west/north/south" ... lol