Julie McLaughlin juggles her time between student life at Caledonian University and attempts to teach her dog to dance.

Anyone who has ever been in a car with me will know that I get distracted easily. Whether it is a cute puppy on the pavement or simply belting out Britney Spears as I swish my hair about, pretending to be in a music video, my attention tends to wander.

So on a rainy night when I suggested to a friend that we go on a road trip, I had not taken into consideration that a road trip would in fact mean me driving … for a long time … with no clue where I was going.

Setting out on an adventure to an unknown destination I had nothing but my wits and my somewhat lacking knowledge of roads and all round driving. The thing is that these road trips occur fairly often, however, my internal sat nav tends to steer the car towards McDonalds; a safety zone, a sense of home for the wandering soul.

However, this time we found ourselves in Falkirk, ya ken? This got the old adventurer in me excited, as I knew the Kelpies would be 'near' and added a sense of purpose to the journey.

Target: acquired. Estimated time of arrival: 15minutes. Danger Level: (in my car) high.

Bound to a journey of treacherous trial, obstacles would try their best to stop us. But would they succeed? Only time would tell as we endeavoured down a path of mystery, with its outcome unknown. However determination seemed to be on our side. Or so I thought.

I would like to emphasise the fact that google maps is not my friend and I would seriously question if it was in fact anyone's friend.

Driving along the motorway at 70mph, we saw the kelpies quickly approaching. But what google maps fail to realise is that driving past them does not constitute 'reaching your destination.'

This meant that I would have to resort to road signs … a scary thought.

As I came to a roundabout I could either go back the way I came, go to Edinburgh or down an unknown route. Whilst something inside me screamed to go back the way I came, when it comes down to common sense … I haven't got any. Therefore, of course, I went down the unknown road, leading me to a sign that said 'WEAK BRIDGE.'

Once again faced with the decision of turning back or in fact going over said weak bridge, commonsense did not prevail. I travelled along, slow and steady (because everyone knows that wins the race) as something inside me knew it was not a good idea. Why was it not a good idea? Not for the reason you would think.

No. It turns out that I in fact was travelling down a footpath for quite a while before both me and my passenger looked out the windows to see we were not on a bridge but rather had fields on either side of us. This meant that I would have to slowly reverse back, trying my best to keep the car straight so I did not end up with live stock as passengers.

When I did eventually made it back to what others would call a road (I apparently will drive anywhere) I realised perhaps it was time to call it a night. But god loves a trier, doesn't he?