TECHNOLOGY is sometimes wasted on people.

 

Last Sunday I was on my way to meet up with a crowd for an arranged forest walk some distance away.

My friend Susan had agreed to take her car.

"I'll drive," she'd offered before adding: "After all, you always get lost."

And I couldn't disagree because in the past, I've left Airdrie to drive to Cumbernauld and ended up in Stepps.

I've left Cumbernauld to go back to Airdrie and, due to one seemingly simple diversion, ended up in Twechar.

And those are only a couple of examples of my complete ineptitude at getting from A to B.

So, all things considered, who was I to disagree with Susan's snide remark and her kind offer to drive.

"And anyway," I thought to myself, "she has Sat Nav. So we're sorted."

Aware we were heading to a remote location I cleverly wrote down the destination postcode and, on clicking in my seatbelt, I piped up: "Here you go."

"What's that then?" Susan asked reaching over and snatching the piece of paper from my hand.

"It's the postcode of where we're going for you to put on your Sat Nav," I offered. "So we don't get lost!"

Seemingly reluctant, Susan tapped in the postcode before our journey began.

To be honest, I was so relieved my part in reaching our destination was no longer my responsibility, that I was now looking forward to our drive in the country.

However, no sooner had we left my house when the female Sat Nav voice kicked in and commanded: "In 200 yards, at the next junction, turn right."

Nearing the junction Susan seemed to slow down to a snail's pace but I didn't say a word. After all, I was just happy not to be in charge.

Then, after a few miles another helpful Sat Nav instruction: "In 400 yards take the next junction on the right and carry along for a further 100 yards ..."

For no apparent reason Susan turned left and I decided it was best to keep my mouth shut.

After yet another three-point turn we were back on track when the voice advised: "Keep to the left. After 200 yards take the next turning on the left and carry on for 300 yards."

Keeping my cool I couldn't help but notice that Susan tended to speed up until the second the Sat Nav voice kicked in and then she would slam on the brakes and slow down to a sluggish crawl.

Despite clear and concise Sat Nav instructions, three times within 45 minutes Susan still managed to take the wrong turning until eventually I had to say something.

"Susan, sorry, but this should be pretty straight forward. That's three times now you've turned the wrong way."

Susan glowered at me as she slowed down again, and for a second I thought she was going to throw me out of the car.

"Aye well, Sat Nav is a wonderful invention if you know your left from your right ... but I don't."

"Really?"

I was flabbergasted.

"Yep, I don't know which is which and always get them mixed up."

I couldn't believe my ears.

Just at that, our friendly voice instructed: "In 400 yards ..."

"You see," squawked Susan. "That's another bloody thing. Who knows how far 400 yards is? Or 300 yards or 200 yards?"

Susan's voice was now very high pitched as she screeched: "Cause I've no bloody clue how far that is."

I didn't know if I should laugh or cry.

"Well switch the blinkin thing off," I shouted back.

And there we were, at a junction, disoriented in the middle of countryside with no clue whether we should go left or right.

"Well," I said eventually breaking the long silence with a sarcastic jibe, "we can't ask the audience. So we can either phone a friend, or we can take a 50/50."

Having called my friends for help a dozen times in the past, that was an option I didn't want to take.

"Forget it," My lost travelling companion told me when she checked her phone. "We can't get a signal".

So there we were, out of options and with no choice but to go for the 50/50.

And guess what ...?