On paper the Sat Nav should be my best friend. And it was at first.
It got me from A-B with minimal fuss and far less U-turns than if I had been alone.
But recently it would seem our dear little Sat Nav has developed a sense of adventure. Like when we were weaving our way through the county lanes of Kent.
All was going well until we found our selves facing a field and it said “now navigate off road.”
I drive a Voltswagon polo. Not a 4X4.
Then this week I was asked to go to Graffham to write a food review.
So joined by my sister and the Sat Nav we headed off into the hills.
Other than saying “the destination will be on your right,” when it was on our left, Sat Nav was perfectly behaved.
Little did we know what she had in store for our return journey.
The first signs it was going to be an interesting ride is when the road turned to rubble. Night flanked us on either side so the pot holes and puddles, illuminated by the beam of my headlights, were all we could see.
But it didn’t take us long to realise we were on a tractor track, in the middle of a field.
I held on and hoped as the car tilted left and right.
The drizzle had turned to a downpour and when a rabbit ran in front of us my sister let out a scream.
It felt like we were in a really bad horror film. Or like Harry Hill and the “You’ve Been Framed” camera crew were about to jump out from behind the trees.
After what seemed like forever we could just make out something in front of us.
Our hopes raised – until we realised it was a locked gate.
Luckily the heavy chain and padlock were only wrapped around, and we managed to drag it open.
The sense of relief left us laughing like madwomen.
And only got worse when it dawned on us we had somehow broken into Seaford College.
A friendly passerby pointed us in the right direction and when we saw real road again my sister exclaimed “this is the happiest moment of my life.”