Finding yourself lost

When disorientation tries to derail you

Who needs a compass when you’ve got a harbour nearby? My first time in Herceg Novi, when I asked for directions from the town to the beach, I was told: just go downhill, you can’t miss it. That’s my kind of town.

My poor sense of direction is probably a recurring theme in these posts. I blame my innaccurate orientation on the fact that I grew up by the ocean. I know folks who can locate themselves spatially using the position of the sun, but who can trust that thing? Sure, it’s the centre of our solar system, but from my perspective it’s a shifty character. If you’re trying to find your way around my little town, Trinity Bay is a far more reliable point of reference.

I suppose spending your formative years in a space where movement is bound on one side by a great body of water can give you a false sense of direction security. If you learned to navigate by the simple principle of not getting your feet wet, you may think wayfinding is second nature. That is, until you wake up one day, you’re an adult now, living in some landlocked place, thinking you know where you’re headed but finding yourself lost.

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