There are a few things that I am good at. I am good at writing. I can carry a tune and, provided it’s not an advanced class, I am good at ballet. I can ride horses and have only had one speeding ticket. I can also whip up a 30-minute meal in just under an hour.

However, there is one thing that I am not so great at despite the many modern advantages of the 21st century and that is, I am shit at navigating. Considering I was the one who wound up on the east coast of Singapore when I needed to be central, this should not come as a surprise. A few things lead to this problem: I can be impulsive and impatient which leads to frustration and ultimately getting lost. I also assume to know where I am and make poor choices such as when I thought we could get off the bus one stop early which resulted in being over an hour late for our reservation and blistered feet.

It is no wonder then, that almost since the day we landed in London, I’ve been lost numerous times. We’ve walked an extra mile only to end up back where we started (and which was where we wanted to be all along). I’ve taken us to the deepest depths of the Underground only to have to turn around and go back because I should have turned right when I turned left. I’ve admired the quaint town along the Thames that later turned out to be the town where we were supposed to disembark. I have exited the wrong set of doors with the confidence of a natural born Londoner and marched across a major road and into a neighborhood, admitted I was wrong, turned around, went back the way we came, turned left when I should have turned right, stopped, admitted I was wrong again, turned around, went back to the original set of doors, and started all over again.

So, as you can see, above ground, underground, on the Tube, out of the Tube, following the blue dot, or not, it doesn’t matter, I’ve gotten us lost. My children have asked me, before we set off for the day, “Are you going to get us lost again?” as if it’s a favorite past time of mine and to which I reply, “We’re never truly lost until we end up in a different country. *pause for effect* And search parties are formed.” Or, if I want to really drive home my point, and in the immortal words of “Chow” from the Hangover II, “But did you die?”