I’m not generally one to get lost. I can navigate myself around quite well.
Give me street names and landmarks and if I’m familiar with the area I can deliver you to the door, if I’m so inclined.
So this one time, I found out about a bookstore. I guess you’d call it a ‘mom and pop store’ – oh, okay, so the term relates to a small business. Good to know. It’s the kind of place that’s cozy and piled high with books. Books everywhere, unlike the other more commercial stores that also provide stationery, DVD’s, magazines, low technology and so on. Just books.
Anyway, I decided on one of my uni days I’d trot along. This was in the time when I had three or four hours between lectures, you see, so I figured I could do with some fresh air rather than holing up in the library. I wasn’t particularly familiar with the area – knew it vaguely, in relation to other landmarks. I knew to go through the park, but from there, wasn’t sure.
So I wandered along through the park, paused to consider an art gallery, and carried on.
And the street wasn’t there. I doubled back and retraced my steps, mindful of looking like I didn’t know where I was, and cursed the lack of street signage. From there, I spied another street. It was a skinny little street, heavy on the cafes and restaurants, tucked into the area. I still have the impression that it was a one-lane street with parking, but I could be wrong. Triumphant, I made my way to the store and got sucked in,
never to be seen again delighting in all the books.
Overall the lost experience was pleasant enough, if a little confusing. I suppose it could’ve turned stressful, being that I was in the CBD and not very familiar with the area, but I managed to get there, bought a book, and all was right.