Chapter 1: The Disappearance of Asking for Directions

When was the last time someone approached you for directions? Can you recall? Was it last week, last month, or even years ago? It used to happen frequently to me; I have that face that suggests I know where I’m headed. My keen sense of direction is a skill I inherited from my late father during our countless explorations through the fog and mist of the English Lake District.

If someone inquires about a location, I can usually guide them accurately. Even when I’m new to an area, I often have a knack for locating things. This ability stems from my childhood experiences with my father, where we diligently studied maps before embarking on our adventures, always seeking the best routes while enjoying the scenic views — and, of course, finding a good pub along the way.

I previously expressed my affection for maps in an article titled: What Happened to All The Maps? In that piece, I lamented how the rise of modern GPS technology has diminished our ability to read maps and understand our geographical context.

I still cherish using maps. They provide a comprehensive view of my surroundings, something that GPS cannot offer. A GPS simply presents a green blob on a screen, cluttered with roadways. While it can efficiently guide you from point A to point B, do you truly comprehend your journey? Are you aware of the area or region you’re traversing, or are you merely focused on reaching your destination as swiftly as possible?

Most likely, it’s the latter. The pace of modern life pushes us to prioritize speed. Why take a moment to appreciate our surroundings when we can arrive in an instant? Just keep your eyes glued to the screen, hit GO, and you’ll be there before you know it!

And you may never get lost.

Yet, getting lost used to evoke a sense of adventure for my father and me. Despite our maps and compass, there were times, especially when the weather turned, that we found ourselves completely disoriented. In those moments, we relied on our instincts to navigate.

Or, when all else failed, we would ask someone for help.

It’s not common to encounter people on a mountain path, but it does happen. I recall one instance on Bowfell, a peak in the Lake District. The clouds descended, and it began to snow, leaving us unsure of our way. Just then, a group of locals appeared and guided us safely down the mountain.

Every weekend with my father was filled with adventure. Even a simple outing could lead to unexpected discoveries. However, if you’re mindlessly following a GPS device, you miss out on so much. You’ll hardly see anything of interest, and you’ll never even have the chance to get lost.

On a symbolic level, getting lost reflects our life experiences. We often hear phrases like, "I was lost but now I’ve found my way!" This concept is fundamental to self-improvement and therapy. A whole industry is built around the idea of losing one’s way and seeking guidance, whether in physical spaces or within our minds.

Sometimes, as my father and I discovered, even a map can be ineffective if you’re unaware of your current location. Fortunately, other people are not as useless as a map in such situations.

— "Where’s the river?" — "It’s over there!"

Human beings are a treasure trove of information and generally eager to assist. This inclination to help has been part of our nature for millennia. We enjoy connecting with others, sharing our knowledge, and guiding someone back on the right path. There’s a unique joy in witnessing someone’s gratitude as they set off to their destination. It’s heartwarming to see others happy, and despite the challenges humanity faces, we do care for one another.

Let’s not forget that.

However, returning to my initial question, I can’t recall the last time I was asked for directions. Nowadays, we reach for our phones at the first hint of uncertainty about our route.

I might get lost — "Google, help me!"

In seconds, we find our way home. But what happens when the lights go out, or the GPS fails, or the internet disconnects?

Then what? Will we still be able to navigate home, or will we be left fumbling in the dark, staring at a malfunctioning phone?

Then what will we do? “Excuse me, could you tell me where I live…?”

Chapter 2: What Happened to All The Maps?

We’ve all become adept at navigating, but do we truly know our intended destinations?