Lost and found

On finding my way in new cities and coming back home.

One of my secret special talents is getting lost. I’m fantastic at it! I’d be the world’s worst Amazing Race contestant.

Before smartphones and GPS, I’d study maps and printed directions trying to memorize them, to no avail. Even now that I carry a live pocket map on my person at all times, my little blue dot still sometimes goes the wrong direction.

One of the joys and challenges of visiting a new city is figuring out how to get places. When you’re someone who gets lost as often as I do, it’s a pleasant surprise when this actually goes smoothly. On a recent work trip to Seattle, I didn’t get lost once. I managed to get on the right buses going in the right directions and got myself to the right places.

My Seattle ORCA transit card, which maybe I’ll save as a souvenir to celebrate not getting lost while there.

I still felt a low-grade stress the entire time. I always second-guess my navigational choices because from past experience, about 50% of the time, they’re wrong. I was indeed supposed to take the 545 bus, right? Checks blue dot on phone to verify it’s inching towards my destination. Yes, that’s right. Phew. I continue to check my phone every 45 seconds to ensure I don’t miss my stop.

Upon arriving in Chicago, it was so comforting to know exactly where I was going. Exit towards baggage claim, take stairs down to the Blue Line to the city. I’ve done it countless times. On the train platform, several people were grouped around the Chicago Transit Authority map. I felt for them. I’ve been there so many times myself in a strange city trying to figure out a transit system I’m not familiar with.

Not today though. I walked straight onto the train, and I know roughly about how much time it will take to get to my stop. I know what my stop looks like and the stops before it. It’s all familiar. No second-guessing or smart phone checking.

I felt relaxed and at ease. Knowing where you are going is one of the best parts of coming home.