Isn’t this what we always
do in a strange city? Before
we leave the hotel, I study
an A to Z, check google map,
try to remember all the street
names, every twist and turn.
You type the destination
in a search engine, press ‘go’,
and follow it like a religion.
We stay on the pavement, side-
tracked by this or that shop, lost
in signs we can’t decipher.
The city opens its heart to us,
traffic booming, smell pungent.
Suddenly, a crossroad. I turn
left. You turn right, as the GPS
instructs. A couple of minutes
later, you run after me, breathless,
arm on my shoulder, phone
in front of my eyes: ‘look,’ you say.
I ignore you, carry on walking:
‘Don’t be so pedantic.’ I say.
You put the phone down, a long sigh.
After a few blocks, I stop, a confused
look: ‘I think we may have got lost.’