(If only they made sat-navs for the countryside)
You don’t have to wrestle with Tom-Toms
As I’ve struggled with maps through the years
Folding the bastards back into shape
As the wind whips them up round your ears
And then when you’ve got them all folded
Your hands all frozen with cold
You try to track down your location
But you find that you’re just on the fold
You’re either just here by the forest
Or maybe just there by the dam
Or just on the edge of this mayonnaise splodge
Or this patch of old strawberry jam
And then when you think that you know where you are
(A remarkably rare situation)
You suddenly realise the map’s upside down
And you’re filled with an air of frustration
What you thought was a track is a river
That railway’s the stream that we crossed
That windmill’s a turbine, that castle’s a pub
I’ll confess it – we’re totally lost!
What I need when I walk is a Tom-Tom
With a voice that is soothing and calm
To guarantee geographic safety
To prevent me committing self-harm!
“Take a left turn down by the river
“Cross the bridge, cross the field, climb the stile
“There’s a place you can stop for a picnic
“In a little over a mile”
With a satellite tracking my movements
I’ll know just where I am to the metre
I never will be bewildered again
My ramblings will be that much sweeter
I’ll never need scramble down loose banks of scree
Or climb up near-vertical faces
I’ll never discover the shady wee nooks
Or those off-the-beaten-track places
But where is the sense of adventure in that?
Is a Tom-Tom too cosy perhaps?
It’s so much more fun when you haven’t a clue
I’ll maybe just stick with my maps.