My dear long-time friend, Jean, refers to me as “the lost soul.”

Not because of my sins, but because of my hopeless sense of direction. I have caused her much amusement over the years by driving around with a Melways for company, and because for many years as a judge at equestrian events I would have to find my way to venues in faraway towns.

Her favorite tales about me were when I got to a huge country town, totally lost and finding a taxi stand complete with taxi, paying him to drive to the showground so I could follow him, and the other, when I spotted a snazzy looking horse float, and assumed it was heading to where I was – tailgating it to the venue.

“What would you have done,” she said, “if it had turned into its own property?”  My answer was I would have waved and driven right out again.

Modern times have changed things, and now, by merely putting the address needed into my mobile phone, a confident little voice from somewhere up in the sky gives me step by step guidance until she says the blessed words “your destination is on your right.” Hallelujah!

Even so it’s still possible to get hopelessly lost. I did the other day.

I had to make a trip into town, and took a road I had taken at least three times a week in the past, often late at night, so with total confidence used it as a shortcut instead of staying on the Hume.

The problem is, the continuing expanse of Melbourne meant that instead of the quiet country road of the past… a developer had created a housing estate.

In the far distance I could see the road I needed to take, but all I can say is whoever designed the estate had done so while drunk, or on other substances, because there was not one straight road in the place.

There were roundabouts and cul de sacs and courts all curving, I even found a dead end street complete with rubbish and two abandoned mattresses, and I had to do a 47 point turn to get back.

I became hopelessly lost and pulled to the side of the road asking my faithful voice from the sky to save me.

She seemed to think or a few moments, (don’t blame her) before telling me firmly to do a U turn and get back to the highway. She guided me through the twists and turns and I finally made it.

So, dear readers, never leave home without her. I may still have been driving in circles hopelessly lost. If I could send her flowers as a thankyou I would.