Saturday, 14 December 2013

Nutty Navigators

Modern technology is fascinating. In the last fifteen years the way we communicate has changed in an astounding way. We can get in touch with people anywhere  in the world. Skype, mobile phones, all the information we can think of, is at our fingertips.
One thing, does however, leave me with mixed feelings. The navigator. For years men have said that women are useless at reading maps. People from England would arrive at our house, deeply flustered, saying they nearly risked divorce trying to find there way.
The navigator should have changed all that.
On our first journey with a navigator, from the shop to our house, about one kilometre, a route we know very well, the female voice kept on telling us to turn round and go back.
We were very confused, we knew which way to go. Eventually, we realised it had been programmed to go from our house to the shop.
Friends have told me they are delighted with their navigators. They have driven round Paris as though they were born there. They have given the navigator a name, it has become one of the family.
This has not been the case with us. We have accumulated fines as it has taken us down traffic free zones and the wrong way down one -way streets.
In France, where they do "sensual" better than anyone, I have felt a bit jealous as the automatic voices
on motorways and cashpoints, seem to be flirting with my husband.
Not so, luckily, with our navigator. He finds her accent irritating and wants to change it. He doesn't like being told what to do, and she sounds bossy.
Last night our navigator directed us into the middle of nowhere, in thick fog. rescue.
Perhaps she was offended. I think she 's on her way out.

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