Paper Maps vs GPS

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A Nostalgic Journey with a Modern Twist

I’ve just returned from a bit of an adventure in a new neighbourhood I don’t know very well. You know the kind of outing—stop for petrol, a quick dash to the supermarket, and a lot of driving down unfamiliar streets. By the time I was on my way back, it struck me how lucky we are to have GPS. My mind wandered back to the late ’60s and ’70s when I was single and constantly on the go. Back then, there were no helpful voices telling you to “Turn left in 200 metres.” We had paper maps. Big, fold-out, impossible-to-manage paper maps!

I was pretty proud of my map-folding skills—most of the time. But when you’re in a rush, it’s a whole different story. Folding one of those maps felt like wrestling a fitted sheet that had just come out of the dryer. You try your best, but it always ends up in a messy bundle. My glove box quickly became a graveyard for paper maps, each one crumpled and slightly worse for wear. The car started looking like a mini archive of my travels, with maps poking out from under seats and crammed into every available space.

Fast forward to today, and I’m completely in awe of GPS. It’s nothing short of magic! This morning, it took me down tiny streets, round unexpected corners, and safely back home without a single wrong turn. Without it, I would’ve been hopelessly lost. What a game-changer!

But just when I thought my little adventure was over, I hit an unexpected twist—a breathalyser checkpoint at 11 a.m.! Surprised, I said to the officer, “Bit early, isn’t it?” She smiled and said, “Not really. You’d be amazed how many people we catch still over the limit from the night before.” Whoa. It’s a bit of a wake-up call, isn’t it? Apparently, there are plenty of people who party hard and then try to drive home in the morning, still feeling the effects.

That aside, I just can’t get over how much easier life is with GPS. No more pulling over to squint at a map under a streetlight, no more trying to fold it back neatly, and no more stuffing it into the glove box with a resigned sigh. GPS, you’re a lifesaver.