Before setting off for a visit to a friend on the other side of Swansea I stopped to google the map. I knew roughly where she lived; I just wanted to confirm which of a number of turnings I should take.
'Why not use the sat nav?' Husband asked.
New Mini (still not named as we can't agree: I like Stanley) has built-in sat nav so Husband came and sat in the car with me as we tried to work out how to work it. The first option was to use voice control. I say first option but it tuned to that automatically and we couldn't figure out how to change it.
'Okay,' I said, 'lets' have a go. I want to go to SA6 1XY.'
'Did you mean Sudbury?'
'No, of course not. I meant SA6 1XY.'
'Did you mean Southend?'
'No, you stupid thing!'
Husband took over. 'Let me try.' He cleared his throat and enunciated, 'SA6 1XY.'
'Did you mean Almondsbury?'
'Oh for goodness sake.'
I'll draw a blind over the rest of this experience. Suffice it to say that I could have got to my friend's house in the time it took us to instruct the sat nav.
And it wouldn't have been so bad if it then hadn't tried to send me first into a car park and then back on myself. After shouting at the sat nav I proceeded to ignore it, which led to a sulk on sat nav's part. I assume she was sulking; she didn't speak to me again until my journey was almost over - at which point she did serve the purpose I'd wanted her to. More or less.
I mean, 'After 200 yards turn right.'
Seriously, who has any idea how far 200 yards is?
P.S. Husband's advice that 200 yards is approximately the length of 2 rugby pitches doesn't help.