THE WRONG TURNING

Dominion, Volume 32, Issue 160, 1 April 1939, Page 8 (Supplement)

THE WRONG TURNING

Experiences Of A Newcomer To Wellington DIFFICULTIES OF FINDING THE WAY

(By

O.J.)

There is nothing quite as exasperating as to find oneself in a strange city earnestly desiring to arrive at a cer tain place at a given time and yet to be completely baffled when it comes to finding the way. Despite earnest cautious and directions and though carrying. in "long distances cases,” a drawing of the suburban route, the wrong turning still wields the stronger pull. These maps, elaborately prepared with arrows pointing in the right direction and with copious marginal references, look the essence of simplicity till put to the test, when they become a meaningless group of lines. They have never pointed the way to me, as stranded in my "no-man’s lands,” the situation has become indelibly imprinted on a mind black with despair and frustration. Such occasions are stored away in my "zero hour” memories. The mental strain plus the anger of the moment accompanying the discovery that you are miles from anywhere of' importance assumes gigantic proportions and any telling of an unfortunate story as to how the way was lost is greeted with gales of laughter by derisive friends. Having lived in Wellington for years themselves, "familiarity has bred contempt’’ of the highways and byways'waiting to snare innocent victims. The calculating look in their eye tells you they are measuring up the amount of intelligence they think you haven’t got and that of course adds fuel to your lire of wrath.

Finding it necessary to visit a hill suburb one day, I set off to find the cable car. Not daring to go by tram in case its funny little “hide-out” be missed, the journey was made on foot till shop by shop was eliminated and its entrance stood revealed. Once a passenger I was not prepared for what followed.

After a comparatively short distance had been cover;d, a halt was made and a wait of several minutes ensued. In company with another passenger, 1 waited patiently for the journey to continue, thinking that we would proceed when another tram had passed. Before we could realize what it was all about, down lite hill we went again to the bottom. 1 thought there had b.en some mistake: so did my companion. We knocked on the motorman’s window and a-'ked what was the matter, lie told us that this was the bottom, we mid been to the top and ‘'for what were we still sitting there?” My disgust was unbounded. Having been used to the lengthy journey undertaken by cable trams in the southern city, the bri.f introduction received ai the bauds of its northern counterpar: naturally upset my calculations. With as much patience as could be si'i iimuned up under the strain, 1 was a,::ln taken to the top. Careful directions from the now sympathetic motorman set me on the next stage correctly. After endeavouring to walk down tin almost impossibly steep path. I was forced to go back to the top of the hill and come down via a flight of steps.

There must htrvt- been hundreds of step- and in the growing dusk it seemed as though I should never reach my goal. At length the house number was dis certied screened by masses of prolilic shrubs, but not before 1 had patrolled the road twice and peer.d at every number suspiciously. When I knocked at tile door the occupants of this cunningly concealed domicile asked blandly if I had had any difficulty in finding the place. 1 was too overcome to answer. The Wrong Place. Then there was the time it took two hours to find a place ordinarily a matter of 10 minutes’ tram ride from the centre of the city. 1 set off that time confident in the knowledge that I knew this time where I was really going. As usual, it turned out io be the wrong place and I had to go in exactly Hie opposite direction and about three times as far before I found it—but only at Hie end of two hours’ fruitless search. The train conductor said he thought I would' come to the place if I went up.through church grounds near the tram stop. The church grounds proved to be enclosed on all four sides with great security, so I tried again and asked some women who looked as if they had lived in the district for years, but they could tell me nothing. As a last recourse. I tried a policeman, who majestically set me on the right path—for a while. Events followed which left me limp witli rage and exasperation. Time was creeping on and I could see myself getting t.o this concert when it was over. Unfortunately, the police officer failed ro warn me about another very similar group of buildings almost next to those 1 wanted, except I hat the wrong ones, as usual, were first on the route, so that I innocently took the wrong turning once more. I joyfully welcomed the sight of the big entrance gates and hurried up the long drive thinking, ’‘better late than never.” Welcoming lights shone from many windows, but I was dismayed to find it wasn't a girls’ school, but one for boys. Tlie girls’ establishment was down Hie drive again, along the road, up another long drive and I was there, according to the young hopeful who directed me and who ' could see was appreciating the liner points of the joke.

I eventually did arrive nearer the end than the beginning of the entertainment. As a result of the stress and strain of the moment I lost my voice fo r a week, but I did not explain how it happened. N'o one would have believed me. anyway. Otte very dusty and windy afternoon I set off to discover the whereabouts of a suburban kindergarten. I tramped up and down ami along streets and asked almost everyone if they could heli) me. As time went on ami 1 was not getting any further, my di termination to find it increased to a dogged and unswerving vow not to be defeated. in a battle more than half lost al ready. At lite end of two hours and a half I found the kindergarten. It was almost next to a place I had visited not a week since, not that I discovered Ibis till it was too kite.

There have been bright spots, too, in my local wanderings however. On a thundery afternoon, with rain pelting down. 1 was descending to the ground floor in a city lift when a man. apparently overcome with pity for my coat less plight, gallantly offered me the us" of his giganticly-proportioned umbrella, which I found later would, have kept at least three people dry with ease. Despite my protests he.insisted I lake t, and as I slunk guiltily away down h.- street I observed him out of the ■orncr of my eye making his way aci'os,he flooded streets with hunched slionl ders already Wet with rath. “Just drop it in to the office, lie said blithely, forgetting that 1 did not

know who he was. His gallantry tor hade me to mention the fact llial I did not have the honour of knowing him. 1 was grateful for the largi cl eumlerence of ils shell ring cioth with which 1 was canopied ami it wa> .villi secret satisfaction that 1 watched pas.-ers-by take a wide berth to escape Hie businesslike spikes of its sturdy frame.

suburban tram-stop I lost my bearings, so asked my way of a busin.ss man who told me to “eome along with him.'' t.'nforlunately, the poor fellow must have had a particularly wearying day at Um office, for three lengthy blocks down the road he stopped, concentrated for a while and then said he was sorry, but the street 1 wanted was in the opposite direction from tin terminus and about as far from it as we now. stood He explained al length that he waihinking of a friend with the -nine name as that of the street I sougui. Apparently he was taking me Io visit this utih.ippily-nam d citizen who-e astonishm.nl. however, might have been well worth recording.