Memories of Paris: the opposite compass
I mastered the Paris métro and RER quickly when I first moved there. A small victory, except things usually went pear shaped back on the street when time came to orientate myself again. I cannot count the number of times I went right while I needed to go left (or left when I needed to go right) – and always after pondering the street map too! (Very handily placed right by the street exits).
By yourself, mildly embarrassing – but it gets better. After Christian and I met and he moved from Melbourne to Paris, he made it clear he trusted me in the métro but back on the street he would do the orientating. Often by going the opposite direction I suggested.
How vexing is that? Two years head start living there and my Australian husband knows his way around Paris better than me within weeks. And dubs me his reliable opposite compass. Well it’s very vexing (trust me).
Image is from here.
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