Two blokes seriously in need of direction

ONE thing about being useless, you have to be consistent.

My mate Mick and I always have trouble with directions but this last week we bettered even our efforts.

Both of us found we were on leave last week so we decided to take in a trip to the Gold Coast to stay a few days with an old mate who lives on Paradise Island in the middle of Surfers Paradise.

Now, last time we took in a visit to his place, Mick and I got hopelessly lost so I got out the Google Maps to at least chart a route to the Gold Coast where upon we’d then reassess the situation, which meant we’d call our mate to guide us in.

However, we didn’t even get out of Toowoomba before we were lost.

After he picked me up, Mick drove east on Bridge St as we chatted about plans for the coming week.

Suddenly we were in scrub country.

“Are we on the Second Range Crossing before it’s been completed?” I asked.

“I think we’ve missed a turn-off somewhere,” Mick replied upon realising we were actually on Prince Henry Drive.

Backtracking, we eventually got to the Range Highway and were on our way east (I think), albeit it later than we had planned.

I got out the Google Maps on my phone and noted that we could simply stay on the main highway all the way to Surfers Paradise.

Easier said than done.

Our mate on the coast, realising how hopeless the two of us are with directions, our mate called to say he’d meet us on the highway and lead us to Paradise Island.

We couldn’t even find him.

For 20 minutes I described the landscape outside so he could plot where we were.

“How the hell did you get there?” was to be a regular comment from him over the phone.

By the time he caught up with us we had somehow found our way to his home.

But that was only the start. The rain didn’t let up for the four days we were on the coast so the weather “forced” us indoors and we found ourselves visiting more than a few inns.

We usually ended up at our favourite haunt, O’Malleys, which is on the beach so you’d think it would be fairly easy to find.

Not for these two directional idiots.

Walking for ages along the beach front, we ended up at some surf club and dropped in for a beer and directions.

“Oh, O’Malleys is about four blocks back,” we were told, leaving us to realise we’d walk straight past it. But, of course, it didn’t stop there. After a late night of coffee and scones at O’Malleys, it was time to walk home to Paradise Island which is only a few blocks away.

Well, a few blocks away for those who know what they are doing.

We had been walking for hours — along the highway I might add which is nowhere near where we should have been — when I asked Mick if he really knew where we were going.

“Of course I do,” he replied, “it’s just up here.”

Eventually, we came across some streets that looked familiar.

“I reckon it’s the next street over, Mick,” I remarked.

“Yeah, but there’s a short-cut up here,” Mick said — tempting fate yet again.

Naturally, we walked straight past the lane-way short cut and had to walk around the next suburb before back-tracking to our mate’s place.

“Where the hell have you blokes been,” our mate said when we arrived in the early hours of the morning. “Well .... ”

“No, I don’t want to hear about it,” he said.

“You got lost didn’t you?” Well, my doctor has been at me to up my exercising and this last week I got plenty of it, thanks to the art of getting lost.

Of course, we had yet to drive back to Toowoomba.

There’s not enough room in this column to explain the calamity of that trip.

However, we’re back!